Unexpected Item in Baggage Area: The Lifestyle Care Therapy Investigation

By Sarah Tonin

Lazy summary:

• Unique couples counselling roleplay experience 

• Straightforward booking process through the website and email

• Perfect for couples who enjoy roleplay without any hope of actual therapeutic outcomes

• Office features an impressively large computer monitor, it's a real must-see 

• Recommended, but for entertainment value only

From the Too Much Information Files of Sarah Tonin:

"Hold still," Violet commanded, tilting my chin toward the bathroom light. "We need to get the colour right."

I winced as she dabbed concealer around my left eye, the bruise still tender from our latest misunderstanding. She'd been working at it for half an hour, mixing and matching foundation pigment like a deranged Bob Ross. 

"Maybe a little more yellow?" She had found a spare doorknob and set it on the bathroom counter for reference. "Need the undertones to match. Don't want him asking questions."

"About what I walked into?" I prompted tentatively.

"After falling down some stairs." She added, ever-helpful. 

"Right." 

"Maybe if you weren't so clumsy, Sarah. Good thing it's endearing." She clicked her tongue--more on that later--and reached for the powder. "Still, might want to work on your spatial awareness. You can bring that up during the session if you like."

Seemed more physio than couples. Maybe Dr. Neil takes an integrated approach.

Investigation Note: To stress-test our therapist, we decided to portray our relationship as both emotionally and physically abusive. You wouldn't believe it, but Violet plays the part of a narcissistic sociopath better than any of my exes. For my part, there's never been a more helpless--or hysterical--victim. But we're fine. I promise.

Pre-Gaming Our Trauma

Every paranormal investigator has moments of doubt in her career. You wonder if you've been chasing the wrong mysteries. For months now, Violet and I hunted bigfoot, dodged temporal anomalies, and scraped ectoplasm from the soles of our shoes. I was concerned the real cryptid had been at my side this entire time.

A recent string of investigations left Violet insisting I was "missing obvious clues." Meanwhile, I kept feeling like she was more interested in the sorts of discoveries you can only make by flirting with the subjects of your research. Rightward swipes seemed to be the focus of her collection habits, to the disappointment of all those neatly-arranged vials with hair in them.

"We should try couples therapy," Violet announced one morning, not looking up from her phone. She definitely wasn't texting our waitress from the other night. 

My phone buzzed, freezing the coffee mug halfway to my lips. Dirk's message banner prominent atop my lock screen: "Heard you two were having troub--" A beat, then another buzz. "Check out Lifestyle Inc's therapists!"

Investigation Note: At time of writing, Lifestyle Care has two "therapists" available. Both are advertised to have real-world education, certifications, and experience. After our session, I'm sceptical. Therapists have to be licensed to practice in specific jurisdictions; usually, it's where the client is located. Practitioners are generally required to use communication channels that comply with privacy regulations such as HIPAA/GDPR. Second Life presents challenges in providing care that conforms to these bare-minimum requirements.

Lifestyle Inc. This was the same Lifestyle Inc. where Violet had gone on a date with Bigfoot. The same Lifestyle Inc. where our waitress became the subject of dessert. More and more, Lifestyle Inc. had woven its way into the very fabric of our relationship. And now they were offering a way forward. 

A way to fix things

Investigation Note: Booking our session involved requesting an appointment through a calendar on the Lifestyle Care website, and then paying in-world at their office. The process was simple and straightforward. 

A Formal Apology

It wasn't until we were in the Uber to our appointment that I remembered the intake form. Only one copy was sent to us. 

"I'll help you fill it out," Violet offered. By the time she was done with my answers, I felt more heavily edited than a Victorian diarist. Apparently, my "trust issues" needed highlighting, while her habit of wanting me to wear a GPS tracker was just "showing care."

"Shouldn't we each fill out our own?" I wondered. The driver's attention remained stubbornly fixed on the road.

"Why would you want to keep secrets from me?" she replied. Somehow, I ended up apologising.

Investigation Note: Although I booked a couples appointment, Violet didn't receive an intake form ahead of the session. Dr. Neil seemed to expect us both to have filled it out, but was happily willing to forgo the paperwork in favour of starting the session. 

Your Therapist Will See You From Behind This Fucking Giant Ass Computer 

"Remember," Violet coached as we waited, "you're supposed to have feelings. Big, messy, inconvenient ones that I so graciously tolerate." 

"Right, and you're--"

"Perfect. Obviously."

The concealer around my eye was beginning to feel caked on in the artificial light. It took a lot of willpower not to touch it. Dr. Neil appeared and offered a warm greeting, then whisked us into his office. 

"Make yourselves comfortable," he said, gesturing at a long sofa, far end of the room. He placed himself behind an imposing desk. It was equipped with an absolutely enormous computer monitor that hid him completely from view.

"Is his screen supposed to be so big?" I whispered to Violet.

"Everything seems normal to me," she replied, despite having to crane her neck to smile at our counsellor. "Maybe you're just feeling small today."

Investigation Note: The office setup seemed to violate some important principles of couples counseling. I've never had a therapist who hid behind a screen, or put a giant desk between us. Having a physical barrier in the way when you're trying to convince people to be open with you is bound to be counter-productive.

Five Easy Pieces

Dr. Neil started us off with some ground rules: Use "I" statements. No name-calling. Stay on topic. Don't interrupt. Take a break if the conversation gets heated. Basic stuff that Violet immediately--and productively--weaponized. 

"See, Sarah?" she said right after we both agreed. "You need to stop being so defensive."

"I haven't even said anything--" 

"That's exactly what I mean."

I looked to Dr. Neil--or rather, to the back of his monitor--for support. He was taking notes. About what, I'll never know. Apparently they're that confidential. 

The Gaslighting Olympics

What followed was a master performance in therapeutic malpractice. Every time I tried to explain how Violet's behaviour affected me--the constant criticism, the way she would "help" with my outfits by throwing out the clothes she doesn't like, her insistence that she know where I was at all times--Dr. Neil would somehow twist it to mean my own communication was the issue.

When I mentioned Violet's wandering eye at restaurants (and everywhere else), her mysterious nights out, her recent interest in behavioural conditioning, Dr. Neil responded by sharing anecdotes about his own relationship insecurities. 

"I had this thought, like I was not good enough," he explained, "but I realised I was mishearing what my partner was saying all along."

Violet beamed. "See, Sarah? All in your head."

Next, we discussed Violet's recent attempts to keep tabs on my whereabouts. Dr. Neil was eager to help reframe my concerns. "Have you considered how you might be mishearing Violet's feedback?" He took off his glasses, cleaning them in a way that was extremely punchable. 

"She literally just said she needs to 'monitor my growth at all times'" I pointed out.

"But did she use those exact words?"

"Yes? That's what 'literally just said' means." 

Dr. Neil nodded slowly and took another note. It felt pointed. "SARAH = PROBLEM" if I had to guess. 

Investigation Note: Although Lifestyle Care markets Dr. Neil as certified and experienced, in and at what remain delightfully vague. His therapeutic approach appears to be based on the underlying assumption that all relationship problems are simply misunderstandings. For the sake of this review (and to score comedy points) we chose to present our relationship as especially abusive. He didn't seem to notice. Or if he did notice, he didn't mind.

Mirror Moment Madness

The session reached peak absurdity with an exercise called "Hold My Mirror"--a technique that seemed specifically designed to make victims of emotional abuse question their grasp on reality.

Dr. Neil asked that we stand up and face each other. From now on, when Violet had feedback to share, I was to imagine her holding up a mirror to help see myself more clearly. And then he continued his super relatable anecdote about being in an abusive relationship where he was the problem, too.

"When I asked myself if she had told me I wasn't good enough, I could not count one time she said those exact words." 

Right. Because abusers always use direct language. They definitely don't operate through implication, manipulation, and a thousand small verbal cuts designed to erode your self-worth until you're grateful for whatever scrap of approval they--

Click click

"What was that?" Dr. Neil asked.

"What was what?" Violet responded innocently. There was something hidden in her hand. 

"I heard a clicking sound," He replied. 

I let out a sigh as my cheeks took on colour. "Yeah, that's her new thing. She makes it happen whenever I do something she likes." 

"It's like training a dolphin," Violet explained. "Just with more gaslighting." 

Investigation Note: I didn't even get a turn holding the mirror. Our time was up. 

Homework Horror

To wrap up our session, Dr. Neil assigned us homework. It involved an irrelevant relationship commitment quiz that Violet immediately tried to help me complete.

"I just want to make sure Sarah fills it out properly," she said in fluent Red Flag. 

"Can I do mine alone?" I asked.

"But why would you want to keep secrets from me?" Violet's voice was sweet as sugar; assuming, somehow, that you could form sugar into a nasty shiv. 

Post-Therapeutic Stress Debriefing

Walking out of Dr. Neil's office, I felt shaken and emotionally disoriented. Good thing we were just pretending. 

"That went well," Violet said while clicking her approval in my general direction. "I think he really gets us." 

The afternoon sun was out. It had become brighter while we were inside. My concealer was flaking. Violet noticed.

"We'll need to tidy that up next time. Can't have you looking unpresentable." 

Click click

Final Verdict

Would I recommend Dr. Neil's couples therapy? That depends. If you're looking for an actual therapeutic intervention, then no. Absolutely not. Go talk to a professional who's able to show you their credentials up-front. 

But if you're looking for an interesting improvisation exercise where you can explore toxic relationship dynamics while somebody somewhat therapist-shaped flails around offering unhelpful platitudes, Lifestyle Care has you covered. 

In concluding our investigation, we've decided to file Lifestyle Care's therapy as Conclusively Harmful. But harmful things can still be fun. Think alcohol. 

Violet's already booked five follow-up sessions. 

Investigation Note: Really, I don't know what's going on here. Is it real therapy that's just bad? Is it fake therapy that's just roleplay? Either way, a big "this is just roleplay" disclaimer would help clients manage their expectations. 

After all, nobody complains about how the food at RP dinner doesn't taste.

Booking Details

Counselling with Lifestyle Care can be booked by visiting https://lifestyleinc.wixsite.com/lifestyleinc/lifestyle-care

Prices range from L$1,000 to L$1,500 per 45-minute session.