Reports indicate that your imaginary friend is a bit wary of your therapist.
“Who needs that silly therapist when you’ve got me?” asked the Imaginary Friend, standing in front of your computer as you tried to book an appointment. “I’ve always been here for you!”
“When have I ever steered you down the wrong path?” asked the Imaginary Friend, who had in fact steered you down the wrong path on many occasions. “Sure, there was that one time with the flying saucer and the cops and everything, but it’s not like your therapist’s going to be any better at telling you when there might be aliens hovering above your house.”
“Are you really going to put your mental health in the hands of some ‘professionals’ who barely know you and will just put you on some random medications owned by Big Pharma??” asked the Imaginary Friend, actually making kind of a decent point, now that you think about it. “Come on, it’s me, your old pal. We’ve been through everything together. Don’t listen to that sketchy shrink.”
At press time, your therapist was advising you to start a fight club.

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