In Treatment (2008–2010): Season 2, Episode 31 - Mia: Week Seven - full transcript

Hello, Mia.

So how have you been?

Quiet.

I hadn't heard from you.

Did you get my message?

Yes. Thanks for your call.

- And how are you feeling?
- How do I look?

That's a lawyer technique, right?
Answer a question with a question?

Well, I thought I'd hit bottom

at the end of the last session,

but it went downhill from there.



I did figure something out, though.

I'm stopping therapy.

In Treatment, S02E31
Mia: Week Seven

I appreciate what you've done.

I know I'm a tough case.

But if every time
you go to the doctor,

you end up feeling worse,
then it's time to move on.

And I could have called, but I wanted
to come in and say goodbye...

and wrap things up.

I understand.

You're not going to
try to convince me to stay?

Is that what you'd like me to do?

I just assumed you'd be all over me,
"therapy this, therapy that."

You want me to hard-sell you



like a guy selling you
a vegetable peeler on the street?

Jeez, Paul,

don't I get to be the angry one here?

You mad because I want to
leave or has something happened?

You look like you want
to take your ball and go home.

Maybe you're right.

If therapy hasn't helped,

the last thing I want to do
is keep you here, make you feel worse.

That's what happened
after the last session.

I felt like... shit.

And I went home and I called my dad,

thinking that I should get
to the bottom of everything.

He came over
and I started asking questions

about my childhood,
all the things we'd talked about.

He turned it on me...

why was I creating problems,
bringing up ancient history?

Maybe he felt threatened.

Especially when I asked him
if it was his idea to sell the piano.

He lost it...

I shouldn't blame him;
I should be grateful;

I wouldn't be alive without him;

that I was impossible
from the day I was born,

and maybe that's why
my mother went nuts.

So it was all your fault.

Yeah and he went on...

it's no surprise
that I can't find a man;

who would want...

a woman like me?

And then he walked out,

saying that he didn't want
to talk to me again.

So therapy isn't the only
reason you had a bad week.

I never would have confronted him
if I hadn't been talking to you.

So thanks to all of this, I have...

lost my father.

You haven't lost your father.

He's still in your life,

but you did lose the father
that you thought you had.

He didn't refute
your mother's version of events.

He just chose not to answer.

And that confirms a lot of the things
that we've been talking about in here.

Okay, Paul, I get it.

I didn't have the perfect dad.

You're right and I'm wrong.
Is that what you want?

So put that in today's session notes,
which I hope you keep now...

"Successfully shattered patient M.'s

"romanticized image
of her narcissistic father."

Actually what I would write is

"Mia, born to a depressed mother,

"idealizes her father
so as not to feel completely alone.

"And this week,
after finally confronting him,

"she can see her dad
for who he really is."

It is shattering,

but if you can now move beyond
that connection to your father

it may open the possibility

of finding love elsewhere.

You mean, if I stay in therapy.

That's one way.

It's certainly not the only way.

Good, because I really am done.

In fact, maybe I should get going.

You can, of course.

But since you're here,
maybe we can at least work on...

closure.

I know you were unhappy
about the last time

that we ended therapy.

I'd like to do a better job this time.

How long does that take?

Well, that's up to you.

If this is your last session,
we'll use the time that's left.

And I'll be honest, you be honest.

How's that?

Okay, last session.

What do we do?

You haven't told me what
happened after your father left.

That's how we do closure?

Couldn't we just burn
some sage or something?

I enjoy your humor a lot, Mia.

But sometimes I feel it's a way of...

it's a way of hiding.

After dad left,

I pretty much stayed home all week.

In bed.

And I know that sounds bad,
but I'm here now,

so I got through it.

Did you get out of bed at all?

Bathroom trips, kitchen trips.

I answered the door for deliveries.

Did you talk to anybody?

My trusty assistant Henry,

who threatened to come over
and cook for me.

- You didn't want to call me?
- What would I have said...

"I'm under the covers 'cause
I'm afraid of the living room"?

If that's how you felt, then yes.

Have you been feeling a little hopeless?

I'm not suicidal, Paul, don't worry.

I am pretty tough.

Does being tough mean you have to
suffer through things like this alone?

I just felt like the bed was safe...

and the living room was... scary.

So you took to your bed...

like your mother did.

She had post-partum.

What's my excuse... post-non-partum?

I wouldn't belittle what
you've been through, Mia.

You wanted a child.

You thought you were having one.

That's a painful loss.

And on top of that,
when you were vulnerable

and needed your father the most...

he wasn't there for you.

Maybe the same way
he wasn't there for your mother,

when she couldn't get out of bed.

This is exactly why
I'm done with therapy.

Every time we talk, I feel like

I need to see a therapist
just to get through the day.

Okay, I hear you.

- No more dad. No more mom.
- Is this how closure works?

You remind me
of my miserable family life,

and then my love life, and then what?
Global warming?

So what would you like to talk about?

I was thinking about
getting a parrot,

as a pet,

instead of a boyfriend or a therapist.

I could name it Paul,

and I could teach it to say things like,

"What would you like to talk about?"

Or "Is it me or is it your father?"

But then I found out
that parrots live for about 80 years.

And I don't think I could
stand anybody for that long.

So you want to go,
but you also want to keep me around,

or at least you want to keep my voice.

Look, Paul,

I like you...

as a person.

I mean, that's pretty obvious.

If we were friends,

that would be great.

But we're not.

And I don't imagine you're
going to become my friend.

That's against the rules.

Unless, of course, my name were Laura.

- You're still angry about that.
- Maybe I'm just an angry person

and I should just accept
myself for who I am.

- No, you're specifically angry at me.
- No, I said I like you.

And you want me as a friend
but not as a therapist.

You want what I can't give you.

What else is new?

Maybe the question isn't
why you're leaving, Mia,

but why you came back in the first place.

You clearly knew that I was
being sued for malpractice. And

you believed that I had
failed you 20 years ago.

Think about it.
What kind of choice was that?

It wasn't a really good one.

Or maybe it was perfect...

if you were trying to choose
a therapist in the same way that

you choose the men in your life,

look for someone who's
likely to let you down,

do everything you can
to drive him away,

and when he fails you,
which he must inevitably,

then you get to rage against him.

Nicely done.

You've even doubled back to dad,
without having to mention him.

Look, Mia, of course you're free
to leave therapy,

but my guess is, until you untangle those

crossed wires,

the next man, and the one after that,
and the one after that

they're going to disappoint you, too.

That's my lifelong pattern

because I've been

too attached to bad dad?

Why didn't you tell me this 20 years ago?

- I mean, what the fuck?
- Are you saying it's my fault?

Maybe I would have had a decent
life if I had known that.

It's a little late now.

Would you have even heard me
if I'd said it that back then?

So you waited?

And while you waited,
I hit perimenopause? Great.

- You're doing it again, Mia.
- What?

Blaming me for not giving you
what you need when you needed it.

Now I get it.

Closure is you telling
me that it's all my fault

and that I set you up.

That way we can both
have what we want:

I can be mad at you,
and you can be done with me.

Here's where you tell me how relieved
I'll be when you walk out the door.

And then you're going to say

that you're like a knife in my neck,
that it'll feel good when you're gone.

That how it goes, isn't it?

See, this is your specialty, Mia.

And if you want to keep repeating
that pattern, that's fine. Go ahead.

But if you want to make
a change in your life,

I suggest that you stay in therapy.

And it doesn't even need to be with me.

Can we talk about your patterns?

My patterns?

Like what?

How you like to have a woman on the couch

who thinks she's in love with you,

how you get off on that.

Get off on it?

I've seen how you look at me.

You hold up that

neutral face pretty well,
but I see when it slips

and you're looking at my neck...

or my legs...

or my breasts and you're wondering
what it would be like.

Come on, Paul, you said you'd be honest.

How about you drop the act?

You know you'd rather have
me as a patient than some

hedge fund guy whose
bonus has been reduced.

Don't tell me you haven't
had fantasies about us.

Crazy chicks are hot in bed, right?

What's the matter?
Am I making you uncomfortable?

Why don't we just go in
the bedroom right now and fuck?

Or how about on the kitchen counter?

I bet you never did that with Laura.

So there's nothing to
be learned from therapy,

so let's just go fuck? Is that it?

At least we'd get some relief

from our miserable lives.

So that's your version of closure?

It would make us feel better,
instead of pretending that this

talking nonsense actually helps.

What would it be like if you
broke all the rules for me?

You mean if I said -- yes?

So you want to?

What if I do?

What would happen?

What are you saying?

Would you finally feel special enough?

Would it fix everything,
to win like that?

Or would you just blame
me for crossing the line?

You're a lawyer, for chrissake.

You know what it would mean.

Then I would be truly
guilty of malpractice.

You've probably represented
doctors like that.

Hell of a way to get out of therapy,
I have to say...

- turn me into one of your clients.
- That's not what I'm doing.

Isn't it? Then I would need you.

You would be in control.

And that would be much
more comfortable for you,

to have me back in your office.

Maybe...

Maybe that's why you really do it.

What?

- Your job.
- You're changing the topic.

Are you getting scared?

I'm trying to help you. That's my job.

What's yours, Mia?
What do you do at work every day?

You know as well as anyone what I do.

How is your case going?

I wasn't in last week.
Don't you have a hearing coming up?

So they tell me.

But you're right,
you weren't in last week.

If you had gone in, what cases
would you have been working on?

No trials. I was supposed
to meet a new client,

a pediatrician who

misdiagnosed some nine-year-old kid,

almost killed him.

No wonder you stayed in bed.

I don't judge my clients, Paul.
I protect them.

And how many of
your clients are powerful men

who fail to protect
the vulnerable and the innocent?

They're being sued, Paul,

just like you.
That doesn't mean they're guilty.

And how long have you been doing that?

17 years.

How often do you call in sick?

Since I got there?

Five days, four.

In 17 years?

And vacations?

You don't lose the weeks
if you don't take them.

I see. But after last week,

after confronting your father,
you didn't go in.

According to you, I was depressed.

I think you were.

But I don't think it's a coincidence

that suddenly you didn't want to
defend somebody whose negligence

had harmed a child.

Look, I'm not saying they're all guilty,

but every time you stand in
that courtroom to defend a client,

I think you're actually defending
your father to everybody,

especially yourself.

Shit.

How long have you known that one?

Does it make sense to you?

I never made the connection...

and now I'm stuck with it.

I felt like I had nothing before.
Now I have less than nothing.

I know it feels scary,

but maybe that's a good thing.

It's a good thing that I have nothing?

Thank you.

Thank you. You've helped me
to realize that I've made

poor choice after poor choice
my whole life.

But you also have to realize, Mia,

that you're at a critical juncture
in your life,

that now you do have
the self-knowledge

to make different, better choices.

Don't give me any of this pollyanna shit.

And sometimes when you're
on the verge of real change,

that's when you fight the hardest.

When you first came back
I tried to ask you

about your connection to your father

and you shut me down. You didn't want
to know anything about it.

This past week you confronted him.

Yeah, look how well that worked out.

I'm not saying it was easy.
But maybe it's worth it.

To finally take off the blinders,

even if you don't like what you see.
Because what is the alternative?

Put them back on again
and wander around in the darkness?

Did you have to take them off?
I didn't do it. You did.

What are you thinking?

Nothing.

What am I going to do
with the rest of my life?

I want...

the same things I wanted
when I came here two months ago...

a man, a home, a family.

I'm no closer to getting them.

Do you really think that getting married
is going to make it all better?

Do you have any idea
of how many married people,

how many parents feel as empty as you do?

Let me ask you...

when was the last time
you felt real happiness?

A couple of weeks ago when I thought
that I was pregnant.

And what about
that made you feel good?

That it wasn't just me,
that my life had meaning,

that there would be

this other person, always.

Have you ever considered that maybe
it's not about a child, Mia,

or a husband?

Maybe that's just a picture in your head

from your family, from your friends,

from the culture.

Not everyone needs that

to live a full and contented life.

Maybe what you really want, Mia,
is to feel connected,

authentically connected

to somebody or something else.

And we both know that I can't have that.

- Why not?
- An authentic connection? Me?

- I've never had that. I'm incapable.
- Are you sure?

What about in here?

Are you kidding me?

I'm a mess in here.

I attack you. I've dumped on you.
I've tried to seduce you.

- I've been a train wreck.
- Okay, at times you have acted out.

But if you hadn't,
how could we examine it?

It's been your way of communicating
to both of us what you need.

You've also been honest, caring.
You've made yourself vulnerable.

You've shown me who you really are.

And you haven't walked away.

Yet.

We both know
that you really want to change.

That's the real reason
you keep coming back.

Yes, of course you want
intimacy in your life.

And I know...

I know that you're capable of that.

- Because we've had it.
- When? Name one time.

Now. Right now.

Our time is up, right?

Thank you, Paul.

It was a good session.

Goodbye, Mia.

So...

I guess I'll see you next week.

I'll be here.