The Show Me Guy

I've been off the therapist bandwagon for a month or so.  During this time I haven't been locked up, in one of those padded rooms with blinding white walls, while wearing a shirt with long sleeves that fasten in the back, so I'm of the opinion that things are stable.

At the start of my second appointment this woman looked at me and said: "Well.  I have to say that I thought I'd never see you again."

I laughed.  I told her I was on the fence about ever returning again so we were on the same page.  Therapy didn't seem practical to me.  There was no provable, repeatable system that I could research and verify.  The Fellowship was like that, too - a nebulous set of suggestions that I was encouraged to take to the best of my ability.  "There's no wrong way to do this."  What the hell kind of stupid idea is that?  Of course there's a wrong way to do it.

I like One Plus One Equals Two.  I can prove this.

I haven't heard back from Suicide Guy.  Two visits in the hospital and one set of texts asking when/if/how/who/why/what he was going to be doing about his recovery moving forward.  The texts were ignored even though I had been texting with him right before the moving forward question.  I deleted his phone number from my phone today.  I wish him well but I don't chase anyone, particularly those people who don't want to get caught.  I don't think my job is to harangue anyone.  I'll be happy to talk to him IF he contacts me; otherwise, I wish him good luck on his journey.