The lady at the store said it has illustrations
of all the procedures that cosmetology students have to master
before they earn their license.
Cold waves. Those are really hard.
Well, now you can learn how to do them.
It's good to have a dream, Augusten.
Dreams get you through the hard times.
What's your dream?
Me?
I was never fancy enough to have one of those.
I was always too busy.
Working.
Well, so the doctor could go to school and...
No.
Then the kids came and...
Raising a family keeps you on the run and...
Maybe that was your dream.
To have a family.
Yes.
That was a dream.
It's a good one to have.
Hello?
Fern, it's me.
Why can't we do it?
Get out.
I miss you.
I miss the smell of you.
Who is it?
I'm not interested in what you're selling.
Please don't call here again.
Shit!
Shit! It's all shit!
I'm digging this new look. I think you look much better.
Oh, my fucking hair! Oh, my God!
That was funny.
You should be laughing.
You know what, Augusten?
I'm not gonna throw you a pity party.
So fucking just get over yourself.
Fuck you, Natalie. You don't know what it's like to be sent away.
You're right, I don't.
And you don't know what it's like to have a boyfriend that's just using you!
Lucky me.
Who's Terrence Maxwell, Natalie?
I've never heard of him.
Tell me who he is.
- Tell me who he is. - Shut up.
- It kills you, doesn't it? - Shut up.
- Let it out! - Shut up.
- Tell me who he is, Natalie! - Shut up.
Tell me so I don't feel so alone!
He was the only one I ever loved and he doesn't want me anymore!
Do you feel better?
A little bit.
How'd you meet him?
Terrence started seeing my dad after his mom died.
She left him everything.
He was 41 when I was 13.
He told me I was pretty.
And he made me believe it.
One day he broke my collar bone
and I had to hitchhike to the emergency room,
and I passed out on the side of the road and somebody found me.
My dad told him that he would press charges and that he would go to jail,
unless he donated money to my college fund.
And he did.
$75,000.
That's so great.
- So, if you just apply... - My dad spent it.
Every penny.
So that the IRS wouldn't take this house.
So I do know what it's like, Augusten,
to love somebody who doesn't deserve it.
Because they're all you have.
God, I hate my life.
I hate this kitchen.
I need high ceilings.
Me too.
Let's get rid of it, then.
Let's take down the ceiling.
Deirdre, I need to talk to you.
I'm a fuckup and it's your fault!
That's right, Neil, blame your father for your inability to focus.
Direct all that rage at me if it makes you feel better.
I can't focus because of the voices!
I see you for what you are.
Yeah? Camera never lies, see?
My parents have given you thousands of dollars and I'm still sick!
You haven't helped me get better! You know what I do!
And you haven't helped me get better!
Deirdre?
Did you hear me?
Hello, Agnes.
Why am I here?
Well, you have an appointment. Your regular 2:00.
Yes. Why are you here?
Because I want you to stop seeing my husband.
You're right, Neil, you're right. I've done nothing, apparently.
I've never pulled any strings,
gotten you a scholarship to the University of Rochester
to pursue your photographic interests. Absolutely nothing.
You just wanted to get rid of me.
I don't wanna get rid of Augusten. He's part of the family now.
It's just you. I just need you to go.
But then I'd miss my therapy. I need Dr. Finch.
No, I need Dr. Finch!
I'm not as pretty as you and I don't have your talent.
All I have is this family. And this family doesn't work without him.
Why won't you let me live in the house and be a part of this family?
Because I am the patriarch, and when the patriarch says jump, you jump, God damn it!
You don't cooperate, Neil, and for that you're punished.
That's not why you won't let me live in this house.
You won't let me 'cause you're afraid of me, aren't you?
Of what I could do to you in the middle of the night while you're sleeping?
You're afraid of my anger, aren't you, Doctor?
Our time is up, Neil.
I believe we've made a breakthrough today.
Really?
I am to see the doctor now.
Hello, Neil.
Hello, Mrs. Burroughs, you look wonderful.
Oh, thank you. How's my son?
He's just great.
- Will you be kind to him? - I will.
That's why I'm blocked, Dr. Finch, I'm sure of it.
You're not blocked because of Fern, Deirdre.
You're constipated creatively because of the rage you are not expressing.
Scream, Deirdre, scream. Express the pain.
Fern has ceased to be a suitable companion, Deirdre.
You need someone who worships you, who will feed your talent.
I have just the candidate.
Deirdre, I'd like to introduce you to Dorothy Ambrose, my 3:00.
Dorothy is creative like you. She paints her fingernails to match her mood.
What color are we today, Dorothy?
Shell pink. I've had a nice day.
Dorothy has a trust fund.
It was established by her father after he showed her his penis in a rowboat.
I've always wanted a daughter.
The ceiling was crushing us.
So we made a skylight.
I think it brings a much-needed sense of humor to the kitchen.
Vienna sausage. I've been looking for these.
I'll get it.
Don't touch my sausage.
- Dr. Finch? - Yes.
Michael Shephard, IRS.
Where will I treat the people who need me?
How will I provide for my family?
You got an extension, Dad.
Six weeks. After six weeks they take the house.
We'll pray. God will help us.
And when God turns a deaf ear we can all just live in the car,
because at least that's paid for.
You are a terrible daughter.
Well, fuck you, kiss-ass.
Just remember,
Daddy's like a great ocean liner.
If he goes down, he's taking a lot of people with him.
Stop.
- Damn it, Bookman! - What?
Something's not right.
It's your hair. It lacks proper body.
That's because you've been pulling at it for two hours.
Well, I wouldn't have to pull at it if it wasn't so naturally hideous.
I'm not complaining. I love it.
I love everything you touch.
Maybe you could work on my mustache.
No, this is useless. Natalie, come here, let me try on you.
No, no. Fuck that. Forget it. I am through being your guinea pig.
Look, my hair's coming out in fistfuls.
Stop scratching at it.
You look like you have Down syndrome.
Hope.
Well, look, one of you is gonna have to help me, okay?
I don't get into beauty school unless I master the cold wave.
Guess you're stuck with me, jocko.
Being in love is fantastic, Hope. You should try it.
I'd hardly call you an expert.
Are you saying my relationship with Augusten isn't real love?
I'm saying your relationship with Augusten
is not mature love, no.
Bullshit!
Neil, if you're not man enough to handle the truth,
then maybe you should not be with a child.
I'm not a child, Hope.
You're right, Augusten, you're not. I'm sorry, you're very mature.
It's just that I was speaking of the love you have when you're older. Mature love.
And what do you, Miss Iceberg, know about mature love?
When was the last time you had anything in your twat besides a tampon?
That is the fucking truth.
All right, Bookman, that's enough!
I'm certainly not gonna listen to you when you're talking like a teenage boy!
What's in this? I'm starving.
Oh, this and that. My secret ingredient.
Would you like to try?
What's the secret ingredient?
Freud.
Freud's dead, Hope. You buried her.
I heard her calling me. She wanted me to dig her up.
She asked to be reincarnated as a stew.
Oh, my God.
Oh, my God. Oh, my God!
You fucking lunatic! I knew you were insane!
I don't eat pussy. Psycho.
Come on, Augusten, let's go.
I want my beads back, Hope.
I was just kidding, you jerks!
Got some of my anger out.
Today, we are going to explore sense memory.
I'd like everybody to take their blade of grass
and stroke their cheeks with their eyes closed.
Other senses are heightened when the eyes are closed.
It's very soothing, isn't it?
All right.
Neil, I believe you have a poem you'd like to read today.
Yes.
Deirdre, I'm not sure I feel comfortable with a man in our safe space.
I guess, emotionally.
I just need time to process this.
Joan, Neil is a beautiful and sensitive poet.
He's part of my family
and we are going to welcome him today with open arms and open ears.
Okay, fine.
But he's a man.
Joan, what you need to focus on is not the presence of a man in this room,
but the lack of your mother's presence in your poetry.
Neil.
"The Angry Nun."
By Neil Bookman.
"Bitch!
"Whore of Jesus!
"Dressed in black, you do not bleed like a woman should bleed between the legs!
"But with your ruler, your crucifix of hatred, you strike my tender flesh!
"I bleed for you!
"Oh, Mother."
And then I ran out of ink.
Good anger. It ended exactly at the right moment.
Augusten, would you make me some iced tea?
My new medicine makes my throat so dry.
Baby, I'll get it. I got it.
All right, all right, Neil. Let's break it down. Let's break it down for Neil.
Look, I always get my mom something to drink when she works. Okay?
- That's our thing. - Your mother is my thing now.
Are we having a stare-down contest?
Yeah.
What do you want? What do you want? Money?
Here's 50 bucks. Go chase the ice-cream truck.
Leave!
You think this whole thing is funny, don't you?
You look at my mom's craziness as something to entertain you!
You are so mundane. Your mother is an artist.
If you want Hamburger Helper, cupcake, you need to find yourself another mother.
Everyone! Come quickly!
Wake up! Wake up!
A miracle!
A miracle! A miracle has occurred!
What are you looking at?
Dad's morning shit.
See? See how the tip of the coil is breaking out of the surface of the water?
Holy Father.
Doctor.
Let me draw you a nice bath.
Agnes.
Go get a shoehorn. A shoehorn, Agnes.
But what does it mean, Dad?
It means our financial situation is turning round.
It means things are looking upward, literally.
The shit is pointing out of the pot, towards heaven, to God.
My turd is a direct communication from the Holy Father.
No, no, no, no, children. No. Laugh. Laugh.
God is. He is the funniest man in the universe.
Agnes, I want you to carefully remove this, take it outside and let it dry in the sun.
We're starting a shrine, Agnes, a shrine.
Hope, let's prepare.
Now I'll never get into Vassar.
Agnes?
Somebody's gotta stay on top of things in this house.
I am just trying to hold it all together.
I need to ask you something.
He's fine. The doctor will be fine.
He's just overextended.
- That's not what I wanted to ask you. - What do you want, Augusten?
I want you to make me Hamburger Helper.
So there it was at last, the awful truth.
Thank you.
Unlike my mom, I guess I had finally tapped into my subconscious.
Journal, I feel doomed. I should be getting ready for college.
Instead, I'm in my mother's psychiatrist's house
lying on a used twin bed with pee stains on it.
How did my life take such a dismal turn? What did I do wrong along the way?
I turned 15 today.
My parents used to make such a big deal out of my birthdays, out of all the holidays.
I want it to be like it used to be, when I had a family that tried to love each other.
Where nobody thought that God was talking through their shit.
I want a curfew.
I want to be grounded for sleeping with a 35-year-old schizophrenic.
I want rules and boundaries,
because what I've learned is that without them
all life is, is a series of surprises.
Surprise!
We gotcha!
Surprise.
We gotcha! And you didn't see it coming. No, you didn't.
Smile.
Augusten, what's wrong?
He's just overcome, that's all.
I'll go get the matches.
This is good.
Deirdre?
Deirdre, come along now.
I'm not going to any goddamn hospital!
Now, Deirdre, it's just for observation.
- This is bullshit! - Dorothy!
I will not be observed!
Deirdre, I have arranged a very, very nice retreat for you in Vermont.
But if you don't open the door, we will have to get the police.
No, don't you call the police! Why you gotta go to call the pigs?
Oh, please! Oh, that's right, you think anyone that's not a lesbian is a pig!
- You're all pigs! - Oh, you fucking selfish bitch!
Filthy, stinking pigs! You just wanna hurt her!
Will you stop? Please!
You stop! You stop!
Oh, please, why don't you go out and write your fucking poetry?
You don't need a mother! You need an exorcist!
Oh, you need a fucking bone up your ass, that's what you need!
And you'd like that, you'd like that!
Now.
- No, no. - Shit, shit.
We love you.
No! No!
No, let me go!
Please let me go!
Let me go!
Thank you.
Oh, this is too much.
Thank you so much.
"Grief.
"The angels are gone.
"For weeks I searched for them
"and took the precise measurements of each room,
"as if the house had grown smaller in my grief."
Not good enough. Boring. Repetitive.
Journal, good news.
After only a week of observation, my mother has been released from the loony bin.
Dr. Finch assures me she's doing well,
and is writing a masterpiece that will finally get her on The Merv Griffin Show.
I wish I had that kind of discipline.
Watch out. That's how he gets you to fall in love with him.
Our first date was at the movies. My Fair Lady.
I was so nervous my palms were sweaty.
But Norman's hands were so dry.
I found out later it was from psoriasis.
He reached for my hand in the dark and that was it.
Hello, Norman.
Hello, Deirdre. You look well.
I'm sorry, Suzanne, this is my ex-wife, Deirdre.
And, Deirdre, this is my fiancee, Suzanne.
Hello.
It's nice to meet you. I've heard so much about you.
I've heard nothing about you.
I open up my mailbox every day,
hoping to get a child support check from this deadbeat,
but all I get is my own voice echoing back at me.
You drank our family's money away.
I don't drink anymore, Deirdre. I haven't had a drink in three years.
Excuse me, could you get him a medal?
I want my money!
I sent your money to that goddamn Svengali,
and his lawyer sent me a paper signed by you giving him power of attorney.
No. I didn't approve that.
Dr. Finch wouldn't do that.
Did I tell you?
What? Did you tell her what? What did he tell you about me, Suzie Q?
That I was a little housewife with a stupid hobby?
Well, that hobby has become quite lucrative, thank you very much.
I was just published in Yankee Magazine.
Ma'am, I'm gonna have to ask you to quiet down and leave.
What else did he tell you about me? That I was crazy?
He's the crazy one. And he's a goddamn bastard.
He doesn't even see his own son!
He's tried. From what I hear, neither do you, Deirdre.
Shut up, you cunt!
All right, that's it. Let's go.
Get your hands off me!
I'm leaving here.
I need a peaceful environment to do my writing in.
Could you get me a towel, please?
Jesus. Fuck.
- Are you wet? Did you get wet? - I'm fine.
Okay.
Like a sheep or a dog that can predict an earthquake,
I've always been able to sense when my mother is about to go crazy.
Her eyes burn electric. Her body gives off a metallic scent.
She stops sleeping and starts developing a taste for certain foods
like toothpaste sandwiches.
But journal, I think the worst is over. I really do.
Hospitals make you better. My mother is going to get better.
Dorothy's gone. She took everything.
I don't wanna be alone so you're moving back in with me.
She's gone?
Just you and me, baby. Come here.
Augusten, hug back.
Could you make me some tea, sweetheart?
Sure.
Did I tell you I had a poem accepted by Yankee Magazine?
Really?
That's great.
Mom, what are you doing?
Oh, I'm decoupaging my rejection letters on top of the table here.
Why?
Well, I want a daily reminder of my artistic journey when I become famous.
This'll keep me humble.
Mom, why did you mix your pills with Dorothy's medicine?
Dr. Finch says that's what made you sick.
I'd rather not talk about that right now.
This whole episode's been very intense for me.
But I do believe that may have been my last psychotic episode.
I think I finally broke through to my creative unconscious.
Did Dorothy take all the cups, too?
She's such a bitch.
Oh, no, no. They're out back on the lawn.
What the fuck have you been up to?
Giving my worldly possessions a moon bath.
Anything the doctor's touched, anything he's looked at,
needs to be sterilized by the night.
I can't believe I just trusted you.
You have to trust me. I'm your mother.
And honestly, Augusten, I worry about you.
I disapprove of your choices.
I haven't had a choice!
You did when you wrote this, didn't you?
- You read my journal? - Don't try and compete with me, Augusten.
If you move back in with me, I won't allow it.
You'll only get hurt.
When I become a very famous woman,
they'll write that I had a son who is a writer, too,
who doesn't compare to my brilliance. I want more for you than that.
Did you mix your pills again?
Are you judging me?
Where are you going?
Are you gonna call the doctor? That bastard! He took my money!
I won't be taken advantage of again. Is that clear?
What are you doing in there?
Let me in!
Are you calling the doctor?
Neighbors reporting domestic disturbance...
- Good evening, ma'am... - Get off of my property!
Don't you dare tell me what to do, not ever! You understand me?
- Ma'am, you need to calm down... - Fuck you!
I will not be stifled in my own home!
- Hope, Hope. It's Augusten. - You are the goddamn devil! You are a Nazi!
My mom's gone crazy again and I need your help.
We need Dad.
Finch gave her a sedative.
I like watching her sleep.
She looks like she's dead.
Maybe she's finally at peace.
None of us'll ever be at peace,
until Finch and every bad seed spawned from Finch
is dead.
You sound crazy.
Come on, let's go to bed.
Neil?
- What are you doing, son? - Shut up!
I'm not your son!
What in the hell is going on?
It's all right.
Neil.
Neil!
- Where did he go? - Away.
Why don't we ever have any relish in this house?
What happened?
It was a family situation. It's been handled.
Natalie, you have to tell me, okay?
Where did Bookman go?
Where the fuck are you?
I needed to get away.
My father's very upset with you.
He feels like you're taking your mother's side in this and he needs your support
because he wants to have her committed for good to a hospital.
I don't think she needs to be committed.
- Look, where are you? We'll come get you. - Okay.
Do you have a pen?
Yeah.
Okay, tell me where you are.
I'll tell you where I'll be tomorrow at noon.
The bus station.
I'm going to New York.
You're coming with me.
We gotta get away from them, Nat.
Your family, my mother.
It's the only way that we can have a normal life.
What's going on?
What are we gonna do in New York, Augusten?
Our only skills are restraining psychotics.
I'll write.
And I'll get a job so you can go to school.
I'll support us.
I'm afraid, Augusten.
Me, too.
But we can do this.
We have to.
Did a woman come in here by herself?
Can I take your order?
Yes, I'd like a TaB
and a slice of key lime pie.
Oh, nothing for me, thanks.
Aren't you hungry? You look skinny.
You really should eat something.
Don't pull that maternal crap with me now, Mom.
It's too late for that.
No, it's not too late.
We can find a house together where we both can write.
We can start over.
I am starting over.
In New York.
Really? Well, how are you gonna make that work, Augusten?
You've no formal education,
no money, no furniture, no friends.
Yeah, well, could be worse.
Could be going to a prom.
Why did you come here then?
To say goodbye to you.
Did you pack enough warm clothes?
Yeah.
I'm gonna be okay.
Natalie's not coming.
I told her I'd deal with you.
Don't try to stop me, Agnes.
I'm going.
I'm gonna miss you.
I'll miss you, too.
You're the best son a mom could ever want.
You need to know that.
Oh, my God.
Agnes, there's a lot of money in here.
Penny here, a dime there.
It adds up.
The doctor doesn't know I have it, of course. No one does.
You know, this morning the IRS came again
and I almost gave it to them.
And then I thought, no.
For once in my life I'm going to invest wisely.
When you write a book, you send me a copy.
Goodbye, my sweet boy.
Agnes?
What are you gonna do now?
I don't know.
Maybe I'll take down the Christmas tree.