Bare Skin

I'm here for my eight o'clock.

- Your first name? - Lenny.

I know, doctor patient romance is forbidden, but

what's the etiquette on patient cute receptionist?

It's frowned upon.

Up the stairs to the right.

I don't know.

Hey, you need a name tag!

My demons are my own.

My demons are my own.

How long have you been seeing Dr. Hedonia?

- I've been seeing the doctor for about a year.

First patient.

For this uh...

program that is.

I just started.

Alright.

Is your incident recent?

- Last fall. - Not even a scar.

Still a wound.

Paroxetine?

Venlafaxine.

You're on that first mountain.

It's not the tallest,

but it's the hardest one to conquer.

Pills are a steady rope and harness,

but being physical, that's some good hiking boots.

Physical?

You know, get into a fight.

Even get your ass kicked.

Maybe even a one night stand.

I, I, I don't wanna fight.

Then you definitely need to.

At least I'm not the last.

That's an interesting name.

I'll take it as a compliment.

Oh, please do.

Dr. Hedonia says to make a new friend each day.

Break the cycle.

Lenny: Maybe that's why we are here.

To see how each of us does it.

Dev: We're here because we're fucked up.

Lenny: What about you, ginger?

Are you fucked up?

I see we're short a shipmate.

Unfortunately, this is the only room large enough for group.

Let's start with a present centered exercise

and make use of the tardiness.

Has anyone experienced turmoil lately?

Don't look at me, Doc.

Dev?

I've experienced frustration.

What caused the frustration?

I was being ignored.

- And what was your core emotion?

Anger.

- What was the reason for your anger?

Because I was ignored.

I was at the bar and this guy was ignoring me.

What triggered you?

- I felt marginalized. - Unworthy?

Alone.

I feel alone a lot now.

That's why I went to the bar in the first place.

- Good. And what was your action?

- I, I smashed a beer bottle over their head.

- Okay. An overcompensation for a feeling of inadequacy.

I, I didn't want to hurt him.

He, he, he just, he just wasn't listening.

Close your eyes, Dev.

Take a breath.

Now, imagine a wooden table in front of you.

On this table are four mallets.

Mallets of all different sizes.

On the far right is a massive circus mallet.

One that you would use to swing in an attempt

to hit a ball and win a comedically large prize.

The mallets lay in ascending order. On the left

is a tiny mallet built for a mouse.

Pick each up and feel its weight.

Select the mallet that you chose to solve this situation.

Do you have it in your hand, Dev?

Yes. It feels good.

- This mallet is too heavy, but it's not the first time.

Keep the mallet up, Dev.

Remember the smashed bottle over their head.

Repeat this memory in your mind.

The swinging of the bottle, the shattering sound

of the glass and the spilling of the blood.

The swinging of the bottle, the shattering sound

of the glass and the spilling of the blood.

The swinging of the bottle, the shattering sound

of the glass and the spilling of the blood.

The swinging of the bottle, the shattering sound of glass

and the spilling of the blood.

It's heavy.

- If it's heavy why did you use such a large mallet?

I was scared.

- You were scared. Is it okay to be scared Dev?

It's okay to be scared.

- You don't have to carry this weight.

This is not the mallet you should use.

You reacted via past experiences,

not in the present moment in the bar.

That's trauma.

Pick a smaller mallet.

Really feel its weight in your hand.

Isn't it still powerful?

Could you use that mallet to solve problems?

Open your eyes, Dev.

Hmm.

Welcome Oday.

We are all here.

And now that we're here, we can help each other.

You have the right to feel anxious.

Sharing in a group setting isn't easy.

It's vulnerable,

but you'll have to take the leap of trust

with each other just as you learned to trust me

during our one-on-one sessions.

Because you are all bound by the limits

of legal confidentiality.

How are we sleeping? Are we well rested today?

I wouldn't call it sleeping.

A lot of nightmares.

Be vigilant in your sleep plans and goals.

Sleep deprivation is detrimental

to your self care.

Self care is how you regrasp the reins of your minds.

- I'm following the plans and sleeping better.

Thank you, Dev.

A few rules before we start.

Rule number one, stay in your seat.

Group therapy can be challenging,

which leads to rule number two.

No touching, be it combative or comforting.

There will be time for that.

Here we use our words to express our emotions.

Rule three, group therapy functions as a family unit,

sharing and listening.

Rule four, do not communicate

outside of group.

The work needs to be done here.

Rule five, anonymity. First names only.

Protecting identities is important,

especially for this group.

Final rule, which you all know, cell phones.

Put them in the basket. And put them on silent.

No interruptions. We are here to work.

It's okay. When you're ready.

What? I don't have a phone.

- Everybody has a phone. - I don't.

Dr. Hedonia: Lenny doesn't do well with possessions.

October, do you trust me?

I do.

Oday?

Yes.

- If I trust everyone in this room,

can we momentarily extend our faith to each other?

Dev: I don't wanna be afraid anymore.

Who wants to share first?

Ginger hadn't said shit since she came in.

Maybe she should go first.

Phone: I am not going first.

Trauma is emotional,

but for some it is also physical causing limitation.

I guess that makes me the asshole of the group. Fine.

I'll go first. Where do I start?

Why don't you start with who you were before?

Alright.

I worked in an office.

I was living the American dream, well

pursuing it at least. I wanted to get a

piece of that pie, a house.

It was mine. And no matter what happened,

that was my slice.

That was my dream.

And inside was a vault of all the possessions that defined

who I was.

From the wallpaper to the furniture,

to the paintings.

It was a collection of household erotica

that set me into a state of copacetic bliss.

A bubble of comfort that,

fed a thought, that I could

and did control my world.

I was lie.

I'd always come home at the same time each night.

But that night,

it was the last night

and my heart sank.

As I stood there

and watched my house burn.

The flames overwhelmed everything I ever known.

The sense of loss

and pain that should have spread through every fiber