Dry

Burroughs barely tolerates an Affirmations session, imagining them little more than feel-good rituals without tangible results. Next, in therapy, the counselor, Rae, discusses the many consequences of drinking. Burroughs thinks of his apartment, littered with hundreds of empty scotch bottles. He never invites anyone over because of the shame. More and more, he prefers staying home alone and drinking, isolating himself from friends. This admission makes him feel pathetic and lonely. Rae shares her own story: Married to a doctor and earning her own degree, her marriage fell apart, and she started drinking. It escalated until, five years later, she hit rock bottom. Now, 10 years later, with a doctorate, she counsels others with addictions. The goal, she says, is for everyone to get “sober,” and the finality of that word fills Burroughs with sadness.

In therapy one day, the counselor, David, assigns them to write a letter to someone close to them. Burroughs writes a brutally honest letter to Pighead, confessing that he keeps his distance not only so he can drink (Pighead doesn’t) but also because he can’t bear the pain of losing him should he die. Reading the letter aloud, he breaks down for the first time.