"Am I the Problem?"

Today's session: Donna

The Grumpy Therapist: Episode 2: “Am I the Problem?”

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(A short exchange from the couch)

Donna:
“Am I the problem or is it my mother?”

The Grumpy Therapist:
"Listen, Donna. Mothers are like lottery tickets — there’s a winner every ten-thousand or so. Odds are, you just pulled a scratcher with mold on it."

sips lukewarm espresso, doesn’t flinch

"And also — stop telling her everything. She doesn’t need to know you’re on a new diet. She especially doesn’t need to know that you dug cheese out of the garbage bin at 2 a.m. like a guilt-ridden raccoon. That’s not a bonding moment, Donna. That’s a red flag. For you."

Donna:
"But I thought honesty was—"

The Grumpy Therapist:
"No. Not like that. That kind of honesty belongs to whatever set of gods you believe in and your raccoon brethren. Not your mother. You need boundaries. And probably a padlock on the bin."

Donna:
"So...I am the problem?"

The Grumpy Therapist:
"Yes. But so is she. We’ve been over this.

Any mother who shops for her 40-year-old daughter’s underwear — and intentionally buys the wrong size so she can say, ‘Oh...I thought you were smaller than that’ — clearly lacks boundaries. And decency.

And the breakdowns she has every time you go out of town? Donna, that’s not nurturing. That’s codependency with a scrapbook."

takes another sip of her espresso, now cold

"She keeps acting like you’re twelve and she’s the only thing standing between you and a vending machine. You’re not a child. You’re a woman with a mortgage and a gluten sensitivity. Stop letting her run the show."

Donna:
"So, you're saying I need boundaries? Like the kind when Teresa flipped a table over on Real Housewives?"

The Grumpy Therapist:
"Yes, Donna. Boundaries. Like fences, but for emotions. You don’t need to flip the table — you just need to stop inviting everyone to sit at it.”

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Donna (nodding slowly, talking under her breath):
“Cancel tomorrow’s lunch with mom…again.” She pulls out her phone, adds ‘padlock’ to the shopping list, and makes a note to Google, “how long can cheese be out of the fridge before it goes bad?”

(Curtain closes. She takes the last sip of cold espresso.)

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The Grumpy Therapist:

A fictional series about a younger therapist who’s lost the rose-colored glasses but still believes in the work. She’s honest, a little sharp, and probably over-caffeinated, but she’s here, saying the quiet parts out loud. If dry humor, emotional truth, and slightly unhinged advice sound like your thing…stick around. She’ll be back with more hot takes and lukewarm coffee.

Disclaimer: This fictional exchange is intended for entertainment and reflection — not as a substitute for professional mental health care. While it contains emotional truths and therapeutic themes, it is not actual therapy. If you're struggling, please reach out to a licensed clinician. Preferably one who won’t prescribe floor naps or padlocks for the garbage bin, unless clinically justified.