Monday, July 24, 2006

More Psychiatrist jokes

How can you differentiate the patient from the psychiatrist on a Psych ward?

With luck, the patient gets better.



How can you tell the psychiatrists from the patients on the psych ward?

The psychiatrists take their meds.


Patient: "I can't decide whether to slash my wrists, or blow my brains out."

Psychiatrist: "You have difficulty making decisions."


A man walked into a therapist's office looking very depressed.
- "Doc, you've got to help me. I can't go on like this."
- "What's the problem?" the docotor inquired.
- "Well, I'm 35 years old and I still have no luck with the ladies. No matter how hard I try, I just seem to scare them away."
- "My friend, this is not a serious problem. You just need to work on your self-esteem. Each morning, I want you to get up and run to the bathroom mirror. Tell yourself that you are a good person, a fun person, and an attractive person. But say it with real conviction. Within a week you'll have women buzzing all around you."
The man seemed content with this advice and walked out of the office a bit excited. Three weeks later he returned with the same downtrodden expression on his face.
- "Did my advice not work?" asked the doctor.
- "It worked alright. For the past several weeks I've enjoyed some of the best moments in my life with the most fabulous looking women."
- "So, what's your problem?"
- "I don't have a problem," the man replied. "My wife does."


A guy had been feeling down for so long that he finally decided to seek the aid of a psychiatrist. He went there, lay on the couch, spilled his guts then waited for the profound wisdom of the psychiatrist to make him feel better. The psychiatrist asked me a few questions, took some notes then sat thinking in silence for a few minutes with a puzzled look on his face. Suddenly, he looked up with an expression of delight and said,
- "Um, I think your problem is low self-esteem. It is very common among losers."


Dr. Jones, a young psychiatrist begins his practice in an office building. After several weeks, he realizes that the older man he usually sees in the elevator each morning and evening is Dr. Smith, also a psychiatrist.

Finally, after a month or two of frequently sharing the elevator, Dr. Jones pulls his skewed tie, rakes his fingers through his disarrayed hair and approaches his colleague: "Dr. Smith," he says. "Every day I step into this elevator in the evening, exhausted and frazzled by the gut-wrenching stories of my patients, and you appear as calm and cool as you do each morning. Tell me, tell me please how to do it? How do you maintain your equanimity after listening to the woes of your patients."

"My dear Dr. Jones," replied the older man. "Who listens?"

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