Patient #3562:

Name:

First: Catherine (Kiki)

Middle: Fiona

Last: Hannigan

Residency: 6729 Taber St. Apt. #28B
Los Angeles, CA

Eye Color: Hazel

Hair Color: Red

Ethnicity: White (of no Hispanic background)

Yet to meet with said patient. By mother’s description is extremely angry at unknown cause. Said to be perhaps at grandfather’s passing. To use extreme caution when talking with said patient. Can become extremely violent at any mention of parental divorce or grandfather’s cancer. First session: What she dreams of…




Session 1
Begin: 12:35 pm

“I had a dream last night. (Pause 30 seconds)
I really didn’t, but it sounds good, doesn’t it? So, you want to know what I dream about. That’s such a stupid thing to ask. Dreams don’t tell you anything about a person. Everyone has such crazy dreams. How is it possible to figure out what they mean? If it was my job to figure out peoples dreams, I would just find them all mentally insane and call it a night. (Pause 10 seconds)
Is that cold? Well, it’s my opinion, isn’t it? So you can’t do a damn thing about it. Why did I turn hostile? I don’t think I’m being hostile, I think that I’m being assertive. Why am I being so difficult? Am I being difficult? What if it’s you who’s being difficult? Then where are we going with this conversation? You’re the shrink, so why don’t you tell me. You don’t want to tell me, do you? You want me to figure it out on my own to gain experience in my life and learn how to problem solve. This is so stupid! I hate this! I’m not going to these sessions willingly, you know. (Pause 18 seconds)
My mother makes me go to these stupid things. She thinks that it will do me good. No, I don’t care that she’s paying for this. I’m leaving! I’m done!”
End Session: 12:45 pm


Patient #3562: Catherine Fiona Hannigan

Subject does not enjoy sessions, hates talking about herself, and has a habit of ranting about other things to keep the subject off of home life, family, herself, etc. Next Session: Free talk…




Session 2
Begin: 3:45 pm

“Well, here we are again. Yes, I’ve calmed down. I was shoved full with sedatives the second I walked out of the “exam room” by my mother. Cold medicine that knocks you out is considered a sedative, right? Well, that’s what my mother does when she doesn’t want to deal with my bad mood. Well, if I get hooked on cold medicine, I blame her. She does it to my brother too. (Pause 15 seconds)
I remember this one time, when we were in Miami, visiting my oma and opa on my dad’s side, my brother made this really rude comment about our opa’s health. He walked up to Opa and said “Opa, Kiki says that Miami is where old people migrate to die. Like pigeons. Are you going to die soon? If you are, can I have your ham radio?” I died laughing, and Opa didn’t look especially surprised, but Father and Mother were furious. Mother dragged me to the side and started yelling at me, saying that I shouldn’t have said such a thing to my impressionable younger brother. My father started hitting my brother, all the while apologizing to his father. Then my father switched my brother for me at the hotel… (Pause 25 seconds)
Anyway, needless to say, my mother knocked my brother out with cold medicine and had him lie on the bed, pretending that he was taking a voluntary nap. (Pause 5 seconds)
I don’t like talking about this stuff. Can I just sit here? Thanks.”
End Session: 4:42 pm


Patient #3562: Catherine Fiona Hannigan

Seems to be in a better mood when not asked questions, but allowed to talk freely. Maybe because of cold medicine fix. Next Session: More free talk…




Session 3
Begin 10:08 am

(Silence)
End Session: 11:01 am


Patient #3562: Catherine Fiona Hannigan

Free talk seems to have worn in effectiveness. Will begin simple questions that won’t turn threatening without provocation.


Session 4
Begin 1:22 pm

“Hi. Hmm, well, not much has happened since I last sat in this hell hole. Except…well, never mind. No, I don’t want to talk about it, especially not with you. Shut-up. (Pause 2 minutes)
I know what you’re thinking, don’t think I don’t. You’re going to ask me some bullshit question like:
“What are you so angry at?”
or
“Why do you dress like that? Don’t you want to seem friendly to people?”
Well, I can tell you right now, don’t even think about it. I dress like this because I want to. I listen to the music that I listen to because I want to, not because I’m angry or because I’m retaliating against my parents. My mother seems to think that because I stamp around the house in black that I’m somehow not going to make a good impression on the world. Tch. All that shit that she spouted when I was younger about how I should care what other people think. It only really applied when I was in elementary school, still wearing cute little baby doll dresses like Lolita. It only applied when my whole school found out that I sucked my thumb until I was in the 3rd grade. Philosophies like the ones your parents tell you right before you leave for school, on the days when you know it’s going to be hell, they don’t apply to the real world. When you’re older, and trying to get a good job, people don’t care about a shining personality. The sad truth in the world is that no one really gives a damn about anyone. They just care about a first impression. If some one doesn’t give a good first impression, you can kiss anything that you wanted to do good-bye. Walk into a job interview without an ironed shirt and tie on, and you’ve pretty much lost any chance at that company.
Not to say that everyone has to become a yuppie, but I bet you know exactly what I mean. I mean, look at you. A business suit? Please, you work exclusively with kids; they don’t care if you’re wearing Prada…they just want a reliable person to talk to. And all the people in this office, they work for you…you hired them, and you pay them. If they don’t like the way that you dress, they can quit. I mean, put any kind of dress code you want on them, but for god’s sake, to keep theirs and yours sanity, come to work in a t-shirt and jeans, even if it’s just once a month. And allow yourself to sleep in and just roll out of bed to come to work. Kids will enjoy seeing an adult who is actually on their level, who doesn’t always look like she’s walked out of a magazine, hair never out of place and always the latest business suit. You’ll be surprised, I promise you. Oh, we’re done? Well, just so you’re aware, I’m not coming into this office again until you get a freaking fainting couch for me to lie on, like in the old movies, and wear a t-shirt the next time. Seriously, I feel like I can’t swear in here, it’s like being in my dad’s apartment.”
End Session: 2:20 pm