By this shirt here: When All Else Fails Turn Up The Guitar And Play With Your Cat Shirt
But the world was collapsing, and I, useless and confined to a new stay-at-home reality, was watching it from my window. And so, as if roused from a bad dream, I awoke to the When All Else Fails Turn Up The Guitar And Play With Your Cat Shirt of my privilege: I had someone else to talk to, and someone to safely welcome into my home. Suddenly my therapist was there on the couch, sitting beside me; she was there when my electrician showed up unannounced; there when my boyfriend accidentally entered the room (a mistake he knows never to repeat). She was becoming someone like a friend, an intimate confidante, a bystander to my life as it was unfolding in real time. And whether it was my newfound commitment, or the forced intimacy of telehealth, I was making breakthroughs. I even found myself looking forward to our sessions.
One subject parked firmly in opposition is Kelly McGee, a 29-year-old living in Los Angeles, who, after four years of regular sessions, has cut back to seeing her the When All Else Fails Turn Up The Guitar And Play With Your Cat Shirt on a bi-weekly basis: “It began to feel like a scheduling conflict instead of something that’s being worked into my week,” she said. “It’s harder to be vulnerable when there’s this performative aspect of being on camera.” Julia Crockett, a 34-year-old movement specialist in New York, has also reduced her number of sessions. She was blunt about her distaste, but wary of quitting altogether without an alternative: “I hate it,” she said of her Zoom therapy. “But also, the world may be ending? So, I’m like...I guess I should still go.”
