(or I’m in Therapist Limbo)
Over the last few weeks I’ve been therapist shopping – never an easy or pleasant task. Many of the therapists I’ve seen have no online presence at all – no website or Psychology Today profile, certainly not a blog or Twitter feed. So I go into each appointment blind, not sure of what I am going to find, having to rely just on faith of the referrer who provided the name and contact details. Suffice to say that connection has been elusive. This is a hard enough task under normal circumstances, made even harder by my particular circumstances.
You see, I don’t even know if I want to be in therapy right now, as much as I might need it. One therapist remarked to me that I have to find the will to be in therapy, that she couldn’t provide the will for the both of us. Fair enough – but truthfully I don’t know that I have the will or energy to start this process over again. I thought I had found the right therapist for me. I didn’t think I would ever have to start back at the beginning. I never thought I’d find myself sitting in strange offices across from complete strangers, re-telling my sad little tale. I thought that part of the therapeutic journey was long behind me.
And although I always feared it, I never fully considered the possibility that my therapist (or I should say ex-therapist?), with whom I had connected and bonded and attached to, would become so ill as to not be able to work anymore or, worse, circumstances would so dramatically change as to preclude us from continuing our work together.