We’re off and running again

I started this post yesterday (10/29) and didn’t get the chance to finish it so it’s going to read as though it was written on Thursday rather than today (10/30).

Yesterday, before I could even get my bearings on the day, before I was truly settled in to my job, I missed a phone call from L’s office. There was a message that asked me to call back whenever possible.

I had a sinking feeling that turned out to be right. Turns out L is starting her maternity leave a little bit early, so my session today has been cancelled. There’s no more anticipation about this anymore, it’s happening. Whether I like it or not.

I immediately texted L to make sure she was okay. It seemed remarkably strange that she wasn’t the one cancelling our session, as she’s done in the past. For the rest of the day, I heard nothing, and I was pretty sure about what that meant.

She had to be in active labor.

I obsessively checked her instagram, waiting to see if my theory was correct and this morning, there was a picture of her little girl. She’s arrived.

This has left me with a lot of conflicting feelings. Today was supposed to be my last session, I was anticipating being able to sit with L and have some more time with her before she left. In fact, I should technically be in session right now. But I’m not. L is on leave, and I’m here again wishing that I didn’t feel so alone.

At least last time, I had L. I knew her from previous time working together so it wasn’t like she was a complete stranger. We had time to overlap and grow accustomed to each other before J left me behind.

This time? Not so much.

Let’s go back in time a little and I’ll tell you about the failed session with a potential replacement therapist and the semi-successful one with the woman I guess I’m stuck with for the next couple months.

I had to be the one to advocate for myself in this situation. It seemed like without me doing that I never would been placed with another provider and even if I did, it wouldn’t have been before L left. So yay me for speaking up for myself but also how frustrating that it wasn’t made a greater priority for us to be considered without me making it a thing.

The woman in charge of the practice, D, got back to me rather quickly. She found someone with an opening and placed me with her. At first, the session wasn’t supposed to be for even another week from now, but the next day the woman ended up calling me and asking me to come in the following day. AKA last Thursday.

I went in with an open mind, feeling like I owed this woman that much. As L had said, I probably wasn’t going to like anyone as much as her. So I expected to feel uncomfortable, a bit jittery.

What I was not expecting was to outright dislike the woman. But well, the story wouldn’t have been any fun otherwise, right? M was an older woman, at least compared to J and L. She was probably in her 40’s if I had to guess. She sat with a notebook that she never took notes in (what was the point?) and we had our first and only session.

The woman was clearly put off by me. She tried to act as if she wasn’t, but I have a sixth sense for when people are uncomfortable or feel awkward and M was practically exuding it from all her pores. It was clear and it became more clear as we went along.

We talked about my job for a good seven minutes before she’d asked anything about me, which felt weird. Still, I tried to rationalize it. She’s just learning about me, nothing wrong with that.

But of course, it got worse.

First, although I didn’t know this at the time, she lied to me. I asked her if she’d talked to L about me. She admitted that she had but told me L hadn’t said very much at all. Come to find out with L later that night that she had told the woman about my diagnoses and attachment concerns that she pretended not to know about.

She also told the woman not to bullshit me. So, M was clearly 0 for 2 on that one.

What really got me was that she did not seem to understand my attachment-related problems, which is obviously a really big piece of working with me. She kept asking me questions about what I expected from a therapeutic relationship. It sounds innocuous, but her tone wasn’t kind or curious. It was judgmental. She seemed to want to make sure I shouldn’t feel entitled to more than was normal.

That’s the thing. I felt like I was being judged the entire time of the session. It felt more like I was being sized up and M was trying to discern whether she’d like to work with me, as opposed to helping me figure out if she was a good fit for me.

And at one point, as I was telling her about how my relationship with L began as a way to consider whether J and I needed to end our working relationship, she said “so you cheated on your therapist.”

Dear therapists who do not know how to work with attachment, that is not what you want to say to someone whose relationship with therapist is paramount to their being. It doesn’t lend well to making us feel understood.

Eventually she realized she’d messed up and apologized but the damage was done at that point and I’d already made my decision.

Typing this all back, it doesn’t really sound as bad as it felt in the moment. When I first started with J and then with L, there was a certain level of comfort that just wasn’t there with M. She seemed uncomfortable and it permeated the whole atmosphere until I felt that way too.

Later, I found out that she had been nervous when L told her about my attachment stuff, because she’d never really worked with that before. Put simply, I think she was scared of me and what working with me might mean for her. At the very end, she said to let her know if I wanted to meet again, but she understood if I had concerns.

I think she had just as many concerns and it made me feel a whole ton of shame. I left the session feeling defeated and like I was about to be stuck in a terrible position. This was the woman I’d been placed with, what was I supposed to do?

In a flurry of anxiety, I did decide to make another phone call to D. In my message, I explained I didn’t think M and I were a good fit for each other and was there any way she could place me with someone else? I also apologized about 300 times because I felt like such a burden for asking.

L was great during our session later that night. I thought she might chastise me for not giving the woman a chance, but she as it turns out also had her reservations about M after talking to her. So while I don’t think she was entirely surprised, she was equally appalled by the things I told her about my session.

During that session, which was telehealth, D ended up calling me back. She was kind enough to hop on the end of my session with L and talk to both of us to find a suitable person for me to work with instead. This time, L had someone to recommend (which, why wouldn’t she just do that in the first place?) and so D reached out to her to see if I could slip into her caseload.

So last Friday I met with another L. L2 as I guess I’m going to call her. That’s probably going to be confusing but I really don’t know what else to use.

L2 was immediately better than M. She just had a caring tone about her that was encouraging at least. I was open and honest with her, she took whatever I threw her way without seeming too fazed by it. There wasn’t anything particularly eventful about our session. It was normal, but of course felt weird because I didn’t know this person at all.

The only thing that really stuck out to me was that L2 does not allow for texting in between sessions, so that’s going to be a huge adjustment. Especially considering right after I finished my session with L2 I texted L feeling overwhelmed at the prospect of her being gone.

Her response? Remember this is simply a placeholder! In a few months I’ll return and you’ll have the L experience again, haha. Until then I encourage you to lean into this. L2 will more definitely provide you a safe place to hold your feelings, but I totally get that the same level of comfort is not there right not and that can be very scary.

See how wonderful she is? Why would I want to open up and be real with anyone but her for the next couple months?

Then there’s the other thing. L2 is only working on telehealth, so I’m back to that. No in-person therapy for the foreseeable future. As if I needed another blow. That one has been sitting particularly poorly with me, because I really hate telehealth, but I felt like I had no choice to say yes to the person L recommended.

So there we have it, I’m back on the maternity leave train, full steam ahead. Preparing for my next session with L2 and hoping to feel marginally better about it afterward.

I still have more to post about what ended up being my final session with L, but this post is getting long so I’m going to return to that one later.

L

Dear L,

How is it that I’m here writing another letter to my therapist who is going on leave? It feels so much like deja vu, even though all the things are different this time. You’ve promised me they are and I’m trying to believe you.

We’ve been through a lot together in only a short period of time. I knew that it was important to find a way to share with you all the feelings that I have about our relationship and what it’s given me before we are apart for a short time. I don’t know how to properly express the gratitude that I have for you, the significance with which you’ve changed my life, but I’m going to try.

You came into my life in such a strange way and for such an odd reason. Who needs a therapist to fix their relationship with another therapist? Well, I did and you filled that role for me, then became so much more. I could never have guessed when we began together the course our relationship would take.

I think what I love most about our relationship is how easy it is. It wasn’t always that way, you and I both know it took time for me to unravel bit by bit until I was willing to show that vulnerability. I remember how challenging that was for me in the beginning to talk about the deep stuff. Even the thought of crying in front of you was scary to me.

But now? I say it all, every little thing, even when I don’t know how it might be received. I cry, even when I don’t want to. I share every detail with you, even if I’m afraid. I say it and you’ve always shown me that sharing a truth doesn’t mean the world falls away at my feet.

When I was at my most vulnerable and I needed someone to be there, and then when I felt more abandoned than any other point in my life, you stepped up without any hesitation. You were more than happy to play whatever part I needed in my healing and the level of care was evident from day one. You have become so much more than a “substitute” or a “replacement.” You have become my person – the one I feel the safest with, and the one I trust more than anyone.

I never ever could have thought I could handle being without J. Not for six months, and certainly not for the foreseeable future. You were there to prove me wrong, thank you for that. You taught me that I could invest myself in more than one relationship like this and that both could be solid.

If I had to find a silver lining in this whole mess of the last year, it’s you. Something that I thought would break me became survivable because I had you by my side to make it that way. You can tell me all you want that I’m the strong and resilient one, but you are the person that pulls it out of me. You are my biggest cheerleader. The positive one for both of us.

We’ve always had a different relationship than I’ve had with J, one that’s almost more mature. Like I’ve told you, I’ve never been angry with you at the same intensity. I don’t hold onto negative feelings because I know that you’ll be there to hear me out when I have the courage to state my truth. You’ll listen without judgment and validate, no matter what.

Even now, when I’m struggling with anger at you for leaving, I know just as much that the reason I’m so angry is because our relationship is so important to me and I don’t want to be without it, even temporarily.

But I know we’ll survive that, just like we’ve survived everything else. Nothing seems to be able to push you away, regardless of my fears.

I don’t know if I’ve ever told you this before, but I think that as much as I’ve struggled with losing J, I’ve also known that you are the right person to be on this journey with me right now, maybe even more so than J. Obviously that relationship is incredibly important to me, but I can see the benefits of ours highlighted too.

You read me so well it’s honestly scary sometimes and your insights have broadened my perspectives in so many ways. There have been so many times when I’ve been completely sure that there was only one way to view a situation, usually from a defeated and frustrated standpoint. Once we’d talked and you had your chance to examine the problem, you could create a completely different explanation, one that instilled hope I didn’t know could exist.

You mean the world to me, L. I’ve said it before and I don’t think it can be understated. You can try to downplay who you are and what you’ve done, but I’ll build you up the same way you do for me.

Thank you. A million times thank you. For every single late night text that you’ve listened and answered with something comforting. For every reminder that you’re still there, we’re okay and safe. For knowing when I need a hug. For showing the human side of yourself. For being the only human on this planet who laughs at my stupid jokes. For reminding me that I’m not some horrible awful monster, and instead giving me better words to use.

Thank you for not being afraid of me. Thank you for not seeing me as some difficult client and not treating me like one. I know that I can be a lot because I feel all the things. And yet, you never waver, You always validate my feelings, always see the reasons behind them. You make me feel like I’m not crazy for having whatever feelings I have. There’s no greater feeling than being understood that way.

I truly believe our relationship is special. Not the same way it was with J, in a whole different and equally wonderful way. In a way that speaks to true connection. In a way that I will notice it’s absence for the next three months, no matter how “okay” I may be. There’s not another you, and that will take some getting used to.

No matter what feelings I’ve had around your leaving, please know that I am so happy for you to be able to become a mother and experience that joy. I believe so strongly that your little girl will be super lucky because she’s going to have a kick-ass mom like you who can raise her to be the assertive, confident, and compassionate person you’re teaching me to be.

I know that you know that though, because two things can be true.

Sending you so much love and good vibes for the next three months. I can’t wait until I am treated with the “L experience” again. Until then, I’ll be using every tool you’ve taught me, and missing you a hell of a lot.

All the best,

M

I’m Not Ready

As I head into week two of my last three weeks with L, I find myself dealing with conflicting feelings of anger, apathy, and attachment.

Last week, I had two telehealth sessions with L. One on Monday, one on Thursday. Monday’s session was uneventful; I spent most of the time either crying about her leaving or complaining that we were back to a platform that I abhor.

Thursday things got a little stickier. My wall was up from the beginning, and I think that was because I spent most of my afternoon walk thinking about her leave. I’d worked my way through the casual ‘well, it’ll be okay, I can survive this’ thoughts and was steeping higher and higher into anger. The ‘it’s not fair that I have to deal with this’ thoughts.

L didn’t recognize that my wall was up. While she burned through topics, I said little and tried to make sure to smile here and there. She thought I didn’t have much to talk about, because that’s the story I was telling: that I’d hit a place of steadiness. Really though, I just didn’t want to dig deep into my feelings. It felt pointless. So I acted like everything was fine and for a first, she believed it. I think it’s easier to hide under the hood of telehealth.

About halfway through, it came up that I could ask her boss if I wanted more information about who I was going to be placed with while she was gone. I don’t think we were even talking about it, but maybe we were, I can’t remember anymore.

Up until now, I’ve been waiting on the information that information from her so I was surprised and confused that I was being diverted.

After that conversation came up, L was ready to move on pretty quickly. She thought she was just relaying information for me. I on the other hand was feeling the rise of a discomfort that had been sitting with me for the last couple weeks. The discomfort that multiplies every time I’ve been told that she still doesn’t know anything about who I’m going to see.

This has been an issue for a couple months. I’ve wanted answers about the substitute therapist and keep getting told that it’ll happen soon. That I would know when she knew. First, she said that she would start looking into it during September. Then suddenly it was October and we still didn’t know anything. As time has ticked closer and closer to the start of another period without my safe person, I’ve felt the anticipation grow monumentally.

Anticipation is a huge trigger and L knows it.

So when there was still nothing and now suddenly it was up to me to contact this person that I don’t know at all (which I would never have the courage to do), I had just had it. I felt completely abandoned before she was even gone.

L usually handles everything I have to say very well, even when it has to do with her. I decided that I wasn’t going to keep my feelings to myself; I’d talk about them instead. Maybe something good would come of it.

Nervously, I admitted to her that I’ve felt like something of an afterthought during this whole situation. She wanted to know why and I told her everything listed above. I told her that I felt like this object, that it was a chore to figure out what to do with me.

We went back and forth for a little bit, where she mostly just reiterated everything she’d already said. She emphasized that I’m not an object, I’m a client. You’d think that would have helped, you really would. No such luck.

I can’t remember her exact words, but I know that I felt like something like rejection. I felt like she was clinging to the boundaries, clearly stating her limits, which was something she never does and just made me feel like an asshole for expressing how I felt. Like I was asking too much from her.

I was upset and unable to hide it. My face isn’t particularly skilled in that area. Once she called me out on that, I tried to escape. I didn’t want to talk about it anymore because I regretted saying anything.

She seemed confused, maybe annoyed, and asked one of my least favorite questions a therapist can ask in my opinion. “Well, what did you want me to say?”

I get it, she was just asking what would have helped, trying to figure out what I needed, but that’s not how I interpreted it. I heard it as “well, what do you want from me?”

Now, I wasn’t sure exactly in the moment how to answer that question and I still don’t have the clearest idea. I admitted then that there might have been no response from her that would have been helpful, maybe I just needed validation and not justification.

In fairness, she did validate (twice) that it was okay to feel how I was feeling. I just couldn’t take that in on top of her jumping to her own defense, because that action told me I had done something wrong.

I guess it just made me feel like she didn’t really care how it ended up. I felt like she wasn’t going to fight for me to get what I needed, even knowing how badly this is affecting me, and was ready to bow out.

It was a reminder again that I’m “just a client.” Our relationship that means so much to me is insignificant in comparison now that she’s going to have a child in her life. She’s already switched gears to that.

My mind jumped to J. How she told me she’d come back and then didn’t. You never know how having a child will change you. This is what I keep telling L. I just have this horrible feeling that she’s going to end up taking more time to be with her daughter. Or that something will happen and she won’t come back at all.

So I don’t know where we stand come tomorrow. She promised me things are okay between us, that I can be angry with her and it doesn’t derail our relationship. I want to believe her, but the minions are very loud.

I’m so ready for this whole nightmare to be over.

Some words on a post

I told myself that if I was going to get one thing done today, it was going to be to write a post. It’s been almost a month since I’ve done anything blog-related and as it’s been for awhile, that’s because I’m struggling to get the words out.

I simply haven’t had the energy or stamina to read or write or do very much at all. In fact, lately I’ve been sleeping more and more. Dr. N thinks the medications might be playing a role here, but she isn’t sure and doesn’t want to mess with whatever progress the meds had made.

A lot feels like it’s going on, even though I’m not actually that busy. I guess the main thing is this feeling of grief that keeps permeating my world, for many reasons.

Here’s the biggest one: I’ve got three weeks – six sessions – until L goes on her maternity leave. I like to think that I’m managing it okay, but in reality I’m reduced to tears almost every session thinking about it. No matter how many times she promises to come back, I have a hard time believing her.

Even if she does come back, I don’t know what life is going to look like. She seems confident in our ability to repair whatever feelings come between us during this break. She says it doesn’t bother her if I don’t like her or if I’m angry at her. I know she means it, but I still worry that her becoming a mother is going to somehow change her willingness to want to deal with me.

So that is the anticipation of loss, made worse by the fact that I still don’t know anything about the person I’ll be seeing while L is gone. It’s very much up to her boss to assign me to someone and I feel like a child that needs to be babysat for a few months, someone who is just a chore to shuffle from person to person.

Speaking of babysitting, it seems that my time with the girls has officially run out. I’m no longer with them after school and the circumstances surrounding that have been rather frustrating.

I can’t remember if I posted about it then, but when the school year started at the end of August, I was left in the dark about it. Their mother sent me a couple “first day” pictures hours after I’d already discovered them on Facebook. That was the first clue that perhaps I was being let go.

What’s bothered me most about this is that she never gave me the courtesy of formally pink-slipping me. I had to ask on the first day of school and even then I was put off for a couple weeks, told we’d talk then. I didn’t hear from her for a month and only then to be invited to one of the kids’ games.

So finally I confronted her last week via text. I asked her to please give me a solid answer about whether I was being let go. L had encouraged this for awhile but I just couldn’t stand the idea of reading it in black and white. However, I knew how much it was truly eating away at me and that I had to advocate for myself.

Her response was that in no way was I being let go, but also that I wasn’t needed. Those two things seemed to contradict each other, but I didn’t question her. It wasn’t worth an argument. Just another person who can’t be upfront with me about what’s going to happen in a timely manner because they’re too afraid of hurting me to tell me the truth.

Yeah, I’m calling J out there. It’s easy to do, since I’ve been pretty angry with her lately for leaving me. I go back and forth, but the pendulum has swung into the territory of anger, especially as we get closer to L leaving because J was supposed to be there for that and she’s not.

Anyway, L was the one who noticed the parallel between the two situations. Both of them knew the direction they were going to take their lives, both of which didn’t include me, for an ambiguous period of time. And both had to be contacted by me instead of having the courage to be honest to my face (or at least over the phone). It feels like both situations were more about mollifying their own fears rather than considering my feelings.

I could probably fixate on that for the rest of this post, but I’ve spent enough time talking about it in therapy.

In case you are curious, I did end up trying to cancel my session after L cancelled on me when she had to put her cat down. I made it all the way through calling out and sitting with that for a couple days, but by the day before my session the attached parts of me were screaming . They didn’t want to be without L, even for a few more days. So I was convinced to text her.

I just want to highlight how wonderful L is for a moment here, because when I texted her to see if my slot was still available and admitted that I had been out of my window, trying to punish myself and give her a repreive all in one, this was her response:

L: Oh my goodness, girl come to your appointment! I don’t hate you at all or have any ill feelings, I promise! I appreciate the honestly.

I continued apologizing, as I was sure this would be the thing that made me “too much” and stopped her from wanting to work with me. I was basically spinning out at this point.

L: There is no need to apologize! Remember two things can be true, you can sympathize with my loss, and be pissed and upset that it cuts into your therapy time. You’re entitled to all of your feelings...I’m marking you as active tomorrow, so you’d better show up!

The amount of care behind that response, the way that she somehow validated everything and also made me feel like she genuinely wanted me to be there, it made me feel so accepted. Not tolerated. Not dealt with. Accepted, for all my flaws and all my insecurities.

It still amazes me that I ended up with this woman in my life purely by accident. As much as the difficult period with J was…well, difficult, I wouldn’t have L without that need for a second opinion.

She’s been there for me in other ways too, quietly shouldering my pain and reminding me why hurting myself isn’t a viable option, that “my feelings aren’t worth relapsing,” and “I matter so much more than that.” I haven’t relapsed, I’m 18 months clear of self-harm. I don’t know what I’m going to do when I lose this text access, because it’s been part of my stability.

As I was typing this post, I got a text from L that her office is going to be closed for at least the next two weeks because there was a COVID-related incident. So I may not see her again before she leaves. And now I don’t know how I’m going to make my appointments happen since they were supposed to be right after work.

I’m so frustrated.