I’m working on a blog about how boundaries in therapy aren’t one size fits all. But, while writing that blog, something else kept weighing on me heavily. Something I’ve avoided talking about.
I’ve been going through a lot of transition with therapists lately. I started seeing J this summer. And we had about 3 or 4 good months of working together until I hit a financial rough patch. I paused my work with her and started seeing a practicum student at the practice where I do group. It was nice to chat with someone weekly but I didn’t really feel like I was making progress. So, I started the search for someone on my insurance, still thinking the pause with J was just that: a pause.
I talked with J, however, and she decided that it made more sense to let me go… to terminate the therapeutic relationship. Her reasons:
1) scheduling: she thought I’d be able to find someone with more availability (I’ve only found someone with less).
2) money: she thought it would be less of a financial burden for me to see someone on my insurance (that part is true).
3) the relationship: she thought that I wasn’t getting what I needed out of our relationship and that it would be better for me if I was set free to start a new relationship (not true, because now I don’t want to let anyone else in… seems to me she just proved everyone gives up or leaves. So, why should I bother?).
I will probably never agree that the decision she made on my behalf was the right decision for me. I had worked the financial piece out but she didn’t really care about that. What my mind tells me is that she didn’t really enjoy working with me and she saw a chance to get rid of me, so she did. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy. Now I am no longer her problem and she got to say she didn’t abandon me and she behaved ethically.
For me, I feel abandoned. I found someone on my insurance. I see her weekly (minus the holidays). And she is perfectly nice and skilled. But, I’m not convinced I’ll ever have the same level of faith in the therapeutic relationship that I once did. I don’t know if I’ll ever feel driven to be that vulnerable again.
I know it doesn’t make sense and I know it is a perfect example of my emotional dysregulation but I literally want to die. Not just because of the J thing (my life has been a shitshow lately) but in part because of that. I feel hopeless. I feel broken. I feel like too much.
So, now that is out, maybe I’ll be able to focus on writing the blog post I set out to write.