Maybe They Have Good Intentions

I told Ruthie, my psychiatrist, that my symptoms are getting worse. There are people out there who are out to get me. 
Ruthie works at the local establishment where I purchase my gas. I always look carefully to make sure no one is following me when I leave her place. A man in my position can't be too careful.
Ruthie works at a gas station, but she has a psychiatry degree from Herzing so she knows her stuff.
"Why don't you just go ahead and let them get you? Maybe they have good intentions."
I never looked at it that way before. But I best not take any chances. I am still on the run.