15 May 2025
I’ve been in therapy for a little over a year now and today’s session included me admitting that I realize I have abandonment issues. So original.
If you knew me in real life, that’s not something you would expect to be my reality, and if you knew me in real life you might be tempted to mansplain my own experiences to me. If you did either of these things you’d be shit and I’d either not have spoken to you in enough years that you don’t *actually* know me anymore and/or are family and I can’t write you off. (I can, technically, but it’s not something I know I can do without having regrets. Damn my bleeding heart.)
One of the places I’ve known abandonment is through previous therapists who somehow heard what I told them and thought, actually you’re doing just fine. What she told me was, “You have really good instincts. I don’t think you need me anymore.” When I heard that I just said, “okay, thank you” because I’m not one for challenging authority. I’m more of the working-really-hard-to-make-sure-you-like-me-and-don’t-dread-when-you-see-my-name-come-up-on-your-calender type. What I was thinking was, “you just diagnosed me with OCD during a global pandemic two sessions ago and also, is there any hope if you’re saying I have good instincts and no longer need therapy after three months while I’m also still trying to convince myself life is worth living?”
Ironically, what got me to give therapy another try was a guy. It’s ironic because if you knew me, truly or not, you’d know I’ve never had a boyfriend. *gasp* So when there was this perfectly lovely guy who was interested in me and vetted by a dear friend, I didn’t feel I really had any reason not to date him except that my scalp felt tingly? I don’t know how else to explain it. Anyway, I found my current therapist based off vibes and its seemed to work out. I’m still low key afraid she’ll decide I’m fine and we’re finished, even though the last time I expressed this she said, “Well, you are fine, and we’re not finished.” Bless her.
There’s been less than a handful of sessions that have caused her to make a comment in the realm of, “I’ve never seen you like this before” which I take to mean she’s worried about me in that moment and can tell I am in the thick of the darkness. Today’s choice of words was, “I don’t often see you like this”, because we have been here before, but it is indeed a rare state of being. I tend to err on the side of optimism, yet if you know me you know I’m a walking oxymoron and my life is full of juxtapositions.
Today, I started the session convinced this would be the time I signed off and felt no better than when we began. I knew there would be nothing she would be able to do for me—there’s nothing anyone can do for me and that’s pretty much the whole reason I’m in this mess—and I was certain I would feel nothing but defeated. I’d been working for an entire week to try and find any sort of optimism, a sliver of hope to hold onto and time and time again my hands came up empty.
At one point, I equated my experience to toilet paper, because if you’re not laughing you’re crying, right? And she saw right through my facade and made the most incredible comment that I swear will be the title of my memoir if I were ever interesting enough to actually write a memoir people would read. At the end as we recapped, and I joked that she won’t be able to look at toilet paper without thinking of me now and she’s welcome and also I’m sorry, she said, “That [the potential memoir name] is definitely the weirdest thing I’ve ever said in a session.”
Reader, this felt like a badge of honor.
I don’t know if she had any clue what she was getting herself into when she took me on as a client 16 months ago, she certainly had no way of knowing it would go to the depths it has in that time frame though she’s so good at her job I wouldn’t be surprised if she expected more than meets the eye to a degree most may not. I’ve made every therapist I’ve worked with cry, and it took her a while to join that club (a testament to her wonderful boundaries and also her way of knowing what is appropriate when) but one of my favorite moments was making her laugh out loud in such an unexpected way that she immediately covered her mouth. My other favorite is knowing the weirdest thing she’s ever said in a session was in my session. Heck yes. Welcome to my weird little brain, make yourself comfortable, it’s bound to get weirder.
Truly, every time we meet I’m amazed at how good she is at her job. She seems to know exactly what to say or not say or do or whatever at the perfect time. There are little specific moments that are ones I reflect back on to remind myself of reality when my brain gets all doubt-y about things. I don’t know that I have ever felt so seen or heard or known by any one person before, and even as a self proclaimed “open book”, that’s a rare feat indeed. It’s not often I feel safe enough to truly be seen, but she manages to create that space and hold it for me, no matter how much I try to sabotage my progress.
What’s the point of this post? Not much, really, other than to say that a good therapist is worth more than anything else I can conjure. I don’t know what I did to deserve finding such a wonderful one, but I’m forever grateful.
I hope if you find yourself in need of help, you’re brave enough to seek it out. And that if the first time isn’t a good fit, that you’re bold enough to try again. And I hope that you find in someone the safety it takes to truly be able to show up authentically and work through the darker parts of yourself. We all have dark and light inside of us. It’s up to us to take responsibility to learn how to manage them in productive ways for ourselves. Some of us have more privilege in the resources to cultivate this management and balance between the two, as well as the grey area in between, and we won’t all have it figured out and perfect no matter what we do. But we can start where we are, with what we have, and we can begin to see life open up for us.
I truly believe what’s meant for me will find me, and the same for you, if we’re brave enough to live authentically. It’s difficult and ugly and painful sometimes, but it’s also beautiful and peaceful and safe. Both can be true.
(I learned that from my therapist)
If I ever do end up physically publishing anything, a lifelong dream of mine, you can bet your buttons she’ll have a dedication at the front of the book. Its the least I can do.
1988- 