Married to the Job
"I can't believe they don't care!" This was Brenda's third session with me, and the same plaintive cry had echoed through my office in our two prior meetings. "I can't believe they'd do this. I feel like there's nothing to live for."
Thirty-five-year-old Brenda sat hunched over in the chair opposite mine. Tears streamed down her face; her eyes were red, swollen; her long blond hair appeared matted in places. She stared out, looking somewhere above my right shoulder. It seemed my function was to bear witness to the tragedy that had unexpectedly seized her and transformed her life into a barren, thinglike...