Amy Kersten, LCSW

After my father died, I really needed to speak to a therapist. She offered telehealth visits through an app my insurance company offered.Every session was me pouring out my heart, with her sitting there silently staring at me, saying nothing, offering no advice. I'd talk and talk, often in tears, until she would cut me off to say we're out of time, then coldly ask if I wanted to schedule another session. Even though insurance would have paid for more, and I definitely needed more, she would only see me once a month.She offered no insight, no helpful words, no useful skills or exercises. I came out to her about being LBGT, and she replied by laughing at me. I sat there stoically staring at her to let her know I wasn't joking, she looked a little embarrassed then moved on. In the notes I could see after every session, it was clear she wasn't listening. She got all kinds of background info about me wrong, and her summary of our session was almost always very inaccurate.