I am so frustrated at myself, because I don't know what to do. I'm not sure if I am coping healthily - what does coping even mean, really?

I don't want to go back to ex therapist, of course I don't - it was driving me mad with the chopping and changing and inconsistency. The last ten months was a lot of anxiety and dissatisfaction, with quite a lot of hurtful bouts of unprofessionalism, and rare peaks of intense joy. That isn't how it should be.

But I have never loved anyone that intensely, apart from my mother. I feel quite empty, and I shouldn't - I have friends who I love, but for some reason it's not helping. I think the reason I'm hesitant about launching into how devastated I am is because it almost feels like I'm giving my friends a slap in the face - like I'm basically saying I love them less than this bloody woman, who ****ed me over, and that they can't help soften the blow. They are being great but I just don't want to discuss it with them. This is what makes me wonder am I repressing some kind of erotic attraction to ex therapist - because my devastation doesn't feel like it fits just therapy. I thought I had explored the brief romantic feelings I had for her, and that it had simply faded away - primarily because when I was in the room with her, I never was thinking oh I want to have sex with you. And I had an experimental wank again the other day, when I was in a particularly amorous mood, and I just couldn't properly come thinking about her, it felt sordid rather than passionate - and then my mind zipped onto Daniel Craig to belt out another orgasm, and all was well

But what I do miss, is the intimacy, the intensity, and I think, the sensuality? I worry I will never have that again. I want to believe I will have this richness with somebody else again, but I am paranoid now more than ever that once people get to know me they change their minds, and realise they don't love me after all. I feel that my friends stick by me because we are like family, but even around them I am becoming a bit more careful, and that maybe I need to go back to being less emotionally honest with them when I'm struggling in case they withdraw from me too.

I think she did love me to the best of her ability for a time. But then her behaviour strikes me as weak and lacking in integrity whenever she realised it was fading away. She disengaged emotionally for the most part, but kept seeing me, and sometimes felt a wave of affection for me. This muddled the situation further because it gave me false hope that things could be okay again, and feeding me a few lines kept me hanging on and not seeing her for what she really was. Love has to come from the heart or not at all.

Then I think she felt guilty at making such a hames of everything, and didn't like feeling guilty, so acted out her anger at me being the cause of her guilt, to try to make me feel I was to blame for everything. She ended the therapy in a way that was easiest for her, instead of being kind enough and professional enough to do it correctly, and refer me out as soon as she started getting over invested.

I know I haven't really lost anything, just a handful of dust and meaningless promises. I don't want to be close to somebody who is so careless with my feelings.

Why do I want to talk to her then?

I am staggered at my own insane heart impulse. But I miss being loved - or believing it, she was very convincing for a while. The toughest part is knowing it's the person I loved most in the world who did this, that she must think I'm worth nothing, it makes it really hard not to hate myself after this kind of betrayal. I don't hate myself, and I'm doing basic good self care but I can't get my **** together. I can't organise myself properly, I have no motivation even though I know there's stuff I passionately want to do. It makes no sense.