My love affair with a venture capitalist mental health entity and the Narcissistic abuse cycle.

My love affair with a venture capitalist mental health entity, and the Narcissistic abuse cycle.

By Margaret Whitehair 

LPC/S; ATR-BC, EMDRIA Certified Therapist/ CIT; KAP provider

 I was a naive therapist going into my private practice. Professionally, I had ten plus years under my belt and many letters to follow my name. Going into private practice was a way to bet on myself. So far, I had only had experience with “safe” known organizations like hospitals, community organizations, and insurance panels, which my peers and supervisors had vetted. But I was ready to grow, and other insurance providers reimbursed at a higher, more reasonable rate. I heard about an organization (we will call it Armpath for privacy purposes) from some of my colleagues. From the stories I heard about Armpath, I knew there was some hesitation amongst providers, but I was intrigued.

1. Love Bombing: “You are showered with intense love and often referred to as their soulmate.”

Armpath was promising and offered some solutions that I needed. They would panel me on several insurances, at NO cost to me. Wow, that sounded very appealing. Not only that, if I signed up and had some clients (four, so not that many) within two weeks, they would give me a $500 bonus. Also, they promised me $250 -$350 per referral for providers. So if I made them look good and shared their awesomeness (typical dynamic for a narcissist), they would reward me. They wanted me to join and were making it easy for me to want to join. The people I talked to were friendly and responded promptly to my emails. I felt reassured and decided that they could not be as bad as some people imagined.

Initially, it was great. I got some clients who had found me through the new insurance I was now paneled with. I felt like Armpath was treating me well and helping my practice thrive. Some other providers were hesitant to share my enthusiasm; they seemed cautious about my eagerness, but did not say anything to me directly. I, on the other hand, being in the glow of love-bombing, spoke very fondly of Armpath. 

I eventually transferred some of my other clients to the Armpath platform because it seemed so much easier to have everything in one location. Armpath had promised to make my life easier, and for a while, they did.

Human-made drawing of information.

….Yellow Flags appear….

One of my clients noted that he had been charged more for the session than I was. So I checked, and yes, it was $15 more than my contracted rate with that insurance. My client was very money-conscious, and I was glad they noticed. Then the same thing happened with another client, and they noticed it too. So, I switched them off Armpath, back to how I had originally seen them. I remembered the faint echoes of warning from the older, wiser providers. But these were small oversights compared to the benefits I was enjoying. 

I tried contacting Armpath about the billing issues, but suddenly, there was no person to be found on the phone. Their contact form was the only way to get a response. They weren’t quite as eager to talk to me now. Thankfully, I was able to reverse the situation without much impact on my clients or their trust.  

2.Devaluing: “Once you let your guard down, you notice red flags and the intense love disappears.”

I did not get many clients directly through Armpath, but clients were finding me through the insurance I was now working with. I chugged along and continued to build my practice and add clients, including some private pay clients. Armpath was very happy to have me add any of my clients to their platform, including private pay clients. I followed my instinct and did not upload any of my client's documentation or notes from sessions to their platform.

 In November 2024, I got some emails and messages from Armpath saying that I needed to “re-attest” with CAQH (another step we have to do to comply). The messages provided a link to do so. I went to CAQH, which is a reputable organization that keeps all of the therapists and providers credentialed and legal. I followed all the steps to re-attest, and received a confirmation email from CAQH that I was successful.

But a banner appeared on my account, and I received emails from Armpath telling me that I was not successful, and I still had to re-attest. I repeated this procedure several times, receiving confirmation emails from CAQH each time. Yet the banner remained. I was confused. I emailed Armpath to get some clarification. I asked for some clarification as to why this kept coming up, when on CAQH it said I had completed the steps. This felt like gaslighting. Then the silent treatment began. 

3. Silent treatment: “Your abuser stops all communication with you. This is to gain control over you, you are left wondering what happened.”

The banner remained on my account. I continued to re-attest on CAQH, get their confirmation, and email Armpath. As far as I knew, I was doing the right thing, following the steps, and CAQH was confirming I was successful. That is the word CAQH uses in their emails, “Successful Attestation”. Armpath would mark my question as “complete” on the contact form.

This emailing and attestation went on for four months. I have records of four months of this back and forth, with very little response from Armpath. 

4. Discarding: “Your abuser ends your relationship abruptly without warning. They are in a new relationship almost immediately.” 

One day, the banner on my Armpath account said, “Your account will be deleted tomorrow due to a lapse in credentialing.” I was stressed. I had been emailing about this issue for four months, had continuously gotten a “Successful” confirmation from CAQH, and had no real guidance from Armpath.

That week, I had seven people reach out for consultations. I had just changed my “accepting clients” status to open. I usually get several responses. This was great. I was looking forward to having the consultations with my potential clients. I reached out and spoke to some of them, agreeing to send them the confirmation for when we could follow up or start sessions via Armpath. Some of these people happened to have some traumatic histories. I made sure to follow up, as safety and trust are essential to the success of the therapeutic relationship.

The next day, my Armpath account was deleted. I could not access any of my client's information or log in to my account as a provider. I was nowhere to be found in the Armpath system, as far as I could see. I tried to reach out to the clients I had spoken to from the telephone numbers I had from our conversations to make sure they knew I had not intentionally dropped them. At the same time, I was getting emails from my current Armpath clients confirming meeting times or asking for reschedules, as is often the case. My current Armpath clients had no idea my account was erased. They assumed we were still meeting, but I could not log into my account.

I reached out to Armpath, sent emails, and waited. 

5. Hovering: “The abuser will beg for you back after they have left and humiliated you.”

When I finally heard back from Armpath, it was an email from someone interested in chatting about “signing me up.” I was confused. I had been with Armpath for three years at that point, yet this person had no idea. They thought they were signing up a new provider. 

Once on the phone, they spoke to me as if I were an Armpath “virgin,” ready to give me the spiel about the sign-on bonus. I was livid. I reiterated that I was already in an intimate working relationship with Armpath, and had been for three years. She could not find my account.

The girl was kind enough to try and get some additional help. More emails and contact forms followed. No real solutions. In the meantime, I had to let my Armpath clients know that our sessions would not be covered because Armpath had deleted my account. My clients said I was still on their portal as a provider. Armpath offered no explanation or communication to my clients.

How can a company that is entirely electronically based delete my account completely and be unable to access it? How could I have just disappeared from the system? In this day and age, where everything is logged and backed up? This did not make sense. 

I had to cancel sessions and figure out ways to support my clients and continue to see them, people I had seen weekly for three years for mental health needs, while Armpath did nothing to take any responsibility. I offered some super bills and adjusted rates for the time being. Armpath eventually let me know it would be forty-five days to get me “re-certified” with them. 

I emailed and consulted my lawyer because, as a mental health provider, I am responsible for people’s welfare. Armpath was not very worried about the impact on my clients. They simply wanted me to “join again” so they could continue to benefit from my work. There was no concern for the impact this event had on my practice, my clients, their mental health, and my stress levels.

I lost income, potential clients, and really possibly hurt some people's interest in finding therapy. From their perspective, I had “ghosted” them, but the truth was that Armpath erased me.

Armpath was eager to get me to join again. (Refer to step  #1 again) But, honestly, after the stress of it all,  I had to reevaluate my commitment to my practice and to the work that I love. I felt bullied. I was exhausted and stressed. I felt I had little control and all the responsibility. I was shocked at how this company was treating me.

To cut ties with Armpath and continue seeing all my clients, I would have to get credentialed independently with several insurers. This can take some time. I inquired about canceling my Armpath contract. People online shared that it took them months to get off their contract, because, well, there’s no one there to respond. The contact form is the only way to get hold of them. Unless you want to join, of course. In that case, a human magically appears.

This had been going on for more than six months when I was finally re-paneled. My clients thought they were ready to be seen, because on their end, nothing had been noted or changed, except for the period of radio silence from Armpath and my emails about the situation with my account.  

Clients were seeing we could meet, but no, we could not. I was re-paneled, but their new system had a “waiting list period” for new contracts. Guess who they did not notify about this change? My clients or me. . 

As it often goes with narcissistic abuse, the relationship lingers as the victim tries to figure out how to leave the relationship unharmed. I will hopefully break this relationship soon and will search for a healthier situation.  I am now hesitant to trust this type of venture capitalist mental health organization. I now sound like the providers who tried to warn me with their eyes years ago, but could not articulate the reasons. 

Not all mental health providers have had this same experience, but if you do a quick search online, you’ll see that I’m far from alone. Many organizations promise solutions to our very real problems with reimbursements and time demands. And many providers are having the same issue with their versions of Armpath. Some of them serve people well. For example, I have heard that “Soul” and “String Instrument” are pretty good for providers (faint memories of warning whispers and looks emerge).

 All I know is that I have lost trust in this type of solution and that I will now be one of the loud whispers of warning.

As therapists, we get into this business to help people, not to line the pockets of venture capitalist investors. I have nothing against making money or finding great solutions that are a win-win. But if you want to support therapists, you have to care about the people they support, too, not just the business model. There are real people and their mental health care that you are dealing with.