Reducing Sessions

The last week in therapy has been good. Not easy by any measure, but I’ve felt safe and contained while in that room. J and I have been working well together, a true team effort. I have felt like she has been attuned to my needs and I’ve been making efforts to talk about things even when they are difficult.

There’s a change coming though.

I’ve been seeing J twice a week for about three months now. It was an increase I had been dying to make and I was so happy to be able to do it once the demands of internship died down.

The first week of September, I’m going to have to go back to once a week sessions. This is the give and take of me choosing to stay with the girls as their babysitter in the afternoons. My schedule just won’t allow for anything else but that one day.

To say I’m dreading going back to once a week sessions would be an understatement. Yesterday, J told me that she has a conflict in her Monday schedule next week, meaning she’s out of the office all day. I have a conflict at my normal Thursday time, so we managed to find time on Wednesday. You’d think that would be a relief to me to see her at all, but all I could think was that this was supposed to be one of my last two weeks of double sessions. I left her office near tears and had to take a few minutes to let the emotion dissipate.

The truth is, I’ve been spoiled with the ability to see her twice a week and get that extra dose of support. To know that she’d be there twice a week, in spite of every awful feeling, was a huge relief. Even when things were difficult between us, I kept going. Going is always better than not going.

One session a week just does not feel like enough time anymore.

An hour is not enough time. It was, for over a year and a half, but now I’ve seen what it’s like to get twice that. I’ve felt the effects of having enough time to consult the DBT workbook and delve into the other things that are bothering me. Now, I feel like I’ll constantly be focused on the clock, worrying about how to fit everything in to that short little time period. Do we talk about skills or do we talk about something pertinent in my life? How do we find the space to give every subject the time it deserves?

Plus ugh, just thinking about having to contain all those big feelings for seven whole days. To pack them away and leave knowing it will be a whole week before I can let it out again. That used to feel like a fairly manageable period of time for me, but now I’m used to only three or four days. By comparison, a week feels endless.

Thank you to my attachment issues for that difficult feeling.

I almost wish I’d never taken on double sessions in the first place. Obviously, I don’t really wish that, because I’m grateful for the extra time I’ve gotten with J to work on things. I’m grateful I had the opportunity at all and the financial means to make it happen. I see the fruits of all those bonus sessions we had.

It’s just very hard. What I really wish is that I didn’t have to make this change on top of an already very taxing transition into a new job. I need J by my side for that more, not less.

I’ve tried thinking about ways to make up for what feels like a deficit. Seeing if there’s a way to do 90 minute sessions instead of 60. Asking for a 10 minute check-in another day during the week and paying for that time. I’ve already asked that if she’s able and willing to extend her hours so could do a double even once a month to let me know. That doesn’t feel particularly likely, but I figured it was worth a shot since I’ve seen her take people in the session after me before.

I’ll have to deal, because it’s not like there’s any other choice. I survived off of one session a week for a long time, so I’ll adapt back into that place. I know that I’ll be okay. I’m strong and I can handle carrying this myself. I’m persistent and I can keep fighting, even when it’s tough. I work hard and that will get me through the transition. I can be kind to myself in each day to my next session.

I don’t necessarily want to do any of that, but I can. I will be okay. I will be okay. I will be okay. I’m repeating that more to convince myself then to convince all of you.

But right now, it still feels like a huge loss.