I think that I'm disillusioned. I'm not sure I believe in therapy anymore.

Whether or not one has a messed up childhood, who isn't going to like or enjoy the therapy relationship where we get unconditional acceptance from the therapist, their undivided attention, and compassion? Who isn't going to like that? Who isn't going to "fall in love" with the therapist? Who isn't going to wish that they could be a part of they could be a family with the therapist? The more deprived or messed up one's childhood is, the more s/he may fall in love with the therapist. We grow attached. We think that the therapist is the most amazing person in our lives. But that is their job. They are paid to do all that. If we met our therapists in a different setting – maybe through a friend or an acquaintance – we wouldn't be that much into them.

When we grow attached to therapists, they start to talk about boundaries, rules, and structure. They start to pull back. Like stopdog said, they set the game up.

Is therapy even the answer? One of the most helpful therapy meetings for me is when the therapist shares a bit about her life to show me that she understands and that I'm not alone. I could never work with a therapist who is completely a blank slate.

Who hasn't been through bad things in their lives? The mistake is our continuing to search out some kind of lost love of a parent in the therapeutic relationship. It's like chasing the wind. You're never going to get it. I think that if we can just accept that were nothing special and we're all peas in the same pot and all of us have bad things that happen to us, we can just move on and live life without being dependent on therapy.

For me, a "therapist" is just a paid reliable friend. My friends aren't always available to talk when I need to.