Two Duets: Patient and Therapist

I set the alarm last night, since I missed my last appointment. She charged me for it, which is a fucked-up way to make money if you ask me. I just overslept, for God’s sake. Whatever. I do my goddamn best. I told her I needed to get my kitchen sink fixed. I lied when I said it had been broken for a month. It’s been over a year that I’ve been washing the dishes in the bathtub. Who the hell cares? Should I tell her I called the plumber just to make her think we’re making progress? If I can’t get my life to work, at least I can make my therapist happy. I know lying to her is a waste of money, but to see her look excited, hopeful — well, it’s better than leaving her office thinking she’s disappointed with me. I know she must be fed up even though she doesn’t act that way. First it was the fucking master’s degree. Couldn’t even begin to climb that mountain. Then it was the car. Sat up on cinder blocks for over a year behind my garage. She said it was a metaphor. A metaphor! Jesus.

~ERIC

I said I would listen,
and I will
but I never said
I would enjoy watching you
refuse to turn the knob
and open the door.

The very thing my father bellowed
echoes in my head:
“When are you going
to get on the ball?”
You walk around
in a dirty diaper
and blame it on your mother.
How is this easier than
finding some clean pants?

I freed myself from my father
so I could I listen to you
not listening to me.
You are what might have happened
had I not been angry enough
to grow up.

~ERIC’S THERAPIST

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What should I talk about today? Maybe the argument Ben and I had last night — but I think we’re over it. And I don’t want to make Ben sound bad. So maybe I’ll talk about the raise I got last week. I mean no one else in the department got one. I know it makes Ben feel lousy — that I’m making much more than he is. But for God’s sake, he sure enjoys the trips we take. And anyway, the subject of my income might make HER feel envious … I mean how much can a therapist make a year? I better just skip the whole subject. So what then? I know! The party we threw for Ben’s parents last weekend. Actually, I produced the entire event. Ben just showed up and played host. As usual, they gushed to him about what a wonderful time they had. They never said a word to me, other than some perfunctory oohs and aahs at the beginning. I try so hard to be the best daughter-in-law. I help them with their damn taxes every year and take time off to schlep them to doctor appointments. I don’t expect an award, but some gratitude once in a while would be nice.

~SUZANNE

Fabricating
an impression
like a letterpress invitation,
you must be tired
of performing your life,
expecting applause,
upstaged by neglect.

I myself am exhausted,
not from acting,
but from surviving
the long slog after
love and loss,
the exodus,
the throes of grief.

How to live
with disappointment
all around is the thing
and not succumb
to the undertow of temptation,
to the comfort of blaming,
to victimhood.

So please renounce your
almost silent, bitter
incantations.
You will neither get the love
you deserve
nor the attention
you crave.

You, like all of us,
must work with an imperfect life.

~SUZANNE’S THERAPIST