My First therapist was Susan.
Sweet Susan.
She had short dark hair,
like a bad pixie cut.
She was delightfully plump,
and awful barbie pink lipstick
that often would get on her teeth.
I was almost 8 when I first met her.
and 12 when we said goodbye.
like a bad pixie cut.
She was delightfully plump,
and awful barbie pink lipstick
that often would get on her teeth.
I was almost 8 when I first met her.
and 12 when we said goodbye.
She saw me through starting my period,
meeting my biological father,
and moving between mom's house, grandparent's house, and aunts.
She held my hand through
not being able to read,
fighting with my mom,
and battling a dangerously low self esteem.
She was with me while I lost people,
and helped me when they came back.
She taught me how to make cup-o-noodles,
and tie a slip knot for bracelets.
She was great.
and
I miss her.
terribly.
I was in 3rd grade the first time I wrote
"Therapist"
under what I wanted to be when I grew up;
I didn't want to be a therapist,
I wanted to be Susan.
With a better hair cut...
and I decided lipstick just wasn't for everyone.
(including me or her)
Now,
I mentioned we said goodbye when I was 12,
but I saw her one more time when I was 14.
I was struggling with
self esteem,
self harm,
and self image
(ya know... self"ish" teenager stuff)
I sat where I was supposed to,
her in her chair,
me on the couch across from her.
I could hardly look her in the eyes.
halfway through the session she had tears streaming down her face,
she got up and sat next to me on the couch,
put her arm around me
and we both sat there and cried.
She grabbed tissues, one for me, one for her,
looked me in the eyes and said
"I so badly don't want you to be sad anymore"
We talked a few more minutes,
and agreed that she couldn't be the one to help me anymore.
She punched my arm as I walked out of the office,
and I forcibly laughed through the tears and walked away.
I had aged out of her scope of practice,
We had grown too close,
And it wasn't ethically sound for me to continue with her.
This absolutely destroys my heart to think about.
The idea that people are that fleeting,
not always by choice,
but worse,
at times it's by necessity.
That at times,
it is necessary,
for the sake of them,
professionally,
personally,
whatever,
to leave.
People can't get too close,
people can't stay too long,
Everyone eventually will say
I'm too much,
I'm too old,
and They "can't."
Then they say goodbye.
I had aged out of her scope of practice,
We had grown too close,
And it wasn't ethically sound for me to continue with her.
This absolutely destroys my heart to think about.
The idea that people are that fleeting,
not always by choice,
but worse,
at times it's by necessity.
That at times,
it is necessary,
for the sake of them,
professionally,
personally,
whatever,
to leave.
People can't get too close,
people can't stay too long,
Everyone eventually will say
I'm too much,
I'm too old,
and They "can't."
Then they say goodbye.