Wednesday, 9.30pm, Arena ‘‘ Everybody’s f . . ked up in their own personal way.’’ ‘‘ Why do you want Dad at the wedding? He’s an asshole.’’ Doesn’t sound like dialogue from In Treatment, does it? That’s because, as opposed to Gabriel Byrne’s enduring and excellent drama about the professional and personal lives of a therapist, this is a reality version of the professional lives of practitioners who live and work in Lost Angeles. Statements such as ‘‘ everyone expects therapists to have these perfect lives’’ and ‘‘ we’re human beings’’ are just plain ridiculous. I suspect that if people in LA think therapists are anything but ordinary if skilled people, they really have been watching too much TV. And, of course, that goes to the way therapy is presented on TV, a discussion far too complicated to go into here. But my main reservation is that, by its very nature, psychotherapy is private and confidential. The sessions here are like Punch and Judy shows at a carnival. Too much contrived conflict, too many value judgments (‘‘stop talking that nonsense at once’’) and, in some cases, way too much Botox. Only in LA.