So I started with a new therapist last week.
That’s always fun.
After being in and out of therapy for the last thirty years or so, I know that shit happens. After all, therapists are people, too – they move, they get better jobs, they burn out, they retire, they suck, etc.
Let’s just say I’ve been through my share of them.
Up until a couple weeks ago, I was seeing a therapist named Christina. We had built up a great rapport over the prior fourteen months. I saw her every week.
About two months ago, she broke the news that she was leaving the agency. And, for reasons beyond my control (and hers), I would not be able to follow her to her new place of employment.
At least she gave me plenty of notice to get used to the idea of seeing someone else.
UNEXPECTED CONSEQUENCES
At first, it triggered a pretty deep depression. But a strange thing happened – it went away after only about two weeks. That never happens to me. My “episodes” last for months at least, more often years.
Apparently, this was a situational deal – which meant there was a discernible beginning, a middle, and then a (sudden) end to it. I like that much better than the nebulous, how-did-this-happen-when-did-it-start-I’m-always-going-to-feel-this-way-aren’t-I? type of depression.
Anyway, Christina really knew me well. That’s good in a therapist, but it can also be scary because, at times, I felt like she could read my mind – and I don’t always like what my mind is saying. In general, though, I felt very comfortable talking to her about pretty much anything.
Our last session was difficult. There was no crying involved (I waited until I got in the truck), but it was emotional and sad, and our goodbyes were heartfelt. She even gave me a card, which was unexpected and very sweet, with lots of positive writings in it. I gave her a hug.
KIM
For the last ten months, my therapy schedule has been DBT on Tuesdays, from 10 till noon; and individual therapy on Thursdays at 11. A little something you should know about me: I like routines and schedules. They help me focus and maybe even get some shit done. Otherwise, I feel like I’m just wandering through the day with no purpose and, subsequently, I get nothing done.
There are two DBT facilitators, Kim and Linda, and they both rock. They’re both right around my age. Linda is the very sincere, funny, honest, motherly-type. Kim is more of a peace-loving, meditating, born-ten-years-too-late-to-be-a-hippy woman. I love working with both of them.
Being in the DBT program requires weekly individual sessions with one of them so we can debrief about the skills we’ve been learning and practicing throughout the week. (Good thing I prefer working with women :).)
I chose to work with Kim because I’ve witnessed her be both gentle/sickeningly sweet/very understanding/very compassionate AND I’ve seen her metaphorically kick people in the ass if they need it. She’s very good at both. And I need both. I need someone who knows when to challenge me and when to back off. Also, someone who can handle it when my brain decides to take over and try to run the show.
I fully believe Linda can do both quite well, too. But there’s something about Kim’s wacky demeanor and her worldview that just drew me to work with her.
I’ve seen her twice now.
Both times have been…uncomfortable. I mean, it was good because we already knew each other somewhat. And it was not good because I don’t really know where to start. Has she committed my history to memory? (No, I don’t have an ego.) Has she even looked at my file yet? (I’m not insecure, either!) What does she know, what do I have to rehash, what can I blow off?
Naturally, I’ve had to go back over a lot of stuff with her, and I know it will take a long while to get to the point where we can just sit down and start working on the issue du jour. That means a lot of feelings will float (or explode) back to the surface, even though I’ve talked them to death over the last however many years. For now, though, we’re still in the getting-to-know-each-other phase.
I have discovered that most of my “issues” (said with a sneer) have deep roots, which means they’re not just one-and-done. It’s not like the light bulb finally comes on – aha! – and you’re at peace with all of your baggage.
No, life and humanness have to be more complicated than that. Especially with acceptance and forgiveness, it’s necessary to do them over and over and over again. It gets a little easier to deal with my shit each time (in theory, anyway), but it never really leaves me completely. It’s a part of my history. It has, in one way or another, helped shape who I’ve become.
How can I expect something to just magically be okay after “getting it” for only five minutes?
Anyway, because I have to tell her my life story now, it means I will be going through those experiences in my mind yet again. You know what that means, right? Yup. I’ll have to feel those feelings all over again, too.
In other words, I will feel vulnerable.
And who wants that??
Being vulnerable in therapy is good and bad, easy and hard, desirable and not so much. My psychiatrist calls it “mandated vulnerability”. I love that!
WHAT’S THE WORD FOR SOMEONE WHO CAN SEE RIGHT THROUGH YOU AND STILL THINKS YOU ARE WORTHY OF THEIR TIME AND EFFORT?
My problem with Kim is that she can see. right. through me. I told her that yesterday. She just smiled and said, “I’ve been around the block a few times.”
Although we lead terribly different lives, I think we have much in common. We are the same old soul, just in different bodies, learning different things at different speeds. Maybe that’s why I feel so drawn to work with her, yet am disquieted by her compassion and empathy at the same time.
Regardless, this is where I find myself. I’m at a fairly good place in life right now, and I want to take advantage of it to address some of my old behaviors and thought patterns, use the new skills I’ve been learning, and move forward with some modicum of confidence.
I’m looking forward to this part of my journey; I expect it to be interesting always, painful at times, and a lot of hard work. But I’m up for it.
I hope my new therapist is, too.
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Originally published on Depression Warrior
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