"What would you like to talk about in our session, today?"
"Do you want the right answer, or the truth?"
"I'd like to hear both the truth and the right answer, but I always prefer the truth."
"Well I know you want me to talk about my mother's death. But the truth is, I would rather discuss literally anything else."
"I still think it's something we should talk about."
"It was over fifteen years ago."
"And I still don't think you've fully accepted it."
"I think 'accept' is a weird word."
"And why is that?"
"Well it can mean a few different things, can't it?"
"What do you think it means?"
"See, I think I've accepted my mother's death. I've accepted it happened. I don't think it's her when the phone rings, I don't expect to see her in my apartment. It happened. I've accepted it happened."
"And yet it still bothers you."
"Of course it still bothers me, it was my mother."
"I think if you learned to accept it, perhaps it would bother you less."
"See, that's the other meaning of the word 'acceptance', the shrink meaning of the word, which means I'm okay with it. And frankly, it's bullshit."
"And why do you think that?"
"Because you're asking me to be okay with my mother dying, and that's never going to fucking happen. I'm never going to accept that my mom didn't see me graduate high school, or college. I'm not going to accept that she's not going to cry at my wedding, or meet her grandkids. I'm never going to be okay with the fact that I've lost fifteen fucking years of time that everyone else gets with their mom, and I'm never going to be okay with the fact that the universe somehow thinks I didn't deserve that."
"But you accept that these things are true."
"I wouldn't be angry about them if they weren't true."
"And how do you think you'll stop being angry?"
"Can you bring my mom back?"
"You know I can't."
"Honestly, I don't think it's possible, your kind of acceptance. I think you go through your life, and sometimes you're not angry for a couple of hours or days. Maybe those times I forget to be angry will end up lasting for longer as I get older. I don't know, you're the shrink, you tell me."
"I think that that's one form of grieving, and grieving can be a form of acceptance."
"It'd kill you to give me a straight fucking answer, wouldn't it?"
"I'm a therapist. It's not my job to give you answers."
"You're the worst."
"I assure you, you're not the first patient to tell me that. And on that note, I'm afraid our time is up. Same time next week?"
"Sure, I guess. Same time next week."
Created: Mar 03, 2012Document Media