One, Two Three Therapists You're Out
I have a new therapist. She's my third since I started therapy two years ago. Apparently my life is so fucked up that they can only handle a year before dumping me.
It's a lot of work breaking in a therapist. There's a trust and bonding process that takes some time. It's usually over a particular issue but you never know what that will be until it happens. I do know this...three is enough. This is my final therapist.
My first therapist was very young. She was just out of grad school when we met. We were both new at this and broke each other in. We lost our therapy virginity to each other. It's hard to forget your first.
I even had a little crush on her. Imagine telling a woman your most personal thoughts and she supports those unconditionally. It's easy to get hooked. A friend teased me about dressing nice and wearing my contacts when I went to therapy...and she was right.
After a year she took a job at a hospital doing emergency therapy. She was going to be working with attempted suicides and drug overdoses. I couldn't convince her I had either of those problems, so it was on to number two!
With the second one it took longer to bond. It wasn't that I didn't trust her, but my comfort level just wasn't there. It got to the point where I told her I wanted to cut back on my sessions. She said to give it a little more time.
And then we had our moment.
In every relationship there's a moment where you figure out it's working. It doesn't matter if it's a friendship, romance or with a therapist, it's there.
One day I started talking about my father. What started as a casual conversation turned into three sessions of pain and anguish. Every time I looked in her face I could see sympathy, empathy and support. She could feel my hurt and was basically holding my hand throughout it. ....And that was our bonding moment,
From that point on we talked about everything. Parents, death, children, siblings, death, women, sex..with and without partners.., shelters, California and death. Yeah I'm a little preoccupied with one of those things. You name it, we went there. Good and bad.
We had our final session last week. The last half hour we recapped our relationship and the work. I was fine until she took the last five minutes to say she'll miss me and was sorry she won't get to see how my life turns out.
Damn!! Why do all the women in my life get to have the fucking final word??
It shook me enough that I forgot to thank her for everything. So I'm doing that now....in front of a lot of people who live in dozens of different countries. Thank You!
It's on to therapist #3. OY!!
I just finished my third session with her and I have no idea when we'll have that bonding moment...or if we'll have that bonding moment. But I did notice that I now feel better than I did after the first two sessions and am more at ease. Plus, she's now stopped calling me Mr. Moore...a good sign...sigh.
Hmmmm....maybe we'll get there sooner than later. Maybe I'll wear my contacts next week. I wonder how she feels about hugging?
Talking about hugging your therapist, this is what I wrote when trying to figure out it's okay.
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