Hi, I am in shock because I just found out that my therapist died today. I knew this guy for 24 years. When I first turned up on his doorstep in 1987, I was extremely traumatised and totally lost. I also felt starved for love. This guy took me in, and cared for me and guided me. I became incredibly dependent on him for several years, and attending lots of group therapy that he ran. I would take some kindly thing he said, and play it over and over in my mind, just to get the sense of compassion from it.

This man has been the main reason I'm as well as I am today. Of all what he taught me, the thing that stands out is self acceptance. Just recently I was telling him how much i hate my childhood abusers. He was so kind, and so accepting, and just wanted to find out more. That's how i"ll remember him. He was 67, and had been physically frail for a long time.

I used to be frightened that if anything happened to Jim, I wouldn't survive, or I'd go straight back to getting drunk. Right now, I just want to live well in honour of all that he did for me. I can't believe he's gone yet. I've been through this with losing my parents.

i just want to share something funny. I was in psych hospital where he worked. I was down the back of this place, pacing furiously. Jim came up and asked what the matter was.
'the shrink said I'm schizo affective!!!'
'well, what's in a name?' he asked.
'but it means there's something drastically WRONG with me!' i wailed.
'OH well' he said, calm as calm. 'we could have figured THAT out.'

I'm a very lucky woman, that he spend so much time with me, guiding and caring. And, I believe when we die we go home. It's just incredibly painful at the moment.