It's funny that I was just thinking that my therapist must hate me because the last thing I wrote to him in my journal was about this impending last session hug. Then I open up the Couch and you're talking about hugs.

He probably doesn't hate me. It's just that he's on vacation this week and writing about the hug thing felt very vulnerable to me. He might think I'm a weirdo though. I had a list of about 5 concerns I had about the hug including that I'd seriously regret not hugging him and that I don't think I can hug him because of shame. Talk about conflicting feelings.

If 4 hugs a day were required for survival, I'd have been dead long ago. I think I've had one hug this year.