Eight months in, I'm wondering whether therapy was the right decision. Once again today, I left my session feeling empty inside. Not sad, not frustrated, nothing. Just empty. Later on, in the evening, frustration came to fill the emptiness up.

I cannot get past the pain of baring my soul, telling things I've never told anyone else, to this woman for whom I've come to feel such genuine affection and caring and respect -- and being unable to ever know whether there's anything genuine in the kindness and openness she gives me. Always suspecting and fearing that it's all an act and that she'd never say another word to me that wasn't paid for. Always having to be the one to initiate any text or email conversation. I can't deal with this kind of one-sided, artificial relationship.

Too many people in my life have hurt me and betrayed me, including people I trusted completely. I'm desperate for something real in my life and feel like I signed on for something that is anything but.