“Why not?”

“Because they don’t really tell me anything about you as an individual. It just puts you in a yes-or-no square box, you feel me?”

Did she just say, “You feel me?” She did. Yes she did. I like this, too. “Yeah, I do,” I say, and just look at her.

“Let me tell you how I work. First of all, most of my patients come to me because they’ve had some kind of trauma or negative experience and they’re suffering. One of my goals is to help relieve some of your suffering and help you to learn something about yourself. But it’s something we do together.”

“Okay, but I don’t really feel like I’m suffering, except over the death of my mama, but when it comes to everything else, I’m just pissed off.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your mother.”

“Thank you.”

“Who are you pissed off at?”

“At my husband, my older sister, and my son. Some days my daughters is on the list, but not today. That’s it for right now.”

“Well, let me tell you how we can start. If you feel comfortable with me, during our first three sessions my hope is to begin to get a clearer picture of you and your background. This includes everything from what you believe in to any traumatic experiences you may have had, such as the loss of your mother—and that’s a biggie for most of us. As time goes on, when we’re really getting somewhere, these will probably be the times when you’re going to feel a little uncomfortable because I may say something that stirs something up. This is when you might not want to come back, but this is when we’re getting beneath the surface. This is when many of my patients start to cancel appointments and become angry with me to some degree, because they want to blame me for their discomfort.”

“I won’t do that,” I hear myself say.

“Let’s hope not. So—you have one sister for sure; do you have other siblings, Charlotte?”

“I have a older sister and a younger brother and sister.”

“So you’re in the middle.”

“I guess. But can I just tell you what my husband did, and then, if we have time, I wanna tell you about the fight me and my sister had right after Mama’s funeral—well, actually, it was the day of the funeral—and this is the oldest sister, who was Mama’s favorite, and she thinks everybody jealous of her ’cause she got money, but I ain’t, and she thinks her shit don’t stink—forgive my French—and she gets on my last nerve, and even though I love her I can’t stand her ass half the time, but because Mama made us promise, I’m supposed to spend Thanksgiving at her damn house, and I’m trying to get myself mentally prepared for more bullshit or else figure out how to just get along with the huzzy once and for all and be done with it. Should I start with my husband first?”