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Your support makes all the difference.I just had to go for a psychiatric evaluation to see whether I was compos mentis enough to take part in a future television project that I’ve signed up for. To my great surprise, the head doctor pronounced me relatively sane, and fit to take part. This came as an even bigger shock to my family who had all assured me that I stood no chance of being green lit by any kosher quack.
It’s impossible not to feel both paranoid and defensive when being probed by a shrink. I parried every question with an “I know what you’re trying to get at here” attitude, and tried to answer with a question. Since this is the main technique that shrinks also employ – “I don’t know, what do you think?” is a favoured riposte – we spent a lot of time going around in circles.
I’d done one of these things before, when I was going to go into the Australian rainforest for I’m A Celebrity... Get Me Out Of Here! This was about five years ago, and I thought I’d done pretty well in the session. When we’d finished I jokingly asked whether “I’d passed?” The shrink said that she was happy for me to go into the jungle. There was a pause, then she added: “It might be good for you to see someone on a weekly basis when you get back.”
I nodded as though this was a joke, and exited her office rather deflated. I thought it best not to mention her remarks to my family. Not being medical professionals, they might have taken it the wrong way, and thought I was mad.
It must be tough being a shrink hired to assess possible candidates for TV reality shows. These shows pretty much rely upon having some celeb go on the show and behave irrationally in order to provide the baying pubic with the entertainment that they require. And yet, silly things like television regulations demand programme-makers take precautions to make sure that nobody who appears on these shows is mentally unbalanced.
“Boo, hiss” scream the viewing public – “we want to see celebs behaving badly, and breaking down so we feel better about our lives.” Fortunately for everyone, there is no profession better at maintaining a false front than television folk. Having watched more reality shows than I’d care to admit, it appears that a large percentage of contestants must have managed to pull the wool over the mental-health professional’s eyes. Thank God for that. Imagine watching reality television shows that contain a cast of entirely balanced, kind, relaxed celebrities? What a dull show that would be.
No, what everybody is after is a famous personality who is un-self-aware and potentially unstable. The participant needs to enter the show thinking he/she is one thing while everyone else immediately realises the truth. After that, it’s up to the various machinations and hardships of whatever the show happens to be to engineer the conflagration that the viewers crave.
Obviously, I’m not talking about me – it’s everybody else.
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