Therapist=Creep

So, the story with the T...
I had been seeing Dr. R for about 8 months, and he had helped me through some stressful situations. The last three weeks or so, his behavior had seemed odd, but I worte it off to some sort of psych method. He had not spent nearly the usual amount of time on ED-related stuff, and had suggested that I stop seeing my new boyfriend because I "needed some time to focus on myself". I didn't think that was entirely illogical, except that since I have been with him my binge frequency has gone WAY down. Also, Dr. R had started asking me rather explicit details about my sexual history, which I felt rather uncomfortable sharing (Did you orgasm the first time you had intercourse? When did you start masturbating?), but once again I figured it might somehow be relevant (oh, naive little me).

SO, about a week and a half ago now, I am sitting in his office and I start talking about how I miss my family, but don't really want to go home. He stands up and walks behind the chair I am sitting in, and places his hands on my shoulders. "Perhaps what you really miss then, is just the love and affection they provide. Do you miss having someone to hug you when you need it?"

"Well, I am pretty close with my room mates, and I do have my boyfriend, but maybe I miss it like from my parents."

...starts massaging my shoulders...

"I think you miss having the approval of and physical connection with an older adult."

...hands move into my hair...


This is where I freak out. Why not sooner you ask? I couldn't tell you. I grab my coat and bag and I book, stat. I felt mega icky. So I went home, and I binged and I cried and then I called the horrid counceling center to make an appointment for a consultation so I could check out possible new FEMALE therapists.

Gah. Not making this whole "recovery" thing any easier.