So much has changed in the last few months, and maybe in that change I am looking for something that I was able to rely on and use, and use that again. Something that meant so much to me, something that was there for me, that did not leave me, but I left it. In so much change, I need a constant.
I realized also, how important this is. Having people who get me, see me, understand what I say and where I am coming from. I need that understanding, a world I actually fit into.
Starting new therapy sucks. So much of it feels like wasted time. So much of it feels out of my control. Not the new therapy itself, the situation. I continue to grieve, I continue to feel anger, I continue to be working through a whole host of feelings about my therapist leaving that I feel I should not be feeling. And in a few weeks I am going to see her at a meeting, and I am dreading it.
I want to avoid her, I want to not even talk to her. And I know, that if that is really my wish, I could tell her don't talk to me when we are there, and she would listen and respect that. But I cannot bring myself to really do that because I do not know if that is really what I want.
We are in an awkward place, "friends" but not, she is not my therapist, she is not my friend, but we are still connected, whether I want to be or not, professionally. I cannot go surface with her, and I cannot go deep. It is not a good space to be in
Starting new therapy sucks. I already said that. It is an understatement. It is horrible. She is good. I like her. But she is different, and to my psyche different means wrong, and part of me is rejecting her. Rejecting her without giving her a fair chance. I am completely conscious of the fact that I am doing it, but I cannot help but do it. It feels like keeping myself safe. But I do not actually need to keep myself safe from her, she does not present a threat to me.
She realy does get me. She really does actually see me. She really does understand. I just need to allow myself to believe that and let her in
But hey, its progress, it took me, four years with my old therapist to even tell her I was a survivor.
I just want my old therapist back. But oddly, as I write that, I think I want my new therapist.
I am caught somewhere in a middle and stuck.