One of the things I realized early on in the moving process was that there is a heck of a lot of goodbyes to say. In every facet of my life, there are people who I’ve built relationships with who I now have to say goodbye to. Many of the goodbyes are temporary ones. They are people who I will not see as often but I will see them again (parents, sisters and good friends). Some of the goodbyes may be for forever goodbyes – one such goodbye has really stuck with me. How do you say goodbye to your therapist?
A few weeks ago, I went to my last session with my therapist Connie, and told her that I would be leaving for Alabama within the month. For once it was Connie who looked distraught. “This can’t be our last session. I wasn’t ready for it.”
Connie’s reaction got me thinking. With all of my other “service” relationships in my life I either will see these people again when I come to town (I am so making an appointment with my esthetician and hairdresser whenever I come back to Plymouth) or else they were not very consequential in my life so it’s not that big of a deal. My relationship with her is very unique though.
I’ve been with Connie for nearly twelve years. That is longer than many of my friendships. I first came to her in early 2000 after a series of breakups with a series of boyfriends. I had started to come to the conclusion that maybe it wasn’t “them” as much as it was me that was the issue. The constant in all of the breakups was me. So, being the perfectionist Virgo that I am, I decided that therapy would be a great idea.
When our first session was over – after I had gone into great detail about exactly why I was there, feeling slightly embarrassed about the number of boyfriends and scenarios I had just rattled off to her – I asked her with great trepidation, “Am I crazy?” Bless her heart; she said “you are about the least crazy person I think I know.” Phew.
I suppose I could have just taken that as I sign that all was well and that I didn’t need therapy after all (just better judgment when it came to men), but here’s the thing… I really liked my new therapist. I enjoyed our session. I looked forward to future sessions. So, I continued to see her for almost twelve years, calling it my mental hygiene.
For nearly twelve years I have poured my heart out to this wonderful listener. I have been able to tell her my heart's desires, my sorrows, my fears, my joys, my everything. Now, I have to walk away and possibly never see her again. I know that there is a professional line between a therapist and a client that must never be crossed; that they must not become friends. But, what if I was no longer her client? Could I ask her to stay in touch with me? Would it be weird? Is it inappropriate? It’s such an awkward conversation to bring up to my therapist.
Suppose we did stay in touch. Then what? Our relationship has been based on one-sided conversations (essentially) for nearly twelve years. Can you change the nature of a friendship? All of these questions have been swirling around in my mind. It occurs to me that now I will need a therapist to help me get over my therapist. How ironic is that?
It is so lame to feel sad about my adult daughter moving off to a new city, but there is some of that going on. Ellie living in Japan gives me some hope that I can maintain a close relationship at a distance, but I'm still feeling anxiety, and i've no therapist! I remember when she went to college. She was only about 40 miles away, I was crying all the time. I did wonder why I was so upset she was going to college, not running away or or doing something awful, we hadn't argued...but I cried when people asked how is Artemis?
ReplyDelete