She always lived a life of passion, but now, for no reason at all, nothing mattered. She waited at eternity’s bus stop as if for Godot. Everything she used to love turned to sawdust at her feet. Books, art, film, nature, walking, the ocean, talking to other people, bothering to get out of bed. None of it worth the effort. She preferred to curl up with her cats, to watch old reruns of Law and Order, where crooks were caught and the world made sense. She barely dragged herself out to buy groceries after the weekly shower. Not to mention going to work, feigning listening to other people’s problems as a therapist, something she’d done for so many years she could do it in her sleep and often did. As a last resort, she decided to consult the local rabbi. She had a lengthy meeting with him, describing her loss of faith, faking her interest in patients, wondering if that could be the source of this alienation from life.
He stared out the window then, finally, after a long silence, looked at her and said, “Have you considered psychotherapy?”