Sep 26

Psychiatrist Jokes: Have You Heard These Before?

Whereas yesterday’s post featured a visual caricature of a psychiatrist (on The Big Bang Theory), today’s takes a look at psychiatrist jokes. Why are therapist jokes more often about psychiatrists than other kinds of mental health providers? Is it because there are more stereotypes about psychiatrists than psychologists, social workers, mental health counselors, psychiatric nurses, etc.?

Quick—what do you picture when you think about these possible openings to jokes: “A psychiatrist walks into a bar…” or “One psychiatrist says to another…”

Did you think male, older, bearded, white, rich, stuffy…? Any or all of the above? Any others?

So many stereotypes, so many stereotypical shrinks to knock down a notch or two or three.

Whatever the case, read the jokes below—all found on the Web—and, if it fits for you, feel free to substitute any other type of shrink your heart desires.


I. Two psychiatrists pass in the hall. The first says, “Hello.” 

The other thinks, “I wonder what he meant by that.”

II. Two psychiatrists meet on the street. One says to the other, “You know, I thought I’d been completely analyzed, but yesterday I experienced the most remarkable Freudian Slip.”
The friend nods and waits to hear more…
The first psychiatrist continues, “I was having dinner with my mother, and I meant to say, ‘Please pass the butter’, but instead I said, ‘You miserable bitch, you’ve ruined my life!!!'”

III. A patient is seeing his psychiatrist for the first time and is undergoing the Rorschach test. After each ink blot the patient exclaims that it is a couple copulating. The psychatrist stops the test and observes, “You appear to have a preoccupation with sex.” And the patient replies, “You’re the one showing the dirty pictures.”

IV. A group of psychiatrists were attending a convention. Four of them decided to leave and walked out together. One said to the other three, “People are always coming to us with their guilt and fears, but we have no one that we can go to when we have problems.” The others agreed.

Then one said, “Since we are all professionals, why don’t we take some time right now to hear each other out?” The other three agreed.

The first then confessed, “I have an uncontrollable desire to kill my patients.”

The second psychiatrist said, “I love expensive things and so I find ways to cheat my patients out of their money whenever I can so I can buy the things I want.”

The third followed with, “I’m involved with selling drugs and often get my patients to sell them for me.”

The fourth psychiatrist then confessed, “I know I’m not supposed to, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t keep a secret…”

V. I told my psychiatrist that everyone hates me. He said I was being ridiculous – everyone hasn’t met me yet. (attributed to comic Rodney Dangerfield)

VI. Patient: “Doctor, doctor, nobody understands me.”

Psychiatrist: “What do you mean by that?”

VII. What do Psychiatrists say to each other when they meet?”

“You’re fine, how am I? “

VIII. Patient: Doctor, I get the feeling that people don’t give a hoot about anything I say.

Psychiatrist: So?

Sep 28

Is Your Therapist For Real? Practicing Without Credentials

Is your therapist for real? As in practicing with appropriate licenses and/or credentials? I mean, there can actually be “therapists” out there who lack the necessary education and credentials and/or licensure to practice.

When I worked in various agencies before entering private practice, it was never required of me to prove to my clients that I was indeed a therapist for real—I worked there, so obviously I was. Or was I?

Yes. I was. Looking back, though, I wonder how many of my employers even actually verified all of my credentials.

When I began my own practice, every now and then a client did ask about my education or experience. Whereas I freely shared this info, for the longest time I didn’t think it was necessary to display my diploma and other certificates in my office. Wouldn’t that be kinda showy?

Actually, no. Simply put, clients have the right to know that you’re for real. So now, all the framed evidence of the “letters after my name” hangs in my waiting room. Ha, joke’s on you—they’re fake! Anyone with access to the internet can…


In the 1999 film Mumford a man relocates to a small community—named Mumford—where he pretends to be a psychologist named, oddly enough, Mumford. It seems that in his previous life, Mumford—the man, not the town—had learned something about relationships even in the midst of some serious drug problems:

For some reason, probably because I was too stoned to talk, everywhere I went people would talk to me. Tell me everything. Their problems, their inner most thoughts. Sometimes they needed advice, but most of the people just wanted someone to listen.

Rehab then taught the man not yet named Mumford even more about how help is given and how help is received.

When he moves on to become a fake shrink in Mumford the town and Mumford the movie, Mumford the man is remarkably successful—and greatly appreciated for his shrink-like capabilities. As you may have already guessed, no one has bothered to check out the credentials of this likable newcomer.

Eventually, though, in Mumford the movie and in Mumford the man and in Mumford the town, things do fall apart—as they should, given the deceptive circumstances.