There’s a book called Red Flags in Psychotherapy. It’s often used as a text for ethics units in counselling.

Instead of calling Christie Tate’s memoir, Group, let’s call it Red Flags in Psychotherapy Part Two.

Group chronicles Tate’s experience in group therapy over a number of years. She sought therapy after struggling with an eating disorder, thoughts of death, and because she had trouble maintaining meaningful relationships.

Firstly, I’m glad for Tate that she benefited from her long and extensive therapy experience (which peaked at three sessions a week). In her acknowledgments, she thanks her therapist, Dr. Rosen, noting that she has paid him so much money over the years that he could afford a luxury yacht, however, he gave her a ‘life’, and she figures that’s a fair exchange.

Secondly, and importantly, Tate’s experience is in no way an account of ethically-run group therapy (or any therapy). There are so many boundary violations in this book that I lost count (start with the disclosure; the ‘prescriptions’; the physical contact). Boundary violations are synonymous with unethical practice; are damaging for the client; and can be career-ending for the therapist. I don’t understand how Dr. Rosen is in practice.

The group, an open group, ran on the basis of full disclosure – no secrets, tell everyone everything, and group members can discuss the sessions with whomever they like. Dr. Rosen questioned why people were so invested in privacy, and said –

Keeping secrets from other people is more toxic than other people knowing your business.

Furthermore –

Holding on to secrets is a way of holding shame that doesn’t belong to you.

To a certain extent I agree with these ideas. However, shame is very, very tricky territory, and often associated with trauma. And managing trauma is a very, very specialised part of therapy. On that basis alone, I can’t recommend this book (but if you are interested in shame, listen to Monica Lewinsky’s TED Talk or delve into the writing of Brené Brown).

1.5/5 Half a mark for the bit about the engagement ring, which had me saying aloud, “Oh my frickin’ god… is this a cult?”

Tate goes to her therapist’s house for dinner (IKR?), where she was served roasted carrot soup.