I really hate to admit it, even in my private journal, but I searched for my therapist's home address and found it. I feel really guilty and scared, but I'm dying to go see where she lives. I probably just shouldn't, but I probably will anyway. I'm just wrestling with myself. I started seeing he twice a week, but it still doesn't seem like enough. I just think I need to know where she is--to have a way to feel like she's there for me in between sessions. I don't want to bug her though. So driving by her house (if she never found out) would be a way to get that good feeling I get when I'm with her without bugging her.
I know if I weren't thinking about this, I'd be thinking about how lonely I am, or what a freak I am, or how no one loves me, or even about how I should be doing my homework. I really like my class, but I just can't concentrate to read anything. Everytime I try, I just end up reading the same sentence over and over and it just won't go into my head. I'm getting my cast off tomorrow--that's the only good news I can think of. I wish I could be saying this to someone so they could stop me from going to spy on my therapist--well not really spy--I just want to see where it is, and maybe drive by a little slower than normal. But my journal isn't going to stop me, and I'm no fucking good at stopping myself from doing anything bad for me. I'm so fucking weak--no wonder no one loves me!
Cynthia W. Lubow, MFT
Depression and PTSD Specialist
For 25 years, compassionately helping women heal from depression, and it's
destructive criticism, losses and traumas, while building self-acceptance and confidence.