It’s been awhile since I’ve written, well, anything personal, anywhere. I haven’t written here or in my journals or even on Tumblr. I actually haven’t had too much to say, which is kind of a good thing. I’ve been swamped with school and my new jobs. I’ve also been feeling so much better with my new medication combination; Ive felt stable enough that I didn’t feel the need to pour myself out onto the internet or onto paper in order to stay sane (or alive). This is all good.
I’m mainly writing this post to update but also to share a new feeling of impending doom. I know that’s somewhat oxy-moronical seeing as I just got finished saying how great I was feeling. Let me explain a bit.
I’ve been seeing my current therapist (she’s technically a grad student getting her internship hours at a local women’s help clinic) for over a year now. I hadn’t been in therapy for well over 4 years because I was unable to afford it and I was finally able to get in with this place and I’ve been lucky enough to stay with her. It was slow going at first, as many patient/therapist relationships can be. I think ours may have been slightly more difficult because she was still so new to this and I was such an unstable basket case at the time. It also probably doesn’t help that I know so much about my disorders and conditions, I could school most licensed professionals at this point. Anyways, we’re actually quite a bit of progress right now. I am quite close to her (maybe too much, that’s a whole other messed up bag of dependency/abandonment issues) and get quite a bit out of our sessions. I was seeing her weekly up until about a month or so ago. She informed me then that there seems to be some silly rule that they’re actually not supposed to see clients long term at the women’s center and she’s done all that she can to extend it but she’s going to have to stop seeing me soon. That’s it. There’s nothing I can do about it and apparently nothing she can do. What in the fuck?! How is that healthy for me?
Fast forward to present day. We’ve had maybe 4 sessions since I was told that we’re on limited time. We’ve started seeing each other every other week now to extend my time with her and it’s just killing me. I’m not getting what I need from our sessions and it just seems utterly fucking pointless. I feel like I have to jam as much as possible in my 50 minutes and then poof, it’s over. I don’t understand how her supervisors can possibly see this as healthy for me. I don’t see why they wouldn’t allow me to continue to see her. I pay every time I see her. I’m never late. I’ve never missed a session. I’m a great client. Why? It’s not fair. Meanwhile, I get to try to think about somehow finding someone else. There is no one else. I’ve spent the last 4 years scouring this city looking for someone I could afford and there isn’t anyone. I’m uninsured and poor. I currently pay 15 bucks a session. Who the hell is going to allow that? No one.
I’m going to be alone again. It’s scaring the shit out of me because I’m finally stable and I finally have my shit together and now I might lose it over this. Over a stupid rule that could be broken. Should be broken. I am scared I might lose my shit. Last week when I left session with her, I got into the car and broke down. I was convulsing, I was crying so hard. I came home and cried even more. I hadn’t thought of suicide in so long and my mind wandered in that direction because of this. It’s scaring me to think that I can’t survive without her. She is my rock. I have to wait until August 8th to see her again before we can talk about this. 50 minutes is not enough time to work this out. I want to talk to her supervisors and ask them why they can’t allow me to see her. Why isn’t it ok?