FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU. I slipped. I got interupted writing a PM to a friend on SF so I sent what I wrote already to myself in an email to finish later (don't know if I can save drafts on this board). Although I was quick to delete the message from my inbox, I completely forgot about the one in my sent folder and my snoopy dad found it. Obviously he was concerned and started asking me if I was alright and what "SF" stood for. I'm thanking my lucky stars I didn't write out the full name or he would have had a heart attack. I don't know how to explain things to him without giving myself away. I've been feeling pretty good for the past few months so I don't see any reason to get any help at the moment. If I'm forced treatment instead of seeking it on my own, I'll probably resent and resist it. I know I should make the best of it to get better, but the last time my dad pushed me onto a therapist, I was too pissed off to tell her anything. Now I'm in full panic mode. I can only hope he drops it.