Original subtitles

(insects chirping outside)

Brooke: I swear I tossed it in here last night.

Whatcha looking for?

My lipstick, my good neutral.

Puttin' in a lot of effort for this guy, don't you think?

Listen,

this isn't gonna work if you're gonna flex

at every mention of any other human male

-I come in contact with. -I'm only pointing out that

you've known Paul for ages.

I guarantee you he's not gonna care

if you're wearing the wrong shade of lipstick.

Well, maybe not, but I do.

-Oh! Come on... -Hey.

Hey, hey, hey.

Take a breath. Come over here.

(sighs)

(soft laugh)

You can cancel, you know.

I'm sure you can find another time.

He's catching a red-eye tonight.

How about I finish that later?

Oh, hell no. This is between me

and whatever the fuck this is.

-Help yourself to my drink if you want. -(laughs) Oh, I'm good.

Are you...

Do you think you might be pregnant?

Oh.

No, I on-- I only meant that

I had to get through this visit with Paul before...

Oh. Oh, yeah.

(soft laugh)

It's way too early to know anything.

This baby thing is a long shot, if it happens.

Yeah. Of course. That makes sense.

(sighs) You gonna...

tell Paul the lawyer found your son?

Probably. Maybe.

Yeah? What do you think he'll say?

Well, I already know what he's gonna say.

(imitating): "And how do you feel about that, Brooke?"

(both laugh)

That's insightful.

Well, he takes a more classical approach,

but, hey. It's a classic for a reason.

(sighs)

Don't you think that's long enough?

Well, that's a rookie mistake.

People think super-glue dries in a few seconds.

If you want real bond strength,

you gotta be patient.

Can take 10, sometimes 15--

You're really gonna make me say it, aren't you?

(sighs)

Paul means a lot to you.

I want to meet him.

I just...

I think it would be good for

me and you to let this play out

between us for a minute before...

(sighs) Before you...

-fully acknowledge my existence in your life. -It's not that.

-Yeah. Hide Quasimodo in the belfry. -Really, it's not.

It's not that it even hurts my feelings that much,

but it just gets so fucking old.

If you're here, he'll know.

-You haven't told him you're drinking again? -(sighs)

Why?

It's not like he's your boss.

He's your supervisor, your therapist.

Well, it is what it is, and nothing about that's

gonna change before he shows up in five minutes, so...

Guess I'll hit up Isaiah.

Grab a beer or something.

At least it'll get me out of this fuckin' house for a minute.

(opens, slams door)

♪ ♪

(insects chirping)

Brooke (echoing): You seem far away.

Is there something you're looking for out there?

I'm just... waiting.

Brooke (echoing): Yes.

-Waiting. -(sighs)

Alone with nothing but your thoughts?

And that being the case,

I guess you might as well take a seat.

(puts down glass)

(light piano music playing)

♪ ♪

What is it?

What do you mean?

Something's clearly working its way to the surface for you.

You can give me that look,

but I'm doing pretty darn well at the moment,

all things considered.

What comes to mind when you say that?

Well...

(sighs) On Monday, I'll receive

my son's information, and a mystery

that has haunted me for over half my life

will finally be solved.

Simple as that?

Why couldn't it be?

Was finding him simple?

No.

No, not exactly. But, um...

(inhales)

-And there's Adam. -What about him?

Well, the conversations we're having about our future,

it's not like we've ever been here before.

It feels...

Yes?

I don't know.

Like progress.

Progress. Mm.

Clinical term. Not a lot of romance in it.

-It's realistic. -Ah.

The mark of every love story for the ages. Pragmatism.

(scoffs) I thought you would see it as a good thing.

It's coming from a less emotional place

than I've been recently.

You mean it's progress?

Okay, okay.

You're not wrong.

If you were sitting here, conjuring rainbows and rapture,

I'd also have concerns.

So there's no winning with you.

That's all I want for you.

You know that, right?

These conversations we have, that's me cheering you on,

wanting you to get in front of whatever's holding you back.

It felt good to throw out his ashes.

I don't regret it. I really don't.

Those ashes weren't him. Not really.

Mostly, it felt like a step towards some greater release,

which is good.

I think.

So...

as I was saying,

all things considered, I'm doing pretty well.

-I can see that. -(puts down glass)

Okay, Rita.

What you're going through is a lot.

All of it.

I validate it. I honor it.

And it's exactly why you return to the thing

you know for a fact brings relief.

In the short term.

But what if I can handle it?

Okay. Let's play that out.

What does handling it look like?

It's bringing my best to my patients

in the day, and unwinding,

with a few drinks, at night, like an adult.

(scoffs) I've also been sober for nine years.

You think I haven't learned something about

my relationship with alcohol in all that time?

So that's what's happening now?

Work all day, cocktail or two at night?

-Something like that. -Never sneak a drink between patients

just to take the edge off?

-Fuck you. -Sure.

If you've been able to show up for your patients

day in and day out, then yes. Fuck me.

I have.

I can do that sober, and frankly, I can do that

even if I've had a drink.

You take great pride in your ability to compartmentalize.

It's almost a...

full-time job for you at this point.

No, I take great pride in my ability to help my patients

find happiness. That's my job.

It is?

(laughs) Here it comes.

It's just a little Jung.

Ugh!

The principal aim of psychotherapy is not to

transport the patient to an impossible state of happiness.

But to help them acquire...

Both: a steadfastness and a philosophic patience

in the face of suffering.

(soft laugh)

-Jung really knew his shit. -(laughs)

Indeed he did. (chuckles)

It really is the one debt I'll always owe Paul.

What is?

He saw my potential.

(clicks tongue) Was easy to see. (scoffs)

A young woman he met had more insights and observations

than clinicians twice her age because she had lived.

Because things had happened to her.

Success, loss, addiction, rehab.

You were able to relate to anyone with profound empathy.

All you'd been through, good and bad,

that's what made you great.

Know who recognized your potential first?

You.

In fact, I think you've known

your own promise for a very long time.

Might be the truest thing you know about yourself.

(scoffs) That's the exact message I got as a child.

"Brooke,

"you know what's best for you.

We trust you to make your own decisions about your life."

No. You didn't get that message.

-My father wouldn't-- -I know.

You talk about your father a lot.

You offer him up any time someone tries to get

to the bottom of things with you.

Don't you think he deserves to have a finger pointed

-in his direction? -I do.

But it's also an easy answer.

"He made me give up my child."

It's a pain anyone can understand,

but is it really that simple?

Why do you think you never talk about your mother?

W... What do you mean?

It's a conspicuous absence.

It's 'cause there's nothing to sort through. I loved her.

She never put the same pressures on me as my father did.

She was at her best when I was sick

or sad or needed help.

She knew how to show up in the hard times.

Her death was very painful for you.

I mean, sure.

Of course. It was...

25 years ago.

She was young.

Youngest stroke victim her doctor ever tried to save.

Bleeding was just too much.

It's probably what she wanted all along.

What she wanted?

(sighs) A quick death. Don't we all?

You think she wanted to have a catastrophic stroke?

(scoffs) Of course she didn't want it.

But there are the studies,

the links between

hemorrhage and heavy drinking.

She didn't take care of herself.

She didn't take care of herself.

I see what you're driving at.

-What am I driving at? -It's obvious.

So say it.

She didn't take care of herself, which means

she didn't really take care of me.

How does it feel to say that?

Tell me about her.

What was she like?

I haven't thought about her for a long time.

And I think that's part of the problem.

My mother was...

a force.

A whirlwind.

Always doing.

Where it would take my father 40 minutes to smoke a cigar

without lifting his gaze from the window, my mother was...

I don't know, a--

an electron.

Here one second, there the next. (laughs)

Maybe two places at once. (chuckles)

And if you needed her?

How'd you get her attention?

We'd collide.

Anyway, I think she thought

having a drink or two in the evening would

slow her down, help her relax.

But,

it just made the trail she left behind messier.

There's this sense you develop when you live with someone

who's an alcoholic.

You can open the door, and within a fraction of a second,

you know...

if they've been drinking.

You don't even have to hear 'em or see 'em. You just...

know.

(scoffs)

It was the only feeling I trusted because

everything that came afterward was unpredictable.

You know, she... could be in the kitchen,

in a good mood,

trying out some new recipe for pie crust

or spaghetti sauce, or I could

slip past her nodding off over the laundry basket on the couch

and hole up in my room.

My father would come home and make her wake up,

and I would just turn up Power 106 and hit the books.

Or I could search the house for her,

terrified I'd find her hurt or...

worse.

But no.

She'd been picked up for a DUI leaving the bank,

and she was spending the afternoon

sobering up in a holding cell

like every other mother in the neighborhood.

I swore I would never be like her.

I know.

The things she would say and do.

It was embarrassing to my father, too.

You know, this was a man who had a vision for everything.

You know, plot of land, design of a home,

a cut of a suit.

It killed him

that he couldn't just

make her fit into his vision for our family.

How do you think she felt?

Oh, she probably...

she probably felt trapped. Just like I did.

I would go to the best schools.

I would grow up Jack and Jill.

I would have that cotillion.

You wouldn't be another embarrassment to the family.

You wouldn't be a 15-year-old mother.

You mean you wouldn't.

Right.

Yes.

I wouldn't.

And that was her solution, too.

(puts down glass)

She had the most gorgeous voice.

-(laughs softly) -I would catch her

singing to herself.

And I would, uh...

(exhales) just...

sing quietly along with her.

I didn't want her to stop, but...

I also wanted to be...

swept away with her.

But I loved her.

-You did. -And I know she loved me...

in the ways she could.

It's a scary thought, isn't it?

That love isn't necessarily enough to...

prevent the damage.

Probably scary enough to keep you

from having a family of your own.

You blame your father for everything, then and now.

Always have.

But...

maybe, somehow, your mother's at the root of your pain.

No, you're wrong.

It's not pain I'm really feeling

when having a drink is the best idea I've ever had.

It's not even that deep.

Then what are you feeling in those moments?

Mostly anxiety.

I'm uncomfortable a lot of the time.

And where does that come from?

-I just told you. Anxiety. -But where does

anxiety come from? Fundamentally.

First Jung, and now Kübler-Ross?

Just go with the premise.

There are two primary emotions, fear and love.

Everything spills from those two core feelings. So,

anxiety.

-Fear. -Right. So, what are you afraid of?

-A lot of things. -Yes,

but what are you afraid of?

I don't know. I'm...

I'm unlovable.

Go further. Unlovable in what way?

Oh, that's easy. I-I'm not enough.

Enough easy answers. What's the hard one?

That I'm too much!

Yes?

(gasps) That I was too much for my mother!

Too perceptive.

Too inquisitive. Too capable.

-(crying) -These are the exact qualities

a mother should celebrate in a child.

This is it, Brooke.

-You recognize that, right? -(sobs)

You are pure gold.

You glow.

And, unfortunately, that blessed fact

never got you the love you wanted from her.

The mirror you held up to her was blinding.

And every drink you take

tarnishes that brilliance.

-(gasps) -Every day you spend with a man

you have doubts about dampens your power.

(gasps)

(gasping)

You think that by lowering yourself,

you become more lovable.

(gasping)

-And your son... -Enough.

Enough. (panting)

-You need to hear this. -No.

Paul should be here.

I want to hear what he has to say.

And where is he?

He hounds me for a month, and then it's this

last minute, one sentence, "can't make it" text.

And why does that surprise you?

What? No.

-Paul is very reliable. -No, I mean

why does it still surprise you to find yourself alone?

You sit here with your patients,

an audience to their joys and heartbreaks.

There are echoes in their stories but every one is unique.

Uniquely felt. Singular.

And that perspective forces an understanding

that loneliness is woven into

the fabric of being human.

We become separate the moment we leave our mothers' bodies,

and from that point on, one only has one's self.

Isn't our job, at its heart,

it isn't to teach our patients anything.

It's to simply help them unearth

what they already know about themselves.

Their authentic nature.

Their truth.

So, yes, Paul could be sitting here right now.

He could have a lot to say. He could say nothing at all.

He could cancel right before he was supposed to be here

just like he did, and it wouldn't change a thing.

Because, deep down, you know.

♪ ♪

Your son doesn't want to be found.

Why upend his entire life

for some fantasy that won't be realized?

To make yourself feel even worse?

No matter what message you got from your mother...

you don't have to be sad to be loved.

The only way for you to experience real love

is if you stop dimming your light.

I'm sorry I can't make this okay for you.

All I can do is encourage you to sit with your pain.

Have patience with it.

(echoing): Become steadfast in it.

Make it mean something.

♪ ♪

(puts down glass)

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪