Jenna’s eyes flash.“How should I know? I have a job to do,
a department to run. I’m involved in hundreds of conversations
every day. I can’t remember every one. I don’t have time to worry
about every little comment people make.”
I lean forward in my chair. “Jenna, would you be willing to
talk about what you’re feeling right now? My guess is you’re
thinking that therapy is a waste of time, and you’re wondering how
to convince your managing partner that you don’t need it. Maybe
you’ll tell him it’s keeping you from more important things.”
She hesitates a few seconds before answering. “So?”
“So,” I say, “I think it’s interesting that you’ve been in my
office ten minutes, and we’ve already managed to develop the
same kind of working relationship you have with people in your
office. Aren’t you even a little curious about how that could
happen?”
Usually, therapists don’t try to make their clients angry, but sometimes
it happens. With Jenna, I had intended a calm discussion of reinforcement
theory, and how fear causes avoidance. What she gave me—a recreation
of the very situation we were discussing—was far more useful. We were
able to touch on a few of the thoughts that were fueling her angry out-
bursts. We talked about how hard she worked, how important it was for
her to do a good job, and her feeling of constant time pressure. People
problems, to her, were a waste of time.
I suggested that high achievers often define things they aren’t good at
as unimportant so they don’t have to risk failure, and how their criticisms
of themselves are so strong that even a hint of disapproval from outside is
almost unbearable.
By the end of the session, we were back to what she said at the begin-
ning—that she needed help with job stress—but with one important differ-
ence: She could see that she was creating at least some of that stress herself.
“Brittany, you say you want your boss to get out of your face, am
I right?”
She nods.
I extend my middle finger. “Do you know what this gesture
means?”
The Psychology of Anger ❧ 247