The clock-watching therapist

large old-fashioned orange alarm clock being held with outstretched arms above the white person’s head

Photo courtesy of Malvestida

Being a psychotherapist is the best job in the world – in my humble opinion. But even the best jobs have their drawbacks, one of which is that it can often kill the enjoyment of drama (TV, films, plays, and so on), because of the way psychotherapy and psychotherapists are portrayed. The latest example of this for me is the new Nicola Walker crime series, Annika. Series one was originally screened on Alibi but now getting an airing on BBC One and BBC iPlayer (https://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episodes/p0fjh17b/annika). Annika is now on its second series, but I am a bit behind, having just finished series one. If you are yet to watch, I don’t want to give away any big plot spoilers, so I’ll be careful!

Annika’s teenage daughter, Morgan, is struggling with the fact her mother’s new job has led to a move to an area she doesn’t know. She opts to have psychotherapy to help her make this transition. In one scene, she is telling her mother, Annika, about the therapy and how she felt annoyed when she noticed the therapist looking at the clock. Mother and daughter seemed to agree that this was a ‘bad thing’ and that a new therapist needed to be found.

It’s the theme of clock-watching by therapists that I want to explore. This scene triggered a big tut and eye-roll moment for me as I squirmed with frustration on my sofa. I find it irresponsible that drama writers, keen to entertain, show counselling and psychotherapy in a cliched way because it is more entertaining. So, I want to offset any sense that we therapists clock-watch because we are just interested in when the session will end and offer an explanation as to why we glance at the clock from time to time.

Psychotherapy and counselling sessions are generally a specific length (although there are some exceptions, such as in Lacanian therapy). My sessions are 50 minutes long, which tends to be the norm for therapy with individuals. Keeping to the boundary of that time limit is important, partly for me (so I can manage my schedule and be available physically and emotionally for my next responsibility) but mainly for the client. Many people come to therapy because important people in their lives have not been able to respect or maintain healthy boundaries (an obvious example is sexual abuse but there are a myriad of other boundary violations that can have a cumulative and significant effect on us, especially in our early years). So it is vital that I demonstrate consistent and appropriate boundaries, including that I start and end sessions on time.  Which, of course, involves checking the time. Towards the end of a session, I tend to be explicit about this, saying something like, “I just want to check the time - we’ve got X minutes left.”

Person or colour holding an hourglass in their fingertips with black sand beginning to trickle from the top to the bottom

Photo courtesy of Denilo

Time management is also important during a session. I need to ensure my client is in a fit state to leave a session and return to their normal life, be that to travel safely from the venue of an in-person session or to get back to work or other commitments after they log off from a video/phone session. Therapy sometimes, perhaps more than sometimes, involves connecting to pain and suffering, and/or a sense of vulnerability. This can leave a person emotionally and physically wobbly which takes time to move out of. It’s incumbent on me to have a sense of the time available in a session, either to help my clients reconnect to their grounded, adult, functioning selves before they leave the session, or to check if there is enough time to give this important material the space it needs and deserves. In this latter case, I might say something like, “I can see we only have 12 minutes left of the session and that this area feels like something that needs more time than that. What would you like to do?”. They then may pause to reflect on how they want to use the remaining time optimally or carry on regardless. Either is fine - it’s their session.

Finally, I wanted to share how I might respond if I notice that my client has clocked my clock-watching, especially if I can see that it causes distress or, in the case of Annika’s daughter, frustration. I’d probably say something like, “I think you noticed me checking the time – I wonder how that felt for you?”. Opening up a conversation like this can give me a chance to explain some of what I’ve outlined above, but it also gives us an opportunity to explore how it feels to be my client. To take Annika’s daughter as an example, my sense is that she saw her therapist checking the time as an expression of boredom or frustration with her, perhaps of wanting to be free of her so she could get on with something ‘more interesting’ or ‘more important’. That would certainly fit with the way the mother/daughter relationship is portrayed in the series, especially as we know that Annika - a single parent - has struggled with the tension of wanting to be both a good mother and a good detective, a job that she loves but which can be demanding, unpredictable and pull her focus from other important responsibilities, such as being a parent.

So there you have it - the main reasons why you might spot your therapist glancing at their clock from time to time. We’re most likely not bored (far from it!) but are managing the time to offer the client the therapy they need.