Sarafina Bianco asks if it’s okay to grieve the loss of your therapist as if he or she were your friend.
___
I graduated from trauma therapy in late July. Three years of individual work, finishing it with EMDR to battle my post-traumatic stress disorder. My therapist and I worked together through my late twenties, when I refused to date and, sometimes, refused to shower. She helped me get a grasp on why I was depressed after I left my abuser, how I could learn to trust others, and she even told me when she felt I was safe to start dating again.
When you think about it, I spent more time with her than I’m able to spend with friends and family anymore.
|
For three years, I sat with her for an hour each week, detailing the goings-on of my life. When you think about it that way, I spent more time with her than I’m able to spend with friends and family anymore. She saw me. Good and bad. Made up and dressed down. Crying and laughing. She saw it all. In our final visit, she asked me how I planned to take back my time. What would I do with an extra hour every week? I asked myself the same question. Fortunately for me, my summer was full of weddings: wedding showers, bachelorette parties, and the main event. So last week, when I hit a lull in our weekend activities, I didn’t notice that I’d started eating badly and even considered taking up smoking again. On Friday I sat with Taco Bell wrappers around me, thinking about how unusual it was for me to eat unhealthy foods now. How I only did it when I was depressed. And that’s when I realized I hadn’t truly coped with the fact that I would probably never see my therapist again.
♦◊♦
It’s funny, the relationships we form with people we spend so much time with. How seemingly negative it can be to force ourselves to make life better. We don’t talk about therapy and how liberating it can be. And so it’s probably really uncommon for people to outright say they miss their therapist. But I do.
But most of all, I miss the constant. That’s what she was: a constant spark of truth, positivity and non-judgment.
|
I miss her wisdom. I miss the occasional use of profane language when I would share one of my darker moments. I miss watching her life unfold, too. But most of all, I miss the constant. That’s what she was: a constant spark of truth, positivity and non-judgment. She told me a few sessions before we stopped seeing one another that we had the opportunity to make our last session a goodbye worth remembering, and that chance doesn’t present itself often in life. It’s so much more common to feel sadness and seek closure. Yet, in our relationship, we could leave it wherever we wanted. And so on the last day of my life with her, we reminisced about where I started, how far I’d come, and where I was headed. She shared a few kind words, ones I’ll hold inside me forever, and thanked me for allowing her to be a part of my life for so long. And she asked me the same question again.
“What are you going to do with an extra hour every week?”
|
“What are you going to do with an extra hour every week?” The best answer I could muster seemed to resonate with her, even though she’s not truly supposed to show much reaction to what I say. I was going to use the time to take care of myself, to further my betterment and learn how to cope with life after therapy, when I would be responsible for myself and didn’t have her as a sounding board any longer. For the first month I found it easy. But now it’s getting harder.
♦◊♦
For those of you who can relate, and I’m sure you’re out there even if you don’t want to admit it, I’m making these promises to myself for the rest of the year.
-
I will do one thing every Wednesday for myself.
It might be as simple as being sure I drink enough water that day, but it’s something different from the usual. Something that helps me see I can do this on my own.
-
I will accept that it’s normal to feel sadness when I think about the relationship I’ve lost.
Because that’s what’s happened, whether it’s because I’m in a better place or not. I’ve lost someone who was incredibly significant in my life. And it’s okay to feel sadness when I think about that part.
-
I will also accept that feeling sadness is progress for me.
What I mean to say is: before I would have hidden that away, ashamed of my inability to be perfect and normal. Now? I’ll cry if it helps. I’ll allow myself to feel it so I can move past it sooner.
-
I will thank my lucky stars I am where I am.
Because without our time together, I’d still be traumatized. I wouldn’t have dated and then married the love of my life. I wouldn’t have changed careers because I couldn’t trust myself and my instincts. And I wouldn’t be able to open up so honestly about something so personal on such a large scale.
Photo—Samantha Evans Photography/Flickr
Sometimes I go see my therapist when I’m in a good place. Kind of like maintenance for the car. Or touching up your roots. I just go to check in and have that uninterrupted, all-about-me hour with someone who knows me so well.
I love her advice of “banking” the hour. You could do the same with the fee 🙂
Good call, Suanne.
I’m sure the female readers will get a lot out of this. Thanks for sharing
I’m a man, Tom. She totally hit the mark. But that’s only my MANpinion.
Alas, I’m trying to imagine a humanity that is exclusively male. It’s not working.
Cab …. it has nothing to do with “exclusively male” but men/boys are different, they think differently and as a counselor for adolescent males for many years, the guys do work betting in our setting when they’re dealing with male staff. This was about a female and her relationship and I’m fine with that.
It’s like male breast cancer patients, they have to go to women’s clinics for treatment. Don’t ya think it’s time to start treating men as men and not try to fit them into a general setting that tries to fit everyone?
I hope that it resonates with more than just female readers, Tom. Thanks for stopping by to read. I’m not entirely sure I understand what your last comment about “treating men as men” means. My gut reaction is that you’re (and I acknowledge I’m probably misinterpreting it) saying all men should be treated the same, and I feel like that’s a dangerous statement. My experience in therapy, specifically trauma therapy, was VERY different than when I’ve seen other counselors because the work we did was nothing like any I’d done before. I believe this can resonate with anyone who has… Read more »
Thank you for writing about the special relationship a therapist and client can have- it sounds like she was a special person. If it helps, we too feel sadness and loss when saying goodbye to our longtime clients. But we also feel joy and fortitude at the healing and progress that goes with that kind of relationship. I am humbled, honored and blessed to be such an intimate part of the lives of my clients. Goodbye is bittersweet for us too, when the therapist allows an authentic connection to occur.