GIRL ON THE COUCH

Glasgow-based journalist Martin charms in her debut memoir of a year in psychotherapy; the book is an expansion of her Grazia magazine column, “Conversations With My Therapist.”

Though not lacking for sharp insight or an emotional arc, her retrospectively self-aware narration is funnier than it is heart-wrenching. As her 35th birthday loomed, Martin couldn’t stop crying. Her married boyfriend had found a younger woman, embarrassing work situations abounded and she was still living in a tiny rented flat. When Prozac, exercise and advice from friends didn’t bring her out of her funk, her sister and her best friend—both therapists—asserted that the “talking cure” was exactly what she needed to uncover the repressed adolescent emotions motivating her self-destructive behavior. She finally surrendered her skepticism and took out a loan for psychotherapy. Martin proves a fine guide to this oft-stereotyped Freudian world. “There was a couch—the famous couch!…A box of tissues lay strategically on the floor,” she writes. “They must be for the really damaged people, I thought, glad and relieved that I wasn’t one them.” Dr. J, the author’s therapist, says little more than “Hmmm” during the first few sessions, but eventually hits on her patient’s unbecoming emotions, such as jealousy of her baby nephew and fear of real intimacy. Dr. J also identifies formative experiences from Martin’s past: her sister having brain-tumor surgery, her father losing his job, etc. The author begins to see personality traits to which she was previously blind. Romantic tension gives the book more suspense than most memoirs, as Martin moves on from delusional mistakes with her adulterous ex to a comedy of errors with a handsome doctor. Her blunders with him eventually become exasperating, but her wit and vulnerability are so endearing that readers will root for her anyway.

Generous and gutsy. The author convincingly demonstrates how psychotherapy has made a huge difference in her life, while acknowledging that it may not be for everyone.