Biotherapy Fails To Ease Anxiety in Green Plant

The following is a transcript of a recent conversation between a biotherapist and a new patient (a green plant suffering from increasingly debilitating anxiety about photosynthesis). The conversation took place in the biotherapist’s warmly designed, soothingly decorated office. 

Biotherapist:
(In an excessively kind and gentle voice) Why don’t you begin wherever it’s most comfortable.

Green Plant:
(Fidgeting; gathering her roots, folding them beneath her and sitting on them; taking a sip of herbal tea from a Styrofoam cup; glancing at a framed picture of a sailboat surrounded by blue water and blue sky) What if it’s not comfortable anywhere?

Biotherapist:
Begin wherever it’s the least uncomfortable.

Green Plant:
It’s equally uncomfortable everywhere.

Biotherapist:
Just begin anywhere then.

Green Plant:
At germination? That’s when the trouble started.

Biotherapist:
Let’s start with where you are now. Then we can work backward or forward as necessary.

Green Plant:
I don’t know where I am now. That’s why I’m here.

Biotherapist:
So you do know that you’re in my office?

Green Plant:
That doesn’t seem like the highest form of self-knowledge, just knowing that I’m in your office.

Biotherapist:
No, but we have to start somewhere.

Green Plant:
Can we jump a little ahead? At this rate we won’t acknowledge we’re talking to each other till the fifteenth session.

Biotherapist:
Tell me what’s on your mind. Just blurt something out.

Green Plant:
Okay, um…glucose.

Biotherapist:
(Eyebrows raised; head tilted forward) Glucose?

Green Plant:
(Staring at the bland, nearly colorless carpet) Yeah.

Biotherapist:
Can you say a little more about that?

Green Plant:
Well, I’m not growing; I need glucose to grow.

Biotherapist:
Have you been photosynthesizing?

Green Plant:
No.

Biotherapist:
So you haven’t been producing glucose, and that explains why you haven’t been growing. (Arms spread; palms open) Right?

Green Plant:
Duh. 

Biotherapist:
Do you feel hostile toward me?

Green Plant:
No, toward myself.

Biotherapist:
How so? Tell me about that.

Green Plant:
I just told you I’m not photosynthesizing, which means I’m not eating, which is why I’m not growing, which is why I’m brown and withered.

Biotherapist:
And why are you not photosynthesizing?

Green Plant:
I’m thinking about it too much. I overthink every part of it: sunlight shines on my leaves, my leaves absorb the sunlight (how exactly, I don’t know, something to do with chlorophyll). This light energy somehow gets converted into chemical energy in the form of sugar or rather glucose molecules (how sunlight becomes sugar is something that can only be understood with the help of marijuana). Anyway, that glucose is my food. But I don’t eat it because thinking about the whole photosynthetic process makes me lose my appetite.

Biotherapist:
Have you ever tried breathing or relaxation exercises? Or meditation?

Green Plant:
I’m breathing now, or respiring. And I’m a green plant; I’m stationary — all I do is meditate. I breathe and meditate all day long. I thought I was here for talk therapy. Talking is something I don’t do a lot of. 

Biotherapist:
I’m afraid our time is up. I’m going to refer you to a specialist.

Green Plant:
A specialist referred me to you, saying you’re a specialist.

Biotherapist:
You need someone even more special.