“Good morning, Doc.”
“Have a seat Mr. Peñaflor. I am Dr. Anton Abalos, but you can call me Ant or Doc Ant, whichever makes you more comfortable. Before anything else, may I have permission to record our consultation?”
“Will that be uploaded, Doc Ant?”
“I only keep a local copy.”
“It’s all right, I guess.”
“Good. How would you like me to call you?”
“Carl will do.”
“Sige, Carl. Normally, whenever we have the psychiatric interview we have a formal structure of asking you what you consulted for, any other illnesses you might have, the medical history of your immediate family, other personal factors that might contribute to your illness, how you grew up before diving deep into your problem. I prefer a more organic flow, as if you are telling me a story. It gives me more insights into how you think and what your general mood is. You get me?”
“Yes, Doc Ant.”
“I might interrupt you every now and then when something is unclear, or I might ask a question when you hit a bump in your story. But let’s start with things that we need to get out of the way. Do you have any medical conditions or illness right now or in the past that you consider significant?”
“I had asthma as a child.”
“Okay. Anything else?”
“I have primary hypogonadism.”
“How was that like growing up?”
“Life was not normal. When we started turning 12 and 13, all my classmates were going through puberty while I was the kid with a high-pitched voice and baby fat.”
“Did your parents have you checked for that?”
“Yes. The uro who saw me ordered a few tests and noted that my testicles were essentially not working. And then that was that.”
“But you look okay now?”
“I only got treated seven years ago, Doc.”
“You were…twenty-seven?”
“Yup.”
“Why did it take so long?”
“My father died when I was fifteen. We lost our health insurance. We had to depend on relatives before we found some financial security. It was only after I started working and got health care that I finally got treatment.”
“Hold on to that thought. Why did your father die?”
“Heart attack.”
“Okay. Let’s go back. Did your primary hypogonadism affect your social life?”
“As far as friends go, no.”
“What about how members of the same sex treated you?”
“I wouldn’t be mistaken for the neighborhood siga, but nobody paid me any mind. I was harmless. Besides, I stayed mostly indoors and kept to myself.”
“And the opposite sex?”
“I think that’s the reason why I never had a girlfriend even in high school and college.”
“We will go back to that. Have you previously consulted a psychiatrist?”
“This is my first time to do so.”
“What about diseases in your family. You said your father died of a heart attack. Any other relatives?”
“Yes. His father and his eldest brother.”
“It would be remiss of me to not advise you that you should also get checked for risk of developing ischemic heart disease.”
“I had my executive check-up last month.”
“Good. What about other health problems? Diabetes? Cancer? High blood pressure? Stroke?”
“None that I am aware of.”
“Anyone in your family with mental health problems? Do you smoke?”
“No and no.”
“How about alcoholic beverages? Don’t say only during special occasions.”
“I drink weekly. About two bottles of beer usually on Fridays and Saturdays. But I’ve been doing less and less of that recently.”
“Hmmmm. I have a feeling we will be going back to that. Have you ever tried illegal drugs?”
“Never.”
“Not even during college?”
“There was not much room to experiment and play around when you’re living on handouts from relatives, Doc Ant.”
“Makes sense. Moving on, how many siblings do you have?”
“One.”
“Older?”
“Younger.”
“By how many years?”
“Five.”
“Growing up did you know which one was the favorite?”
“If they did, Papa and Mama hid it very well.”
“Can you elaborate on that for me?”
“Papa and Mama grew up in households where their respective parents had favorites. And it manifested in horrible ways. Papa was sickly growing up and fell in with a barkada who smoked and did drugs. Meanwhile, Mama is barely on speaking terms with our Lola Nita. I’m not even sure which set of grandparents did the greater damage, Doc Ant.”
“What do you mean?”
“When I think about it, Lolo Carding and Lola Marita physically neglected Papa which could have led to his early death. Both Lolo Fernan and Lola Nita, on the other hand, made Mama feel like she was stupid and ugly compared to her kuya, Tito Abe, who was like the Superman of their family. It took Papa’s death for her to realize that she was not worthless, I think. Sometimes, I wonder if it is probably for the best that I am not going to have any kids. If my grandparents created so much dysfunction that it is felt two generations after, what hope do I have of raising children who are mentally okay?”
“You’re right that a lot of parenting involves a lot of passing on your trauma to your children. But being aware of it is the first step in avoiding the same traps that every generation repeatedly falls into. Let’s double back on what you just said about not having any kids. When did you realize this was going to happen?”
“Around the time I was turning twenty. I sort of accepted that without any timely medical intervention, there would not be any room for fatherhood in my life.”
“How did this make you feel?”
“Not too terrible, actually. At the time, typhoon Ondoy just hit the Philippines and there was a lot of talk that this was just a preview of the climate disaster to come. There would not be much of a planet to leave to whoever offspring I will have. The years have proven that my acceptance has been right: Pablo, Yolanda, Ompong, Rolly…”
“You’re not entirely without a point but that worldview is a bit pessimistic, don’t you think?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think you will change your mind about this?”
“Probably not.”
“You mentioned that you have a younger sibling? Brother or sister?”
“Sister.”
“Do you get along with her?”
“We talk from time to time. But she’s based in Sweden where she did her doctorate in biochemistry.”
“How did that make you feel?”
“I was genuinely happy for her. Scientists don’t get the recognition and compensation they deserve around here.”
“You don’t consider yourself a scientist?”
“I only have a BS in Psychology.”
“What school?”
“UP Diliman.”
“How about high school?”
“Rizal National Science High School.”
“You say you ‘only have a BS’ and yet your academic achievements are not minuscule.”
“Compared to what my sister achieved?”
“Why didn’t you pursue graduate studies then?”
“Because that would be unfair for our mother to continue being the breadwinner.”
“Fair enough. What’s your line of work?”
“I’m in the social media division for a marketing and sales agency.”
“How long have you been working there?”
“Since 2011.”
“How do you feel about your job? Ever thought about a career change?”
“I actually like what I do there.”
“All right. Let’s go back to your relationships with the opposite sex. You said before that your condition was the main factor regarding how you did not have much success getting into romantic relationships?”
“It definitely was. I have had crushes, but the only time I ever had a girlfriend was after I got treated.”
“But did the crushes ever express a mutual interest?”
“No, Doc Ant, they never did.”
“Why? What usually happens?”
“I chicken out when I realize I’m attracted to someone. The self-doubt creeps in over what they would think of a person living in an overgrown child’s body and then I have to move on because I will inevitably do something embarrassing.”
“What do you usually do that’s embarrassing?”
“I don’t have a poker face. Every time I have a crush on a girl, it’s not only obvious, it might as well be on a billboard on EDSA. It starts with my barkada noticing changes in my behavior: inexplicable perspiration, blushing and giggling, and increased excitability. And then one of them starts blabbing outside of our circle and then the whole class or org knows except her.”
“But are you sure she doesn’t know?”
“Yes…All of them…Well, almost all of them. There was a girl once in college whom I fell madly in love with because she was beautiful. I think one of my classmates compared her to a famous painting of the Madonna. I forgot the name but I know it was by Caravaggio. My classmate was taking an arts elective at the time. When I saw that work, I could see why. And before I knew it the infatuation was in full swing with all the typical clichés: love at first sight and love is blind-”
“I’m sorry for interrupting you. Explain ‘love is blind.’”
“I was a bit of an elitist back then when it came to grammar, I suppose I still am. Her command of the English language was something I looked down upon. Ha ha ha ha. Sorry, I might be digressing.”
“No, no. These are important gauges of how your mind works.”
“So, anyway, the typical story, I had three classes with her. We hung out a lot with a small circle of friends, applicants in our org, PUGADSayk, and everyone could see that I had a crush, to which I would readily admit when probed. And then one day, out of the blue I received a text message from her saying ‘I’m not interested.’ And she wrote this in typical double o’s textspeak.”
“What happened after?”
“She did not push through with her application. She shifted majors. From psych, she went to broad comm.”
“Broad comm?”
“Broadcast communications. She’s actually a news anchor now for TV5. You’ll know her when you see her.”
“How old were you when this occurred?”
“I was 18.”
“And yet it still seems very fresh in your mind.”
“I don’t think a week goes by without me wondering how my life would have turned out if I had not gotten that text. It’s the curse of a vivid imagination and a long memory. Maybe in some parallel universe we did become a couple.”
“But we are here and that kind of contemplation is rarely productive. Are you in a relationship?”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“Since 2017.”
“That’s around the same time you got treatment…This is not a coincidence?”
“The effects of Nebido were not just physical but also psychological. They were a literal boost of confidence.”
“So you’re in a relationship? Boyfriend and girlfriend? Or already next level?”
“I proposed to her two years ago, during the second wave of lockdowns.”
“So you’re in the middle of wedding preparations?”
“Honestly, I’m having second thoughts about going through with it.”
“Why? How are things between you and her?”
“We’ve been going to various wedding fairs but we’ve only gotten one supplier, which is the jeweler for the rings….”
“…yes?”
“The reason why I’m getting cold feet is also why I’m here.”
“I would ask why you don’t just call off the wedding and break up, but I think I can guess why. After multiple attempts at getting a girlfriend, your first and only relationship is special and you have this sense of obligation to do everything to preserve it, am I correct?”
“Correct.”
“Let’s have the last few questions before we dive into your problem. What religion are you?”
“Non-practicing Christian.”
“What kind of Christian and why non-practicing?”
“Methodist. We used to go to church every Sunday when I was little. That stopped, of course, once Papa died. Not because of a general anger at God but because we really could not afford the additional expense of fuel going to the church in Quezon City from Antipolo. I think my sister said it best when she stated that if God was real, He would understand the situation we were in.”
“But you still consider yourself a believer?”
“I call it Schrödinger’s theism. People can ask me to lead the prayer during office activities and I will oblige them. I can fake belief to pass off as ‘normal’ but there is no deep connection to what I utter.”
“So, why don’t you just be honest that you’re no longer practicing?”
“And attract the judgment of ordinary people? When I was in college, I got condemning stares from people just for eating pork barbecue on a Friday during Lent. And we’re talking about the non-sectarian premier state university.”
“Populated mostly by graduates of Catholic schools.”
“You’re not wrong.”
“I think from what you’ve told me I can understand what it’s like to be you growing up. What brings you here?”
“I have been dealing with an intrusive thought.”
“What kind?”
“Everything that’s happened needs to be put into its proper context so there’s going to be a long background introduction. Is it okay if I do that?”
“Not a problem.”
“So, I’ve been working in this marketing agency since 2011. It’s an old multinational firm, MM Sales and Marketing. I was in the social sciences research division until last year. Someone in upper management finally understood and recognized the importance of new media to consumers from Gen Z and Alpha and they had an opening for someone to be in charge.”
“A promotion?”
“Pay-wise? No. It was only a modest increase in compensation. But I was basically the head of my own unit. Population: one. I made my own job description, created my KPIs, and evaluated myself. I could even opt to work from home two days during the work week.”
“Why do you think the company gave you this much freedom?”
“I think it’s because my time with the company has been unconventional.”
“Unconventional?”
“Most market researchers stay only for one or two years to get experience before getting better offers from other firms. Their strategy has always been being reliable and not about being cutting edge. They’re the Toyota to the Dongfengs and Byds. I was there for a decade and then COVID hit and it kickstarted my career trajectory.”
“The pandemic’s silver lining?”
“This might sound insensitive, but COVID set me on fire. I directed our research towards the ‘terminally online’ demographic and gave a lot of useful data to our clients. That’s why a lot of companies became more active in their social media presence during the early days of the lockdowns. It did not hurt that I had also been also part of that crowd since I was 11 and that my undergraduate thesis was about cyber psychology.”
“A sinecure for your hyper-productivity?”
“You could put it that way.”
“Sounds like a sweet deal.”
“This, of course meant a transfer in office. MM Sales & Marketing has two headquarters in Metro Manila. The one in Makati is for the rank-and-file, and middle and upper management. The regular forces. The one in Quezon City, closer to home, is for the cutting-edge people, the rock stars, the scientists with the grand ideas, the laboratory for cultivating complicated schemes and strategies. The ones who don’t have well-defined job descriptions but are somehow vital to the company. That is how I met her.”
“I think I know where this is going.”
“We’re still recording, right?”
“Yes.”
“I’m paranoid about uttering her name out loud and then the thought becomes real and then it starts affecting my actions.”
“I can turn it off.”
“No need to, Doc Ant. I guess I will just avoid saying her last name.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. So, anyway, that’s when I met her. Let’s call her Rani. Is that okay?”
“If it keeps your mind at ease…”
“It’s actually close to her name.”
“Is it just a coincidence that it’s also a Hindi word?”
“No.”
“Tell me more about you and Rani.”
“Because of an administrative screw-up somewhere, we got a basement office for over a year. It was made for ten people and the building managers promised that there would be others occupying what we would call The Bunker, but they never got around to making good on that.”
“Why were you put together?”
“The Quezon City offices are virtually empty. Plus, I think there was something about our personality profiles that HR knew that would have a synergistic effect on productivity.”
“And what does Rani do?”
“Her official title is Director for Client Recruitment and Motivation but that implies she has subordinates. Like me, she’s a one-person army who has the ear of all of these major brands. It was a coup when MM headhunted her.”
“I’m starting to see where this is headed, Carl. How good is she in her job?”
“Any sales tactics or ad campaigns you can think of in the past two years, there’s a fifty-fifty chance that it is her brainchild. Would you believe that?”
“There is definitely bias there, but sure.”
“We hit it right off. When it became clear that there was only going to be the two of us in that room, we conspired to have a full-sized couch and rugs added to our setup. A burned-out talent had left for the United States, so we looted his room and took whatever got our fancy. At the time, I was still happy with my current relationship, so, any funny ideas about Rani and I hooking up were virtually nil.”
“But the thought had occurred to you?”
“Hmmm…Okay, there was this one time around August last year. It was a pretty intense time for her. It was the end of her probee and she -”
“Probee? Sorry…”
“Probationary period. All new hires are initially evaluated for four months, no matter the position. She had passed hers with flying colors, of course. Out of nowhere, one afternoon, she lay flat on the couch and asked me if MM Sales will be around for the long term and if they ever did mass layoffs. The way our desks were placed, facing the walls, the only way I could face her to answer her questions was to have this, uh, view of her cleavage. Out of self-preservation, I had to pretend I was busy and look obliquely at her general direction while answering her questions.”
“Explain self-preservation.”
“I did not want to be reported to HR.”
“Why did she ask those questions?”
“She was going to purchase a condo and needed a huge bank loan. Long-term employment made sense.”
“Let’s go back a little. Last year, you shared an office with a woman you found attractive?”
“Yes.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think I’m getting the impression that the intrusive thought revolves around this Rani? And you are hesitant to voice it out because you are afraid it is going to become real that it would manifest?”
“All true, Doc Ant.”
“Last year you were able to ignore developing any sort of feelings.”
“Uhhhh…”
“Okay, let’s not use that term, then. Last year you were able to dismiss thoughts that you are now struggling with.”
“Correct.”
“What has changed, Carl?”
“A perfect storm of many good things, one very bad thing, and social media complicating matters.”
“Go on.”
“Around October last year, we managed to make an ad coup for one of the more well-known multinational fast-food chains that opened up here. This was around the time of the inflation. Remember the ad with the jingle that goes ‘Lahat nagmamahal…’”
“‘…ngunit amin kayong minamahal.’ That was quite the earworm.”
“There were TikToks and Reels using that sound and market share was crazy. That was the first of several other successful collaborations we did. It was her genius combined with my experience in seeking out social media trends that were being ‘heated.’ And, of course, there were incentives given to us, dinners at restaurants. Staycations. Electronic gadgets. Bonuses.”
“Wait…staycations? Thin ice…”
“Always separate rooms, of course. From time to time, my fiancée was my plus one.”
“Hold that thought for a while. We’ll go back to it. Does your fiancée know about this?”
“No.”
“Why haven’t you told her?”
“I had an insight a few weeks ago: A philanderer in the face of his indiscretions will never tell the truth, but an irrational, jealous woman in the heat of her fury will never see it.”
“That deserves to be etched on a marker somewhere. I’m guessing your fiancée is the ‘irrational, jealous woman?”
“We’re talking about someone who wanted me to take down a selfie I had with Karen Jimeno where I was visibly beaming even if she was a celebrity, already married, and I was out of her league. We’re talking about someone who does not want other women riding in the passenger seat of my car.”
“You understand these are all behaviors that merit attention and concern, right? The so-called ‘red flags?’ Let me briefly change the subject, have you shared your problem with your friends?”
“Only close ones.”
“What did they say?”
“All of them asked how it was going with my fiancée.”
“You know they have a point, right? We will return to this. For now, let’s go back, the other times when she’s not available and you have staycation incentives…in all that time, the the thought of you and Rani being together never occurred to you?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Really?”
“There are two things I remember from college that became my working theory of how feelings develop for me…”
“What are they?”
“The first is a shared interest. Last Christmas, I tried penabling her.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s a portmanteau of ‘pen’ and ‘enable.’ ‘Pen-abling.’ It’s a term we use in our hobby group when we try to get people to use fountain pens by giving newbies a starter one.”
“It did not work?”
“She used it for a few weeks to sign forms and requisition papers for some new ideas she was developing. And then once it ran out of ink, she just kept it in the jar on her desk. Like most people she got discouraged by ink stains on her fingers.”
“So, without that shared interest, nothing was planted. Yet.”
“There were. It was subtle and barely noticeable. We occupied the basement office in April of last year so it was only natural that she and I would add each other on social media. I don’t know if you’re aware but it’s uncommon for people to share their phone numbers these days unless you really know them?”
“Oh, definitely. You would not believe how many clinic appointments my secretary has to arrange using Facebook or Instagram Messenger. Anyway…”
“So, yeah, one of the regular things we did at the office was a CreaComm, Creative Committee, meeting with the other directors. The first thing she did after I accepted her friend request was to ask me what time it was. And then she’d usually bring up something not work-related in the chat.”
“She was the one initiating the chats last year?”
“Yes.”
“And you were able to remain detached because…”
“Sorry, Doc Ant. Even I am getting confused with how jumbled my story has become. Let me organize my thoughts.”
“Go ahead.”
“Last year I was happy with my life, my relationship, my career. Everything was going well. When all is good in the world, you don’t try to grab onto anything in a vain attempt to save it.”
“Something happened between then and now. Something that gave the sense of an ending that changed everything?”
“Yes. And I can break it down to three things.”
“Just three?”
“I’m sure now. Let’s go back to common points of connection. During my birthday last April, Rani introduced me to ultra-spicy condiments.”
“Hot sauce?”
“So much more than that, Doc Ant. Our local hot sauces like Jufran or the more well-known Tabasco or Sriracha, you’re lucky if you get to twenty thousand Scovilles. Even our siling labuyo tops out at one hundred thousand. During one of the celebratory lunch outs we had, she brought a small vial of dried Carolina Reaper.”
“Sounds foreboding.”
“These chili growers love theatrics. Fresh, these things reach more than a million Scoville units.”
“You went down the rabbit hole, didn’t you?”
“I always do a deep dive when I get introduced into something. Rani saw my interest and brought me along to other activities of the Philippine Hot Sauce Club and we both tried out for the Labuyo One Hundred.”
“Let me reframe and simplify that because of how absurd it sounds. You burned your anus trying to impress a girl? This is the first time I have heard of anything like this.”
“In hindsight, burning your taste buds and anus is not exactly the way to a girl’s heart.”
“But we rarely fall in love out of only one shared common interest, do we?”
“No. And this happened in the background of a crisis.”
“What kind?”
“Last May, the General Manager of MM announced his retirement. His successor, a very unpleasant woman, often butted heads with Rani during CreaComm meetings. We share the same opinion that she is not good at her job…No, wait…we both think she is not good at anything and she only rose through the ranks by kissing a lot of ass. She floats ideas during the meetings that fall flat with the rest of the CreaComm members. Rani would do this bit where she would roll her eyeballs upward while her eyelids flickered, like she was having a seizure, when this person said something astoundingly boneheaded.”
“But now she was in charge…”
“Yes and she had very traditional views about how the company was supposed to run. The previous GM was very liberal about concepts such as time-ins. We are an ideas company. Just produce top-quality output and you’re good. She wanted us to report like a traditional nine-to-fiver. This was not a problem for me but for Rani. I think you can guess why.”
“You know you’re exhibiting typical symptoms of limerence, right? You have your typical biases. Rani, in your eyes, can do no wrong. Even if the new General Manager’s rules are not exactly unreasonable.”
“But she delivers excellent output.”
“Output that you – think about it – is indistinguishable from yours.”
“Huh…But she needs inspiration that’s why she goes out and often.”
“To do what? Sorry…Don’t answer that. That’s not the point of our consultation. I just want you to be aware that your blind spot allows her to take advantage of you. You’ve mentioned the new General Manager, how did that situation resolve?”
“For a while, she was placed on probation, Doc Ant. The General Manager was set on getting her out. But, as August came around, something…I would not call it good…happened.”
“But not necessarily bad?”
“No. The General Manager had a heart attack. Fatal. In less than a year’s time, we had two changes in leadership. And our current head wanted it back to the way it was before.”
“Okay, so you mentioned the first two factors: common interest and crisis. What was the third?”
“So, last year, I told you how we became friends on social media, right?”
“Right.”
“I’m an over-thinker and I tend to review my interactions and conversations with people I find fascinating. I even scrolled up to the very first message she sent me.”
“Not unusual. But, again, limerence.”
“Well, Facebook makes it very easy to do this with their ‘Memories’ feature. During the time Rani was getting heat from the General Manager, I was going through my posts from last year, and I noticed that her name is often the one that appears on reactions to my posts, even the bizarre ones I make out of my bizarre and sick sense of humor.”
“And then it stopped just recently.”
“How did you know?”
“Sounds like withdrawal symptoms to me.”
“What?”
“Her ‘likes’ and comments, Carl, are like getting a hit of an addictive substance. A shot of dopamine in pop neuroscience parlance.”
“Got it.”
“You’re probably going to tell me that the third factor is a little attention and a little validation and BOOM instant infatuation and that somehow this is unique to your experience. But it’s not. Everyone goes through this.”
“Huh. But – ”
“It’s really rude of me to interrupt you, but you have to keep that into perspective, Carl.”
“You’re right, Doc Ant. But I also suspect that changes in Meta’s algorithm might have had a contribution to it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Sometime during July and August, did you notice how Facebook kept asking you if you wanted to see more posts from a certain person or group?”
“Assume that I completely understood that. Let me think for a while…Vaguely…Yes?”
“I haven’t completely figured it out, but it seems like friend’s posts are only appearing on your feed when they align with your interests which Meta knows with the years, if not a decade’s worth of data it has on you.”
“Okay…”
“It would be hilarious if the algorithm manipulated me into developing these feelings. My life ruined by a few lines of computer code.”
“That would make a great inter-disciplinary research work.”
“You’re taking all this without any skepticism, Doc Ant.”
“We’re talking about the same company that mined our data and manipulated our emotions to help secure the election victories of leaders that made the world a worse place? This is the same social media platform that enabled genocides in Myanmar and Ethiopia? I would not put anything past them.”
“Come to think of it…”
“Is that it? Is there anything else you want to share, Carl?”
“There’s more. But I don’t want this part on tape.” “All right. I’ll stop the recorder.”