there are a million things i want to say to you. i would like to think that me talking to you every day would help you figure your problems out. but i’m starting to think it won’t. you sit here and moan to me time and time again about how you want to S.I. and all that jazz, and i keep telling you not to, it’s like i’m your last resort. you confide a lot in me, a stranger whose voice you hear over the phone. a strangers voice hundreds of miles away. i grow tired of it. i’m not your therapist. i try to help you as much as possible, but talking is all i can do. i’ve given you like a hundred tips on how to deal but you don’t seem to care, so you S.I. anyways. i feel somewhat safe now. i haven’t S.I. since september, i’ve had a lot of urges in between then but i haven’t S.I.. i’ve found other ways to deal. painting, writing, lifting weights, walking and seeing my therapist once a week. i try to deal with my past. i’ve come to realize that to hold on is gonna destroy me in the end. you confide in me with all that haunts you, that’s good but you gotta talk to your therapist. but then you go and talk to your therapist and then whine to me how much you hate your therapist. common sense says switch. i don’t know what to do anymore…i’m losing my mind. i want to be a therapist one day, and help children one day and help them get through the hard times. yes help! but when i get older and feel more in control of my life and can deal with what might my future patients/clients (whatever you want to call them), but not now! i have enough that i gotta deal with and when you pour all that on me like that, i feel like i’m gonna go nuts myself! like i said, I want to help you, but i don’t know if i can handle this anymore!