Surgery, therapy, despair and Trump
Icannot shake the very dark feeling Donald Trump gives me because I survived a Trumpian experience — barely. I was a corporate vice president with a narcissistic, ego-maniacal, infantile, insecure, spewing, sputtering chief executive officer for a boss. I ended up seeking therapy to save myself from suicide.
I entered therapy in 2008. I had reached a state of suicidal depression related to my work and especially my relentlessly Trumpish boss. In fact, my “presenting symptom,” as defined by my therapist, was “The Boss.” Over several years, I had attempted to deal with the stresses of The Boss and the job medically. Antidepressants helped, but when my depression pushed through the medication at its highest dosage, my physician recommended therapy.
I scoffed at the idea. But a few months later, I realized I was eagerly looking forward to serious thyroid surgery as welcome relief. I also realized thinking of major surgery as relaxation was very unhealthy, and that I needed help no amount of antidepressants could give me. Still, my surgery brought such relief from The Boss that the cutting and recovery — even the loss of my thyroid — were a comfort and a pleasure. The feeling didn’t last.
After that, I went to therapy almost weekly for two years and clarified my view of The Boss and me. I survived. I also reached the conclusion that “presenting symptom” is perhaps the best description of The Boss and people like him.
I think of Donald Trump that way. And I think of a fellow employee who described my old company as “full of dedicated, smart, hardworking people — led by a sociopath.” I fear that is who we will have to be for the next four years — dedicated, smart, hardworking, perhaps suicidal and longing for surgical release from the blathering Trumpian darkness. I’ve lived it before.