Ghosted by Therapist
“I Was Working on Abandonment Issues–This Really Brought It Home.”
Thirty-two-year-old Matthew Borrelli was making solid progress with his therapist, Dr. Karen Levitz, until one Tuesday afternoon when his Zoom session was abruptly cut short and every follow-up message was met with silence. Weeks later, he finally received a text: “New phone. Who dis?” It was signed with a cactus emoji and a GIF of Oprah shrugging.
“At first, I thought maybe she was testing me,” said Matthew, staring into the middle distance. “You know, like reverse psychology immersion. But when she unmatched me on LinkedIn, I realized I’d been ghosted.”
Dr. Levitz has yet to issue a formal statement, but her website now redirects to a crystal healing page with an autoplay video of rain sounds and a header that reads “Let It Go. Professionally.”
Friends have rallied around Matthew, who now refers to himself as “therapized and vaporized.” His group chat changed his contact name to “Abandoned Matt” and sent him daily memes of empty chairs and unclaimed emotional baggage.
Experts are baffled. “Ghosting is typically reserved for casual relationships and shady landlords,” said Dr. Heather Bane, professor of Modern Etiquette at Cornell. “But therapy? That’s the Super Bowl of emotional accountability. You can’t just yeet your caseload into the ether.”
In response, Matthew launched a support group called “Shrink Tanked,” which meets Thursdays in the back of a Barnes & Noble Café. Sessions include dramatic readings of old therapy notes, re-enactments of unfinished breakthrough moments, and collective screaming into biscotti.
Meanwhile, Dr. Levitz’s social media suggests she has relocated to Sedona, where she now offers “Trauma Tarot” and moonlight coaching for dogs with seasonal depression. She’s booked through September.
Matthew says he’s not angry–just confused. “She said I was making progress. Then poof. Now I can’t trust anyone who owns a Himalayan salt lamp.”
Auf Wiedersehen, amigos.
