I am giving him this letter:

I remember when it first felt like you were really my therapist. This took a long time because I was scared. Before that, I felt like you were sort of my therapist; partially my therapist. Like a family member who is only involved in one’s life to some extent—you might socialize with them at a gathering, but you know you’re not going to call them or anything outside of that. I was scared to ask for more. I needed permission. I did not know to what extent I was “allowed” to involve you in my life and treatment. I remember when we finally established that calling was permitted. I also recall the time in which I was finally able to directly establish the fact that I wanted to come to two sessions per week. These were important factors because they allowed me to see the ways in which you are available. It felt incredibly good to know that even when my schedule did not permit, two times per week would still be possible when there was time. It felt good to know that if I couldn’t come on a particular day, another day would be available. It also felt good when you would tell me you aren’t going anywhere. That’s all pretty much gone now. Now you are going back to partial-therapist. Therapist on a restricted basis. It’s not %#@&#! fair. It is not %#@&#! fair that when I’m doing ******, and feel like I might need more, you won’t be there. I walked into session today prepared to ask for two sessions per week starting in December. I was looking forward to working this out because my schedule would finally allow it. Well, that was a %#@&#! joke. I don’t trust anyone. Not any %#@&#! psychiatrist, not any therapist, especially not you. I always knew you would leave on some level. Yes, there are still Saturdays but don’t bother telling me you aren’t going to leave those too, because I bet you will. I wish I never started therapy with you, and frankly, I never thought so seriously about ending it before today. I just want to forget about you. I already have enough pain, therapy hurts too %#@&#! much, and I’m not going anywhere. You will, though. You’ll go. I don’t need to push you away because you have already done that for me. I’ll take care of the rest.