My first mother-in-law by education was a tiler-plasterer. Faced with the difficulties of life, she registered at the labor exchange. There she was offered to take a monthly course and become a "psychologist". After the courses, she received a referral to the appropriate position in the regional public protection service. Disabled people and pensioners liked the new "psychologist" - to be fair, I will say that she was an everyday smart and pleasant aunt in communication. After all, they basically need to talk "for life", and not delve into the ego-superego, anima-archetypes. Having gained experience, the mother-in-law, in addition to the SZN, opened a private practice - people began to come to her home for good money. Then she polished the topic with a light veil of esotericism - and the business generally went well. At the same time, once having seen the books of Bern, Jung, Freud, etc. in my place, the mother-in-law asked with a blue eye what kind of books they were and whether they were interesting. This did not stop her in her conversations now and then with an important look to insert - "as a psychologist, I can say ...". This is one option.
And another option - well, let's say, my former classmate, whose rooftop began to go back in school. She went to the psychology department of Moscow State University to understand her own cockroaches. After graduating from university, two facts emerged:
1) The cockroaches just got fat and learned special terminology.
2) The girl categorically cannot work by profession, because she hates miserable people and everything connected with them.
For some time she worked in the field of HR, and only a hairdryer helped her to stay for eight hours in the office. When a months-long marathon depleted the body to the limit, I fell into a durgeon. After discharge, she began to conduct psychological consultations via the Internet (also, like her mother-in-law, not without an occult shade ... our people love this business). I quickly tied it up, because love for people in her did not increase, and each consultation threatened to return to the durk. Well, then there was a lot of interesting things, but I believe that the general impression has already been made.
In my youth, I myself turned to psychologists several times, but in an acceptable price category I ran into only the two options described above: "plasterer with well hung tongue "or" certified schizophrenic ". One uncle helped in something, but one visit to him cost 10 thousand rubles. You won't go the second time ... But in general, I came to the conclusion that no one is capable of giving more than books. You need to study yourself and help yourself.
After communicating with a psychologist, a person understands that first of all he must change himself, work on himself. And to understand this, he must go to a psychologist and also pay money for it.