These words are not clever or articulate. They are basic. They are feelings which hardly touch the edge. They are the crater at the top of a volcano which may erupt and spew it’s contents at any time. They are me.


(My experience of abusive therapy)

Eight years gone; vanished from my life

Deaf ears to the pleading all around me

Every minute of my life consumed by you

You told me that you loved me

I couldn’t survive apart from you

Every time you left me, a part of me died

And I shrivelled further into my anorexia

And permanently scarred my body

“Love me, hug me, and kiss me please”

“I need to be in your arms”

“Never leave me”, I implored

“You are my favourite mum”

I needed you. You needed me

When you were absent for a while

My world fell in. I was lost without you

Like a body deprived of oxygen

I didn’t know then, that you were toxic

You loved me too much; so much that it hurt

Unspeakable, unbearable pain

Cut into my flesh; forever imperfect

We’d text, “With love and hugs”

I cried down the phone every day

You were so near yet so far

Without you, I was helpless

The day my father died; you left me

With words that pierced my heart

I hid in a corner and died that day

Wanting to evaporate into spirit

That could fetch you back

I tried to end my life

The hospital staff disliked me

Because it was my fault and I wasn’t ill

They couldn’t see that you were killing me softly


Author: Ellie Thompson

Writing my memoirs, musings, a little fiction and a lot of poetry as a way of exploring and making the most of my life ... ... Having had a break from writing my blog for more than three years, I decided to return to write my memoirs, some day-to-day observations, views and feelings. My passion is non-fiction poetry. I have a disability and use an electric powerchair called Alfie and let nothing get in the way of living life to the full. I believe that you can never do a kindness too soon and should give credit where credit is due. A smile or a kind word could make the difference between a good or bad day for a person - we never know what's going on for another soul. Those little things, perhaps, practised daily like a mantra, could mean so much to someone else. Thank you for visiting my blog and reading a little more about me. Please, make yourself at home here. You are very welcome. Ellie x 😊

11 thoughts on “KILLING ME SOFTLY”

  1. Reblogged this on elliesofia and commented:

    I’m reblogging this post as a precursor to my following post. I am still dealing with the destruction left behind by my eight-year encounter with an emotionally abusive therapist, Ellie.

  2. It’s terrible and such an awful turn of events when someone who has been entrusted with the “highest” power and confidential to do “well” does more harm – and for the pain you have suffered Ellie – I am so sorry.

  3. I think there’s another level to despicable for people who do the walkouts on such crucial days. Sure, any other day would have been bad, but – Can’t you wait a day or two?
    A feel the hurt expressed in this piece. Heartbreaking.

    1. Thanks so much for your thoughts about this. It was an appalling act and a callous thing to do. Another day would have been awful, too, but how can anyone with an ounce of decency and sensitivity walk out the day my father died? I should have reported her at the time, but I was in no fit state to do this back then. Now, it is too late. When I get assigned a new counsellor elsewhere, I want to work on my anger about what that woman did during therapy by having smashed my boundaries to bits and leaving me at such an important and crucial time. Thanks for your comment, Sam. It’s much appreciated.

  4. Ellie you have been mistreated. I am so sad to hear there exist people like this out there. And they’re professional? How? No way this is acceptable. Hugging you, dear friend. May all end better from now on. You don’t need to try to be brave anymore: you are brave. I bless you. Xoxo, Selma

    1. Thank you, Selma. Believe it or not, she was a member of the BACP (British Association of Counsellors and Therapists). When I had got over the trauma of her walking out on me on the day my father died, I wanted to report her to this organisation, but unfortunately, by that time, it was too late to lodge a complaint. The thing that bothers me most now is that she is still working as a therapist at a different place. I only hope she doesn’t treat anyone else like she treated me. I think, as your kind words say, things are a bit better for me now, and I’m grateful for that. With love, Ellie Xx 🌷💓

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