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6:42 a.m. - June 12, 2003 Last night was my final group therapy session until September though I�m evaluating whether I will continue in the program upon my return from Washington, D.C. I inquired earlier whether participation in both the individual and group therapy formats is compulsory because honestly, the group session isn�t comfortable for me. Unfortunately both are required � remember, this is a pilot program and it�s all about statistics and model therapy. It strikes me that the phrase isn�t comfortable for me is a whiny cop-out and a defense but it is accurate: Each time I go or leave a session, I leave with a mounting conviction that it isn�t the place for me. I spoke to Dr. Indy about it once and she said to give things a chance but still, I look around and their issues � or how they deal with them � are so different from mine that it�s frustrating and demoralizing. I�m the only one out of this group that has the aversion/attraction/panic/repulse response to intimacy; the others fall along the spectrum but mostly clustered around I�m a stretched-out slut though I don�t think that�s the official label. Of all insane things, I register jealousy and envy when I hear them talk about their activities and goings-on, not titillated but curious, watching the window into something that simply isn�t me. And yet more frequently I have been intimate, a ship obscured by fog. It�s not the type, or quality, of intimacy I want, however; it is unfulfilling and empty. I don�t think there�s a place in me where I�ll be comfortable. You know what I�m really afraid of? That if I let go I�ll turn into one of them.
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