The Last Waltz

I make my exit and never speak to her again afterwards.

In Which We See Each Other In Person

I visit Sam at her Watertown office to see what it would be like to be in the room with her again. It was the beginning of the end.

The Reversiest of Roles

When Sam's niece dies suddenly, I became her therapist comforting her.

Three Months of Hell

We went back to twice weekly sessions, but it only made things worse as Sam disclosed more and more, making me feel closer and closer as she both implied and explicitly spoke about our intimate relationship.

The First Next Session

Despite my initial desire to end things, Sam persuades me to continue seeing her. What a mistake.

“I love You. I am Deeply Immersed With You.” — Sam

The relationship with Sam became blurred as she used suggestive language and pushed for more frequent, insurance-questionable sessions. Our dynamic came to a head when Sam admitted to seductive behavior and told me she loved me.

“Sometimes what feels like love is just love.” — Sam

In which I develop feelings for Sam and tell her I'm having transference, which she dismisses, telling me it's just love.

Things I Know About My Former Therapist (But Shouldn’t)

Here is a short and incomplete list of things that I know about my former therapist.

What Makes This More Than A Story

You're going to read about my breakdown. I'll introduce myself and a pseudonym for my former therapist in another post. What makes this more than just me telling my story is that I will post recordings, images of texts and emails, and some of her notes.