Well...at the beginning of April I sent off an in-depth complaint letter to my insurance company, about their tactless way of handling their questioning of my therapeutic process. My letter, I feel, didn't hold back anything. This was not the first time I wrote them.

There approach/tone etc. has contributed (in part) to my current state of mind about therapy in general. That state of mind is: What is the point?

Saturday I received a letter and other documentation from my insurance stating they are initiating a review of services. The letter of complaint I sent to them didn't request any sort of appeal, I just asked them to realize how they hurt me and for them to apologize. So in some ways, their actions didn't really address my requests.

I called the person handling the review on Monday morning and she did seem sincerely apologetic for my entire experience from the start, and talked with me for about an hour on the phone to answer my questions and, in some ways, listen to me.

It was a gesture that was a "step in the right direction" on their part.

But...part of me feels it was "too little too late". I have a deep feeling of "what is the point"?

You know...the average life expectancy for a white male is about 77 years. I'm 33, approaching 34. And you know what gives me such peace? The fact that, in one way or another, my life is approaching an end. I'm approaching the halfway point. And all I can think is: Thank goodness, it is almost halfway over. Whenever someone dies, I feel some sadness if they died in painful/frightening way...but the actual "being dead" part, I feel no sadness. I just feel envious. As I watch myself age and approach that average life expectancy, I just think more and more: thank goodness it is almost over.

Before I sent the letter of complaint to my insurance company, I had talked to my therapist about some billing issues on the phone (we were then and still remain on a "therapeutic break"). I mentioned to her I was writing the letter to my insurance company and would likely send her a copy. But I never did. I figured, what would she care? I'm not really her client right now, because I'm on break.

But given that the insurance company started the review of services and she is now involved, I went ahead and sent her the copy today. I mentioned in an attached note that it feels like "too little too late" and I see no point in trying anymore.

I just don't seem to care. I am alone and have always been alone. The world needs to feel safe for me to want to enter it. It doesn't feel safe. And no one can really make the world safe (or feel safe) except for me. But since I just don't care, I am making no efforts to enter the world, to find some safe place in it to enter. So at the very least I am at a standstill - but moreso I think I'm regressing/retreating.

if I don't care, l told my therapist in the note, I see no point in continuing therapy. I told her though, I think perhaps I should have a session before I make a final decision on terminating therapy. But I told her I have no timetable on that.

and when I think of returning at all, i get anxious. it feels like to leave my "tiny created safe world" I lose my power...because in therapy i am on "her turf" where she has all the power.

I feel myself wanting to want to care. some part of me feels like it is screaming, in fact, that I want to care...but the mouth is either covered by a hand or gagged.

I want to want to care. but i can't fake it. i can't envision myself ever getting to where i believe the world is safe or that i am not poision.