Dear J,

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.
I was not sitting there thinking it didn't matter or that what you said was dumb.
I was not ignoring you.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
I didn't and still don't know how to explain. I just felt like I let my mouth run away with me in the first half of the hour. Said too many incomplete things. Had too many incomplete thoughts and emotions scattered about, time was running out, and I just felt undone.

I was listening to you, I swear. I was thinking...that I didn't WANT to be there in that moment looking at shadow leaves. You seemed so amazed by life; I just wanted out. I just want out of life. I don't want to DO this. I don't want to do life. It's a mistake, my being here. It's a mistake. And it's not fair because so many people would want what I have - my health, family, position in life - it is so unfair for me to want to throw it away. But I don't ******* want it.

In any case, I was listening. I was letting go of the physical feelings and emotions and trying to be in the moment. I just couldn't talk. I just couldn't. I wanted S (ex-T). I wanted my mom. I didn't want to go home. I was numb and there was music in my head and I swear I wasn't trying to be difficult. I wasn't trying to be dramatic or manipulative or anything like that. I just couldn't talk. There was too much. And then there was nothing. And then I got stuck in the nothing. And then time went so fast, I blinked, and it was time to go. And I just felt like ****.

I feel stupid asking for a second session. I don't feel like I deserve it. You said - I'm the only one who can pull myself out of this - so what is the point of asking for other sessions - because it's not like you or anyone else can do this for me or make me do it. I just couldn't imagine sitting with all of this until next Friday. I don't know why I still feel such a mess. I don't know what I'm coming in looking for. I don't know anything. I hate this. I hate all of this. I hate that you don't know me, that I can't sit there and know that the person I'm talking to knows everything about me and is still choosing to sit there. I hate starting over. I hate that I can't receive everything you say and know that you already know everything about what I've done and the choices I've made.

I hate this so much. I'm scared of telling you, of telling anyone. There are things I've told S and only S - nobody else in my life - and I never thought I would be in this place. I thought he was it. I thought he was the last therapist I would ever have. I hate this I hate this I hate this. I hate that I can't email you this right now - an hour after the session - rather than printing it out and having to wait until Monday. I hate that by the time you read it, I'll be in a different place. Time will have passed. Things change over time. I hate everything. I hate losing S. I hate starting over. I hate being alone. I feel so ******* alone. I hate that I'm not doing better at this. I hate that I'm not stronger. I hate that I don't make better choices. I hate that I'm not better than this.

I'm just sorry. I'm sorry for going silent on you, not looking at you, not responding, shutting down. I probably looked angry, but I wasn't. I so wasn't. I just wanted to cry. I just felt so small. I just wanted S...or my mom...or whatever that feeling is. I just wanted to be somewhere else. I just wanted none of this to have ever happened.