Therapist N − 6
“Do you think you might be depressed?”
“I don’t know. What does depressed feel like?”
“What do you feel like?”
“Isn’t that a little on the nose? I mean, for a therapist to ask me how I feel?”
“Isn’t it a little on the nose for an obstinate teenager to avoid the question?”
“Fine. I feel like I have one hand sticking out over the event horizon and the rest of me is being sucked into a black hole.”
“Is that some sort of science fiction metaphor?”
“Science. Not fiction.”
“Would you care to explain?”
“A black hole is an area in space where matter is so dense nothing can escape, not even light. The event horizon is the border beyond which everything gets sucked in.”
“You feel like you’re being sucked into a lightless space from which there is no escape?”
“Yeah.”
“I’d call that depression.”
“But I have one hand sticking out.”
“You do. And I’d call that hope.”
“One hand doesn’t feel like hope.”
“It might be something we can build on.”
“Why do you think I’m depressed?”
“Why do you think you’re depressed?”
“Do you always answer a question with a question?”
“There isn’t always a reason for depression, Tess.”
“Wow, you’re some doctor.”
“But in this case, I think you know as well as I do why you’re depressed.”
“Harry.”
“Your father’s been gone four years, and you haven’t even begun to deal with his death. You haven’t grieved.”
“Isn’t depression one of the stages of grief?”
“Have you been reading pop psychology?”
“I prefer astrophysics. But we read Kübler-Ross in Intro to Psych.”
“As a high school sophomore you’re taking psych? You’re quite the precocious teenager.”
“I get that a lot.”
“And what did you learn from Dr. Kübler-Ross?”
“There are five stages of grief and depression is number four, so I must be doing pretty well. I’m sure my mother would be happy to tell you that I’ve been angry and I’ve been in denial.”
“It’s not a checklist, Tess.”
“Still, three out of five…”
“Tell me this, Tess. How often do you think about your father?”
“About Harry? I try not to think about him at all.”
“Why?”
“Because he left me, okay?! He was supposed to be the one who was always there for me, the one who had the answers, and he left and now there are no answers.”
“You blame him for dying?”
“It was either his fault or mine.”
“It wasn’t your fault, Tess.”
“Tell that to Marie.”
“Okay, Tess, I want you to try something for me before our next visit. Once a day, I want you to take fifteen minutes to sit and think about your father. Replay a happy memory from your time together.”
“Why should I do that?”
“Because you can’t grieve, Tess, until you fully comprehend what you’ve lost.”