TV-Serie: In Treatment - 4x5
Are you okay?
I didn't expect you to answer so late.
You told me to call you if I needed you, and I did.
You're right.
I apologize.
As your therapist, it's on me to delineate the boundaries that are appropriate.
You know, I think I might just need a referral.
In order to refer you to a psychiatrst, I need to know more.
I haven't slept in six days, yo.
Lithium.
It's the only way I ever get any sleep at all.
There's something at the heart of your sleeplessness.
Are you gonna take care of me?
You expecting someone else?
Sorry to wake you.
You know, I don't come here to sleep alone.
You know what I'm saying.
Mm-hmm.
Do you...
miss Philly?
There's nothing that city's got that I don't have here.
Don't worry.
I'm not just talking about you.
You know, it used to be that I could knock back a few drinks...
fall asleep, sleep the whole night without waking.
And now, I can...
I can get to sleep, but I...
You probably need to drink a little more.
Why do you do that?
Do what?
Encourage my drinking.
I don't encourage it.
I just don't judge it.
Well, maybe you should.
Why?
As Rita says, one drink is too many and a thousand isn't enough.
Babe, you're the smartest person I know.
And you know yourself better than anyone, so if you wanna have a drink, you should have a drink.
I'm not gonna tell you what to do.
Okay?
Humans are fucking fascinating.
They're all just super interesting, but you know...
I'm trying to, you know, get you in...
What?
Brooke: What?!
You look like you got some sun this weekend, Eladio.
Did you spend some time outside?
Jeremy had aquatic therapy.
Hey.
Where's the guy with all the words?
My Monday morning poet laureate?
He's tired.
Still not sleeping?
I'd hoped things had changed since I didn't hear from you this week.
Well, you...
you said it was inappropriate to call, so...
tried being a good boy.
This might be a good time for us to discuss your "ask" at the end of our session last week.
About our relationship?
The "mother" of it all?
Yeah...
I don't know if I wanna talk about that, you know?
You're embarrassed?
Dude, I-I know it's not normal.
No, it is normal, Eladio.
It's very normal.
Have you ever heard of the term "maternal transference"?
Let me guess.
Uh, some whacked-out Freudian shit, like... "
I wanna fuck my mom, and I guess you while I'm at it."
I wouldn't put it quite like that.
Yo, just 'cause I want, like, a hug sometimes, or to, whatever, like, lay my head in someone's lap, doesn't make me a sex-crazed psycho.
A-and maternal transference can be as simple as that.
A patient, especially one with your history of neglect, can sometimes idealize their therapist as a mother figure and want the comfort and guidance they didn't get.
Okay, so...
so can we just, like, do that?
Only if it's in the service of you learning how to have those needs met in other ways.
Yo, listen, I don't wanna waste your time.
What do you mean?
Last time, you talked about process, you talked about not focusing on results, and...
I feel you.
I do.
And I don't mean no disrespect at the fuck all, but...
I might not be the audience for all this.
Therapy doesn't have a target audience.
Everyone can benefit.
Sure.
But, all this talking about the past, the psychic wounds and shit, I haven't slept better since we talked last.
I slept worse.
In what ways?
Last four nights, I've had the same dream.
About the snow and the ash?
And even though I haven't thought about this guy in years, it was Sikander holding my hand.
That was a locked box, and you unlocked it.
And I can't afford that.
Maybe if this was long-term, and we were gonna do this for, like, years, then maybe.
N...
Who's to say we can't?
Dr.
Taylor, you and I both know the financial realities that bar that from being the case.
This is short-term.
And it's possible that what I need isn't a therapist.
It's a pharmacist.
'Cause the only thing that's ever helped me sleep at all is the lithium.
And if that sounds bad, I'm sorry, but that's my reality here.
Alright.
What?
Go get your pills.
What?
Go get your pills and bring them here so I can see them.
Why?
Because I asked you to.
Count them, and let me know how many you have left.
Casi como...
16.
That's one a day.
We have two weeks.
You know what that means?
What?
We have time.
Now, if you commit to the work, you have my word I will make an assessment and refer you to a psychiatrist before your pills run out.
Fine.
Alright.
Let's do this.
Yo.
Now first of all, I have to ask...
Oh...
Oh, Jesus.
Hold up, wait.
What kind of fucking Stanford Prison Experiment shit did I just sign up for?
Whose name is on the bottle?
I saw an "S" and an "O," but I couldn't make out the rest.
Soyoung Hyesoon.
Who's that?
A homie of mine.
She's kinda like my only LA friend, but she, uh...
And that's her prescription?
Yeah.
She was...
She got Baker Acted a couple months ago.
She was walking barefoot from Crenshaw to Santa Monica.
They found her by the pier with glass in her feet.
She spent...
10 days at USC Medical.
They had her on fucking everything, but she saved the lithium for me.
I have to point out that's illegal.
Just...
For future reference, I'd be careful.
Careful?
I'm trying to survive.
This is me being careful.
Well, what if your friend needed the lithium for herself?
Seems like you have an ability to get people to go out on a limb for you.
I go out on a limb for people, too, dog.
Not saying it's a bad quality to have.
Then what are you trying to say?
That...
That's a good friend.
Yeah, we haven't talked in a while.
I miss her.
The lithium?
Eladio?
When you take it, how does it make you feel?
Well, it kinda just takes the edge off.
Turns the volume down.
And what specifically needs turning down?
I don't know.
Life?
Life shouldn't be something that you have to mute.
Look, I...
I know what you're gettin' at.
Look, life is...
it's life.
Right?
Like...
this house is big, right?
Eight bedrooms, a pool, a lawn, the whole thing, but no house is big enough.
Meaning?
All families have their shit.
It's a lot, living with the DeMarcos?
Why do you say it like that?
Like, there's a edge to your voice when you talk about them.
Is there?
Nah, you know what you doing.
E-Eladio, I'm afraid you're accusing me of something I don't quite understand.
Yo, I don't know if you're trying to play me, or if I'm...
You're not from Los Angeles.
So how did you come to work for the DeMarcos?
I used to work at a Thai restaurant in North Hollywood.
Before I dropped out of Cal State, I was fuckin'...
And was that before or after Sikander?
After.
Way after.
I was...
I was in a bad place.
And, uh...
you know, loneliness...
It has its own character in different cities.
I mean, Tampa was depressing, but it was familiar.
New York, there's like a romance to it.
But LA?
It's like living on the fucking moon.
You're not wrong.
I had a car.
I was living in a fuckin' nothing apartment in Van Nuys with a water stain on the ceiling that looked like the Wu-Tang logo.
I was barely going to class.
But I didn't miss work.
Mm.
It was the only thing that kept me grounded.
And I wasn't a good waiter, but Supames and her mom, they liked me.
They were nice to me.
Who's that?
Supames is the owner's daughter.
She's a little older than me.
Her mom, she would cook, and she didn't speak a ton of English, so Supames kinda ran the place.
That's where I met the DeMarcos.
They used to come in.
To a Thai restaurant in North Hollywood?
Yeah, yo.
All these wealthy foodies used to make the trek out to bum-fuck 'cause it made some pretentious list of some kind.
And 'cause the shit was good.
Mr.
DeMarco, he was kinda quiet.
I don't think he liked the food.
He has a sensitive stomach.
But Mrs.
DeMarco?
She would let her fuckin' hair down.
Yo, I'm talking, yo, she knew how to order, too.
Fucking Thai basil mojitos and shit.
Yo, White people are fuckin' wild, yo.
Mrs.
DeMarco, when she got really drunk, they had this little, I mean, nothing stereo system from RadioShack, and she'd start requesting songs.
And keep in mind, there are other people there.
Like, this is a hole-in-the-wall, folded-up-paper-plates- under-the-table-legs place.
But Supames, she'd roll with it.
And it was always Bon Jovi.
And I didn't know shit about Bon Jovi at the time, but she put me on.
You didn't know about Bon Jovi?
Well, I used to, uh, stay with my aunts in Queens every summer.
Mm.
And, for two weeks, they would send me to this camp in Bear Mountain.
And it was mainly I-ties and Greeks.
I-ties?
Yeah, like, fucking guidos and shit.
One day, they started singing this song.
Who?
You know, the campers.
But, like, all at the same time, yo.
And I'm sure you can appreciate w-when white people start performing any sort of ritual and you not hip to it.
I thought they were gonna sacrifice me to the fucking sun gods, yo.
I...
Me and this one Black kid looking at each other like, "Yo, what are we gonna do?"
These motherfuckers out here like, "Ho!
We're halfway there! "
Whoa!
Living on a prayer!"
Yo, shit was crazy.
But it wasn't until Mrs.
D requested the song that night that I heard it with instruments.
You know, I known it only as this a cappella Anglo-Saxon folk anthem.
I have a soft spot for Bon Jovi, so...
Oh no.
Like, low-key, that shit slaps.
Honestly.
Anyway...
Uh, sometimes, if the DeMarcos stay late, I stay and have a drink.
And, uh, me and Jeremy, we got along.
We're the same age.
Oh.
I had the idea he was younger somehow.
Did I say something wrong?
Nah...
I just feel bad about that.
What?
Well, because I gave you that impression.
He's a grown man.
They...
infantilize him.
His parents?
Yo!
Why do you always try to get me to say something bad about them?
I'm just going off the information you give me.
Nah.
Nah, you have an agenda.
Look...
everyone's got it hard.
Alright, these people, it's not easy being them.
They do infantilize him though, but then it's not just them.
I used to take Jeremy to camp, and these motherfuckers would just plop him down in front of the TV and put on "Peter Pan."
And I'm like, this dude has a physical disability!
It's not an intellectual anything!
He's...
he's a guy who's lonely!
A...
and it makes me sad.
All he does all day long is watch these long-ass compilations on YouTube of every love scene from every movie ever.
Like Keira Knightley and Andrew Lincoln in "Love Actually."
Mandy Moore and the other guy in "A Walk to Remember."
Leonardo DiCaprio in "Titanic," staring off into the ocean, and what's-her-face pulling up like, "Hello, Jack.
I changed my mind."
And the bagpipes or whatever start playing like...
That's not a guy, right, th-th-that's not a man who doesn't understand his situation.
That's a man who's lonely.
And do you find a...
fellow traveler in the loneliness?
Look, if I'm lonely, it's, it's my fault.
I don't think his loneliness is his fault.
So, you meet these people in a restaurant, and, suddenly, they take you home?
You make it sound weird.
She said I was good with him.
And what does that mean, "good with him"?
In a medical capacity?
I mean, I make sure he takes his meds, but no.
I'm not a qualified anything.
I don't have a license.
Really, you don't need a license to wipe someone's ass and put them in the bath.
But, it-it's more than that.
How so?
They-they let me into their home.
They bought me a red cashmere sweater for Christmas last year.
What?
Having a hard time picturing you in a red cashmere sweater.
Yeah.
Yeah, I mean, it was ridiculous.
I looked like the Kool-Aid Man.
I sold that shit for, like, 60 bucks at Buffalo Exchange, but...
it was sweet.
You spend Christmas with them?
Yeah.
I make hot chocolate like the way my aunts used to do.
You ever had Colombian hot chocolate?
No.
I don't know if you'd like it.
It's, like, it's thick.
It's like pudding almost.
It takes forever to make, and you get carpal tunnel doing it, but after you're done...
you put the mozzarella cheese in there and it soaks up all the chocolate...
Sounds kinda nasty, but, you know, the cheese doesn't have a flavor, so it just becomes this...
Why am I talking about hot chocolate?
Like...
My mom, she was cold.
Okay?
It was like she was scared of me or she resented me for not being the daughter that she always wanted.
And my dad?
Well, I never met him.
So, Mrs.
DeMarco, she can be hot-headed, of...
yeah, but...
Yo, you know what?
You don't know what you're doing.
You really fuckin' don't.
What am...
What am I doing, Eladio?
You're right about them!
Okay?
Is that what you wanna hear?
But you don't understand the consequences of you being right.
I have no agenda other than curiosity.
C'mon, man.
Ever...
Ever since I met you, you've been trying to get me to unpack my feelings about the DeMarcos, about Mrs.
DeMarco, about Jeremy, about my fuckin' job, and...
Is-is that wrong?
Yo, I'm not stupid!
Alright, I know what the fuck you've been hinting at, and you're right.
Of course you're right!
You're the one with the fuckin' PhD!
I'm not questioning your intelligence.
Never.
I defer to it, but you wield it recklessly.
Like, my life in this house is predicated on a fiction.
I know that.
I know I'm not their friend.
I'm the help.
I'm both indispensable and as replaceable as a fuckin' Hefty bag!
I'm a tool.
They didn't volunteer to pay for my therapy because they care about my mental health!
Fuck outta here!
They care whether I sleep or don't sleep, live or fucking die, insofar as it affects my ability to take care of their son!
My investment in him, my insistence that he continue to try to feed himself so that his muscles don't atrophy and his skills don't lapse, my attention to detail in regards to not letting him walk around like a asshole with unwiped mustard on his face, that's extra.
That's just me.
Right, because, yo, real shit?
If Jeremy didn't have this disease, he'd be my fuckin' enemy!
The guy's a fuckin' transphobic, Reagan Republican who just so happens to be in a wheelchair!
I have a cousin who was born just like him!
I mean, maybe not the exact same shit but close, and guess what?
She lived till about maybe 5 years old.
'Cause her parents were working in the fuckin' emerald mines in Boyacá, and didn't have enough money to pay for some fuckin' guy to live with them and do their parenting for them!
So, yeah!
When I think about that, it makes me shake!
Like, I'm shaking right now just talking to you about it!
But if I shake, I can't do my job, and if I can't do my job, I don't eat 'cause I'm not good at anything else!
So, just...
If you...
if you wanna talk about whatever, right?
From now on, you wanna talk about whatever, you wanna talk about my mom, my fucking ex, my...
I'm down!
But do me a favor, and let's just put an embargo on this particular topic, okay?
With all due respect!
That's a lot of anger, Eladio.
A lot of justifiable anger.
You've a right to your feelings, all of them.
And I hear you.
Do you know that I hear you?
Look...
We're not gonna solve white people today, we're not gonna solve capitalism today, but we can talk about the situation that stirs these feelings up in you.
I'm fucking good at my job, man.
I'm...
I'm so fucking good at it.
I can see that.
But these motherfuckers, yo.
I work for him!
I don't work for them!
I'm not...
I'm not the fuckin' pool boy.
I-I don't work for Comcast.
I'm not the f...
Twelve bucks an hour.
No benefits, no nothing.
When they offered to pay for my therapy, and I found out how much you charge, I thought maybe I should just...
Ask for the money.
So why didn't you?
'Cause I'm in pain.
What else was I gonna do?
The funny shit is, man, I could make more money working at Baskin fuckin' Robbins than I do here.
Why don't you?
Why...
Why do you stay?
Dude, what?
Because of Jeremy.
But you said if Jeremy weren't in a wheelchair, he'd be your enemy.
I know what I said, but that's not really fair.
He matters to me.
So it fuckin' matters to me how he's being perceived.
It's just you and me in here, Eladio.
There's no jury.
Which is even worse because he's not even here to defend himself!
And you riling me up, always trying to get me to say some shit about dude!
I'm not trying to get you to do anything.
You are!
Yes!
You are!
Like, and he's already got enough on his fuckin' plate, yo!
He doesn't need me going behind his back and fuckin'...
What happened?
I am so sorry.
We went over, and-and my next patient is here, and I...
Okay.
My bad.
No, no, no, no, no.
It's...
No.
No worries at all.
Um...
I pride myself on my sixth sense when it comes to session length, so this is very...
Do you have extra time later today to talk?
Dog, Mrs.
DeMarco is already out of pocket.
She ain't gonna pay for more time.
No, no.
It's not about the money.
I'll just...
check in later to make sure you're in a less emotional place.
Emotional?
I'm not emotional.
I'm good.
Just go.
You good.
Okay.
What?
Same time next week?
Why you being like that?
I'm not being like anything, Eladio.
If you change your mind, text me.
I didn't expect you to answer so late.
You told me to call you if I needed you, and I did.
You're right.
I apologize.
As your therapist, it's on me to delineate the boundaries that are appropriate.
You know, I think I might just need a referral.
In order to refer you to a psychiatrst, I need to know more.
I haven't slept in six days, yo.
Lithium.
It's the only way I ever get any sleep at all.
There's something at the heart of your sleeplessness.
Are you gonna take care of me?
You expecting someone else?
Sorry to wake you.
You know, I don't come here to sleep alone.
You know what I'm saying.
Mm-hmm.
Do you...
miss Philly?
There's nothing that city's got that I don't have here.
Don't worry.
I'm not just talking about you.
You know, it used to be that I could knock back a few drinks...
fall asleep, sleep the whole night without waking.
And now, I can...
I can get to sleep, but I...
You probably need to drink a little more.
Why do you do that?
Do what?
Encourage my drinking.
I don't encourage it.
I just don't judge it.
Well, maybe you should.
Why?
As Rita says, one drink is too many and a thousand isn't enough.
Babe, you're the smartest person I know.
And you know yourself better than anyone, so if you wanna have a drink, you should have a drink.
I'm not gonna tell you what to do.
Okay?
Humans are fucking fascinating.
They're all just super interesting, but you know...
I'm trying to, you know, get you in...
What?
Brooke: What?!
You look like you got some sun this weekend, Eladio.
Did you spend some time outside?
Jeremy had aquatic therapy.
Hey.
Where's the guy with all the words?
My Monday morning poet laureate?
He's tired.
Still not sleeping?
I'd hoped things had changed since I didn't hear from you this week.
Well, you...
you said it was inappropriate to call, so...
tried being a good boy.
This might be a good time for us to discuss your "ask" at the end of our session last week.
About our relationship?
The "mother" of it all?
Yeah...
I don't know if I wanna talk about that, you know?
You're embarrassed?
Dude, I-I know it's not normal.
No, it is normal, Eladio.
It's very normal.
Have you ever heard of the term "maternal transference"?
Let me guess.
Uh, some whacked-out Freudian shit, like... "
I wanna fuck my mom, and I guess you while I'm at it."
I wouldn't put it quite like that.
Yo, just 'cause I want, like, a hug sometimes, or to, whatever, like, lay my head in someone's lap, doesn't make me a sex-crazed psycho.
A-and maternal transference can be as simple as that.
A patient, especially one with your history of neglect, can sometimes idealize their therapist as a mother figure and want the comfort and guidance they didn't get.
Okay, so...
so can we just, like, do that?
Only if it's in the service of you learning how to have those needs met in other ways.
Yo, listen, I don't wanna waste your time.
What do you mean?
Last time, you talked about process, you talked about not focusing on results, and...
I feel you.
I do.
And I don't mean no disrespect at the fuck all, but...
I might not be the audience for all this.
Therapy doesn't have a target audience.
Everyone can benefit.
Sure.
But, all this talking about the past, the psychic wounds and shit, I haven't slept better since we talked last.
I slept worse.
In what ways?
Last four nights, I've had the same dream.
About the snow and the ash?
And even though I haven't thought about this guy in years, it was Sikander holding my hand.
That was a locked box, and you unlocked it.
And I can't afford that.
Maybe if this was long-term, and we were gonna do this for, like, years, then maybe.
N...
Who's to say we can't?
Dr.
Taylor, you and I both know the financial realities that bar that from being the case.
This is short-term.
And it's possible that what I need isn't a therapist.
It's a pharmacist.
'Cause the only thing that's ever helped me sleep at all is the lithium.
And if that sounds bad, I'm sorry, but that's my reality here.
Alright.
What?
Go get your pills.
What?
Go get your pills and bring them here so I can see them.
Why?
Because I asked you to.
Count them, and let me know how many you have left.
Casi como...
16.
That's one a day.
We have two weeks.
You know what that means?
What?
We have time.
Now, if you commit to the work, you have my word I will make an assessment and refer you to a psychiatrist before your pills run out.
Fine.
Alright.
Let's do this.
Yo.
Now first of all, I have to ask...
Oh...
Oh, Jesus.
Hold up, wait.
What kind of fucking Stanford Prison Experiment shit did I just sign up for?
Whose name is on the bottle?
I saw an "S" and an "O," but I couldn't make out the rest.
Soyoung Hyesoon.
Who's that?
A homie of mine.
She's kinda like my only LA friend, but she, uh...
And that's her prescription?
Yeah.
She was...
She got Baker Acted a couple months ago.
She was walking barefoot from Crenshaw to Santa Monica.
They found her by the pier with glass in her feet.
She spent...
10 days at USC Medical.
They had her on fucking everything, but she saved the lithium for me.
I have to point out that's illegal.
Just...
For future reference, I'd be careful.
Careful?
I'm trying to survive.
This is me being careful.
Well, what if your friend needed the lithium for herself?
Seems like you have an ability to get people to go out on a limb for you.
I go out on a limb for people, too, dog.
Not saying it's a bad quality to have.
Then what are you trying to say?
That...
That's a good friend.
Yeah, we haven't talked in a while.
I miss her.
The lithium?
Eladio?
When you take it, how does it make you feel?
Well, it kinda just takes the edge off.
Turns the volume down.
And what specifically needs turning down?
I don't know.
Life?
Life shouldn't be something that you have to mute.
Look, I...
I know what you're gettin' at.
Look, life is...
it's life.
Right?
Like...
this house is big, right?
Eight bedrooms, a pool, a lawn, the whole thing, but no house is big enough.
Meaning?
All families have their shit.
It's a lot, living with the DeMarcos?
Why do you say it like that?
Like, there's a edge to your voice when you talk about them.
Is there?
Nah, you know what you doing.
E-Eladio, I'm afraid you're accusing me of something I don't quite understand.
Yo, I don't know if you're trying to play me, or if I'm...
You're not from Los Angeles.
So how did you come to work for the DeMarcos?
I used to work at a Thai restaurant in North Hollywood.
Before I dropped out of Cal State, I was fuckin'...
And was that before or after Sikander?
After.
Way after.
I was...
I was in a bad place.
And, uh...
you know, loneliness...
It has its own character in different cities.
I mean, Tampa was depressing, but it was familiar.
New York, there's like a romance to it.
But LA?
It's like living on the fucking moon.
You're not wrong.
I had a car.
I was living in a fuckin' nothing apartment in Van Nuys with a water stain on the ceiling that looked like the Wu-Tang logo.
I was barely going to class.
But I didn't miss work.
Mm.
It was the only thing that kept me grounded.
And I wasn't a good waiter, but Supames and her mom, they liked me.
They were nice to me.
Who's that?
Supames is the owner's daughter.
She's a little older than me.
Her mom, she would cook, and she didn't speak a ton of English, so Supames kinda ran the place.
That's where I met the DeMarcos.
They used to come in.
To a Thai restaurant in North Hollywood?
Yeah, yo.
All these wealthy foodies used to make the trek out to bum-fuck 'cause it made some pretentious list of some kind.
And 'cause the shit was good.
Mr.
DeMarco, he was kinda quiet.
I don't think he liked the food.
He has a sensitive stomach.
But Mrs.
DeMarco?
She would let her fuckin' hair down.
Yo, I'm talking, yo, she knew how to order, too.
Fucking Thai basil mojitos and shit.
Yo, White people are fuckin' wild, yo.
Mrs.
DeMarco, when she got really drunk, they had this little, I mean, nothing stereo system from RadioShack, and she'd start requesting songs.
And keep in mind, there are other people there.
Like, this is a hole-in-the-wall, folded-up-paper-plates- under-the-table-legs place.
But Supames, she'd roll with it.
And it was always Bon Jovi.
And I didn't know shit about Bon Jovi at the time, but she put me on.
You didn't know about Bon Jovi?
Well, I used to, uh, stay with my aunts in Queens every summer.
Mm.
And, for two weeks, they would send me to this camp in Bear Mountain.
And it was mainly I-ties and Greeks.
I-ties?
Yeah, like, fucking guidos and shit.
One day, they started singing this song.
Who?
You know, the campers.
But, like, all at the same time, yo.
And I'm sure you can appreciate w-when white people start performing any sort of ritual and you not hip to it.
I thought they were gonna sacrifice me to the fucking sun gods, yo.
I...
Me and this one Black kid looking at each other like, "Yo, what are we gonna do?"
These motherfuckers out here like, "Ho!
We're halfway there! "
Whoa!
Living on a prayer!"
Yo, shit was crazy.
But it wasn't until Mrs.
D requested the song that night that I heard it with instruments.
You know, I known it only as this a cappella Anglo-Saxon folk anthem.
I have a soft spot for Bon Jovi, so...
Oh no.
Like, low-key, that shit slaps.
Honestly.
Anyway...
Uh, sometimes, if the DeMarcos stay late, I stay and have a drink.
And, uh, me and Jeremy, we got along.
We're the same age.
Oh.
I had the idea he was younger somehow.
Did I say something wrong?
Nah...
I just feel bad about that.
What?
Well, because I gave you that impression.
He's a grown man.
They...
infantilize him.
His parents?
Yo!
Why do you always try to get me to say something bad about them?
I'm just going off the information you give me.
Nah.
Nah, you have an agenda.
Look...
everyone's got it hard.
Alright, these people, it's not easy being them.
They do infantilize him though, but then it's not just them.
I used to take Jeremy to camp, and these motherfuckers would just plop him down in front of the TV and put on "Peter Pan."
And I'm like, this dude has a physical disability!
It's not an intellectual anything!
He's...
he's a guy who's lonely!
A...
and it makes me sad.
All he does all day long is watch these long-ass compilations on YouTube of every love scene from every movie ever.
Like Keira Knightley and Andrew Lincoln in "Love Actually."
Mandy Moore and the other guy in "A Walk to Remember."
Leonardo DiCaprio in "Titanic," staring off into the ocean, and what's-her-face pulling up like, "Hello, Jack.
I changed my mind."
And the bagpipes or whatever start playing like...
That's not a guy, right, th-th-that's not a man who doesn't understand his situation.
That's a man who's lonely.
And do you find a...
fellow traveler in the loneliness?
Look, if I'm lonely, it's, it's my fault.
I don't think his loneliness is his fault.
So, you meet these people in a restaurant, and, suddenly, they take you home?
You make it sound weird.
She said I was good with him.
And what does that mean, "good with him"?
In a medical capacity?
I mean, I make sure he takes his meds, but no.
I'm not a qualified anything.
I don't have a license.
Really, you don't need a license to wipe someone's ass and put them in the bath.
But, it-it's more than that.
How so?
They-they let me into their home.
They bought me a red cashmere sweater for Christmas last year.
What?
Having a hard time picturing you in a red cashmere sweater.
Yeah.
Yeah, I mean, it was ridiculous.
I looked like the Kool-Aid Man.
I sold that shit for, like, 60 bucks at Buffalo Exchange, but...
it was sweet.
You spend Christmas with them?
Yeah.
I make hot chocolate like the way my aunts used to do.
You ever had Colombian hot chocolate?
No.
I don't know if you'd like it.
It's, like, it's thick.
It's like pudding almost.
It takes forever to make, and you get carpal tunnel doing it, but after you're done...
you put the mozzarella cheese in there and it soaks up all the chocolate...
Sounds kinda nasty, but, you know, the cheese doesn't have a flavor, so it just becomes this...
Why am I talking about hot chocolate?
Like...
My mom, she was cold.
Okay?
It was like she was scared of me or she resented me for not being the daughter that she always wanted.
And my dad?
Well, I never met him.
So, Mrs.
DeMarco, she can be hot-headed, of...
yeah, but...
Yo, you know what?
You don't know what you're doing.
You really fuckin' don't.
What am...
What am I doing, Eladio?
You're right about them!
Okay?
Is that what you wanna hear?
But you don't understand the consequences of you being right.
I have no agenda other than curiosity.
C'mon, man.
Ever...
Ever since I met you, you've been trying to get me to unpack my feelings about the DeMarcos, about Mrs.
DeMarco, about Jeremy, about my fuckin' job, and...
Is-is that wrong?
Yo, I'm not stupid!
Alright, I know what the fuck you've been hinting at, and you're right.
Of course you're right!
You're the one with the fuckin' PhD!
I'm not questioning your intelligence.
Never.
I defer to it, but you wield it recklessly.
Like, my life in this house is predicated on a fiction.
I know that.
I know I'm not their friend.
I'm the help.
I'm both indispensable and as replaceable as a fuckin' Hefty bag!
I'm a tool.
They didn't volunteer to pay for my therapy because they care about my mental health!
Fuck outta here!
They care whether I sleep or don't sleep, live or fucking die, insofar as it affects my ability to take care of their son!
My investment in him, my insistence that he continue to try to feed himself so that his muscles don't atrophy and his skills don't lapse, my attention to detail in regards to not letting him walk around like a asshole with unwiped mustard on his face, that's extra.
That's just me.
Right, because, yo, real shit?
If Jeremy didn't have this disease, he'd be my fuckin' enemy!
The guy's a fuckin' transphobic, Reagan Republican who just so happens to be in a wheelchair!
I have a cousin who was born just like him!
I mean, maybe not the exact same shit but close, and guess what?
She lived till about maybe 5 years old.
'Cause her parents were working in the fuckin' emerald mines in Boyacá, and didn't have enough money to pay for some fuckin' guy to live with them and do their parenting for them!
So, yeah!
When I think about that, it makes me shake!
Like, I'm shaking right now just talking to you about it!
But if I shake, I can't do my job, and if I can't do my job, I don't eat 'cause I'm not good at anything else!
So, just...
If you...
if you wanna talk about whatever, right?
From now on, you wanna talk about whatever, you wanna talk about my mom, my fucking ex, my...
I'm down!
But do me a favor, and let's just put an embargo on this particular topic, okay?
With all due respect!
That's a lot of anger, Eladio.
A lot of justifiable anger.
You've a right to your feelings, all of them.
And I hear you.
Do you know that I hear you?
Look...
We're not gonna solve white people today, we're not gonna solve capitalism today, but we can talk about the situation that stirs these feelings up in you.
I'm fucking good at my job, man.
I'm...
I'm so fucking good at it.
I can see that.
But these motherfuckers, yo.
I work for him!
I don't work for them!
I'm not...
I'm not the fuckin' pool boy.
I-I don't work for Comcast.
I'm not the f...
Twelve bucks an hour.
No benefits, no nothing.
When they offered to pay for my therapy, and I found out how much you charge, I thought maybe I should just...
Ask for the money.
So why didn't you?
'Cause I'm in pain.
What else was I gonna do?
The funny shit is, man, I could make more money working at Baskin fuckin' Robbins than I do here.
Why don't you?
Why...
Why do you stay?
Dude, what?
Because of Jeremy.
But you said if Jeremy weren't in a wheelchair, he'd be your enemy.
I know what I said, but that's not really fair.
He matters to me.
So it fuckin' matters to me how he's being perceived.
It's just you and me in here, Eladio.
There's no jury.
Which is even worse because he's not even here to defend himself!
And you riling me up, always trying to get me to say some shit about dude!
I'm not trying to get you to do anything.
You are!
Yes!
You are!
Like, and he's already got enough on his fuckin' plate, yo!
He doesn't need me going behind his back and fuckin'...
What happened?
I am so sorry.
We went over, and-and my next patient is here, and I...
Okay.
My bad.
No, no, no, no, no.
It's...
No.
No worries at all.
Um...
I pride myself on my sixth sense when it comes to session length, so this is very...
Do you have extra time later today to talk?
Dog, Mrs.
DeMarco is already out of pocket.
She ain't gonna pay for more time.
No, no.
It's not about the money.
I'll just...
check in later to make sure you're in a less emotional place.
Emotional?
I'm not emotional.
I'm good.
Just go.
You good.
Okay.
What?
Same time next week?
Why you being like that?
I'm not being like anything, Eladio.
If you change your mind, text me.