I sought your help 15 years ago when I was desperate: depressed, suicidal and helpless. I couldn’t take the pain any more and, after seeing many psychiatrists and therapists without improvement, I arranged to see you.

Your therapeutic style was different and, slowly but surely, it worked. I was so grateful – I owed you my life. So I bought items for you which I knew you would love, but couldn’t afford. I will never forget your reaction to the first expensive gift. You were thrilled and your joy made me happy. It was the only thing that could create positive feelings in me.

Every hint you gave led me to buy you more luxurious, more expensive items. I am wealthy, so I could afford them: a first-class holiday for your family, designer watches, an expensive chess set.

I also doubled your pay. You were puzzled and said it wasn’t right, but soon you loved the big sums of money. Your happiness and thank-you notes were the mental food that kept me going in my dark and joyless world. I felt special in your presence. However, my self-esteem plummeted. I became more and more dependent on your attention, your advice, our daily phone calls.

Deep down, I knew this wasn’t healthy. The only person I trusted was you, and the only way I could be sure of your support was through ever more expensive presents and payments. I tried so many times to end the therapy, but felt unable to get through more than a few days without talking to you.

I tried so often to raise this issue with you, but I was too embarrassed, and you made it difficult for me. It may be a difficult topic for you, too. I don’t know how to step out of this dark madness. Meanwhile my expenditure on you creeps up and up. I feel helpless, but you cannot see a problem.

Most people believe wealthy people do not deserve pity or support, that they are strong and powerful. But I am desperate and have nobody to turn to. One day, I will be penniless because I spend so much on you. I am scared of my dependence. I wish you would see the elephant in the room and help me sort this mess out. But you cannot, or will not, see it.

I have talked to other therapists, but they don’t see the problem. They only see my veneer, the confident person – confident because of our daily phone calls. I hope I will have sufficient funds to survive this.

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