Metaphysical Therapy

Mother was a Freudian psychiatrist.
Every time she tried to analyze me, she’d say “Tell me about your mother.”
And I’d say “Um, mom? That’s you, stupid!”
She’d nod. And then I’d be sent to bed without dinner.
Later, after I busted my knee and had surgery, I ended up with a metaphysical therapist.
Instead of building strength in my knee with exercise, we debated the nature of all existence and if it was still my knee or something entirely new.
Not only did I end up totally confused, the damn thing still hurts like a son of a bitch.