*** Trigger Warning: I'm discussing ending therapy and what's getting triggered by that, and right now it's not so pretty. So if this is tough subject, you might want to skip this post. I don't want to scare anyone.***

Hi All,
I am really struggling right now because my T and I, at my instigation, have decided that I seem to be heading out the door. We've had a number of really good sessions and have been looking backward and reflecting on all the growth and the significant things which have happened in the relationship. My calls and emails between appointments have dwindled to virtually none (I called today because of the stuff I'm posting about, he was his usual wonderful self. Like that's making it any easier to leave!!) and I went through a three week gap because of my vacation and his without contacting him the at all. And was good the whole break. I felt really connected and knew he was there. It was REALLY good when I came back to see him but there had not been that incredibly painful feelings of separation.

I have struggled on and off throughout therapy with leaving. It has been such a long, painful struggle to allow myself to get close to my T, to open up to him, to allow myself to trust and love him. And throughout this has always been the knowledge haunting me that someday this would end. It probably doesn't help that I didn't really leave my previous T. She quit clinical practice to go back to school and go after other pursuits, so the ending came upon me. It all worked out in the end because I have been able to heal with my present T and go to places I couldn't reach before.

Part of realizing that it's time to go was the realization that I haven't had any major breakthroughs or new realizations since October when I finally came to grips with my guilt about seeing my T and getting my needs met. So add it all up together and it seems like it's time for me to go out and live my life.

So at my last session, my T and I discussed my leaving. He was EXTREMELY clear that I am welcome to stay as long as I like and the ending can take as long as I need. That this part is no different from anything else we've done. That we'll deal with the feelings as they come up. For that matter, EVERYONE else seems to be fine with me taking my time, except for me. I am putting a tremendous amount of pressure on myself to go. Partly because I've just been in therapy for forever (on and off, but mostly on for the last 22 years) and it feels like it's about time I tried to face life alone. My T and I have also discussed that I have a deep fear of being somewhere where I am not welcome so I am trying to leave before my welcome is up. But he has explained to me on a number of occasions that that is not possible. That I am always welcome and when I leave his door remains open.

At the end of the session, I decided to go two weeks between appointments and I'm halfway there. Today would have probably been my appt if I had stuck to my "normal" weekly schedule.

(I'm trying to get to the point, but since I'm really confused and not sure what I'm trying to say, it's a rather circuitous path.)

Having actually said out loud that I'm leaving has kicked up an incredible firestorm of reactions. Do you know how they say when someone is dying they're life flashes before their eyes? My theraputic life is flashing before my eyes. So many feelings and doubts that I thought I had laid to rest (as in put a stake through the heart and buried) are rearing up in so many different ways.

As the feelings come up, I am recognizing them and remembering dealing with them, tracing them to their roots and understanding them so I keep trying to navigate through them. But the intensity is really high.

There are two really strong themes: fear of dissolution and the grief of what I cannot (didn't) have.

My T and I worked really hard on allowing me to feel secure. At one point he shared ee cummings poem, "I carry your heart" and it finally sunk in that the relationship was real, that I could trust it, that no matter where I went, I carried my T with me and he carried me with him. I actually gave him a heart shaped silver box with a green stone heart in it to represent that truth. He was obviously very moved by it and it sits on a table in his office.

But the thought of leaving has kicked the whole thing back up. That when i walk through his door for the last time, that I will cease to be remembered by him and I will disappear. That somehow this person I have discovered I am will not survive past his threshold. That I will not carry that sense of connection with me.

And so few people understand just how momumental a thing this is to do (I am NOT including the people here). This is one of the most significant, if not MOST significant, relationships I've ever had. I have allowed this man to know me in a way very few do. The depth and intimacy of this relationship has actually shaped who I am. And I love him so very deeply, I love being with him. But I'm going. So saying goodbye is this incredibly major event in my life and I struggle with it just being another patient leaving for him and who's next please? Which is so unfair, because my T has told me a number of times that I have changed him, that the relationship is a significant one and that when a significant theraputic relationship ends, it is also difficult for him. But the fear is most definitely there.

And I struggled so hard and so long to accept that the theraputic boundaries were there. I faced that I could not always have what I thought I wanted in this relationship. I moved past that to understand that therapy couldn't be enough, that I could not obtain some of the things that I had been searching for my whole life. Because it's too late. That some of the stuff missing in my childoood were real losses. I faced the pain and grief of those losses.

But I realized when discussing leaving with a dear friend today (who does get this) that I think I have still held on to one last hope. That if I could reach the end of therapy, things would change. My reward would be the boundaries melting, and being able to know my T in a way I can't now. That he would finally lose that (sometimes infuriating but oh so necessary) detachment and show me how he feels. But that's NOT GOING TO HAPPEN. He will not do that and hold out the hope to me of getting something he cannot really give me. He will not cease to be my T when I leave. And he will be that same calm, centered, contained therapist he has always been when I walk out the door the last time. Now ironically, I understand the need for all of these behaviors and how necessary they were to my healing but it doesn't change the fact that I want them to go away. I feel like I am raling against gravity or the earth's rotation in not liking this.

And I have to go looking but there's not alot out there on ending therapy well, especially from a patient's point of view. I want to see this through. But it's confusing.

And I know that I really can talk about all of this with my T but another thing that's coming back up is that awful feeling of humilation of exposing all my feelings and vulnerabilities about how I feel about him and I will not know or see how he feels about me.

As I'm typing this I realize that my T and I have faced all of these issues, and we'll deal with them again. But in the end I'll still have to leave. And right now it hurts so much. But I need to remember the most important lesson he taught me. That I don't have to be afraid of my feelings, that I will be ok no matter what feelings I experience. So it's ok to grieve and acknowledge this sadness. But I do feel like a huge mess.

Somehow I think I believed that leaving was going to be this neat, tidy thing. You'd think with all of my experience, that I would realize it would be confusing, and painful and I would feel like a complete twit while going through it. Can't see why it should be different than the rest of therapy.

Thank you all for being here, it is a deep comfort to know I have somewhere to talk about this without people thinking I'm nuts.

AG

PS It's probably not helping that I went back to the doctor yesterday and STILL have not gotten over the bronchitis I caught at Thanksgiving. One more round of antibiotics and steroids, neither of which do much for my moods. (Don't ask me why, but I get depressed for the first few days on antibiotics.)