Dear T,

I don't like you. You've got no sense of humour, you have no warmth, you're cold clinical and operate not as a person but as a text book automaton. You make all these promises and I think they're just lines from the text book, I think you have no idea what the words really mean.

I'm seeing you in a few hours and I think you're going to be defensive and waste half my session trying to explain your motivations and reasons for the way you were last session, instead of listening to ME and hearing what I'm feeling and thinking and needing and wanting.

I feel utterly crap because I know it's not going to work with you and that means I've come to the end of the line with therapy and that is really really scaring me.

Why couldn't you have listened to me? What I need and want isn't that obscure or difficult to provide. You just aren't capable, just like every other T I've seen, of stepping outside your own limited experience and entering my world, learning my language.

I can't keep blaming myself for therapists' failures, but I know I am and will keep doing so. I feel so bereft and frightened.