A Very Dangerous Conversation: The Patient's Internal Conflicts Elaborated Through the Use of Ethnic and Religious Differences between Analyst and Patient

I looked at my new patient, Mr F. He was a man of medium height, with dark hair and eyes that were a startling blue. “My brother killed himself,” he told me, sitting across from me in my office on a cold and dreary October afternoon. The words hung between us, heavy with what had not yet been felt or said by him. “With my gun. The gun he asked me to show him how to load and shoot with, a few days before he committed suicide. In the shower of the house we had been sharing here in town.” I felt goose bumps on my arms and wondered if the thermostat in my office was set too low. I thought: ‘Fuck! Do I really have to deal with this?’ and then, more soberly: ‘How will I ever help this man?’ I said: “I am so sorry. What a loss for you — and for your family.” Mr F looked away, as though my brief words were like harsh sunlight in his eyes. I was struck by his inability to accept my words in some useful way and by his difficulty in expressing his own feelings about his brother's terrible and tragic suicide. “I found him”, he went on, “in a pool of blood. I had to call the cops because I couldn't open the bathroom door and I was scared. And there he was, sprawled out. His brains splattered around.” I felt an urge to say: “How awful,” but waited. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “It was pretty awful,” he said. I noted the juxtaposition of the words ‘pretty’ and ‘awful’ and, in an attempt to contain my own chaotic feelings, decided I would ‘file it away’ for future investigation. His expression was frozen, the face of one who has been through an unimaginable experience and has learnt to talk about it without emotion.

“You speak so calmly”, I said, “and you look so composed. But you've been through a horrific experience.” He seemed taken aback: “It has been terrible. Horrific. That's true. But I can't feel much. I feel kind of numb. Not just about this, though. I've been this way pretty much most of my life. Sort of detached from things — from people, feelings.