Group: How One Therapist and a Circle of Strangers Saved My Life

by Christie Tate

From a quick glance, I could tell he was too young to be my dad and too old to want to fuck, which seemed ideal.

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Back in my car, I dialed Dr. Rosen’s number. I told his answering machine about the chicken breasts, the no in my gut, the sex that I instigated. “I tried to tell you. Please hear me.” Four days later in group: My eyes locked with Dr. Rosen’s. My fists were tight with rage. How many more guys did I have to fuck for him to take me seriously? What would it take to wipe that smirk off his face?

Annoying