When The Therapist's Away...

What do you do when your therapist goes on vacation? It probably depends on what you're in therapy for and your emotional state to begin with. Some people likely become anxious at the prospect of not seeing their trusted confidant for their weekly appointment, some may even cry or freak out a little. I ultimately decided to take the day to myself. 


As much as I enjoy therapy (and I mean I really, really love therapy) I have to admit that I was a little excited when P first told me she would be out of town last week and we would have to postpone our weekly session. After nearly a year of showing up faithfully, week after week for the same afternoon appointment it was nice to have my schedule clear for once, to have the day to spend entirely as I chose, to not have to be anywhere at any specific time. It was kind of like a little breath of fresh air. I got my hair done, spent some time relaxing at Starbucks then popped over next door for an impromptu pedicure. And then when I was finished galavanting about and felt sufficiently pampered, I went home. Because I felt like it. In fact, last Tuesday was probably the most relaxing day I've had in a long time. 

But I should probably back up… The prior Tuesday I had been feeling a little unnerved. That week had been a bit of a low point for me. I had just gotten back from attending a blogger conference in Philadelphia. I was striking out in unfamiliar territory (in a field that was relatively new to me), meeting new people (including some whose blogs I read on a regular basis) and really kind of putting myself out there.  It was basically a chance for me to practice many of the skills I'd acquired from therapy all at once. And I failed. At least in my eyes. While some aspects of the weekend went very well (I met a lot of other bloggers - I'd even go so far as to say I made some new friends - I continued to introduce myself to new people even though I felt uncomfortable at times, I told people about my blog even though I was still very unsure of it myself) I couldn't help but fixate on the parts that didn't fare so well (I still felt uncomfortable socializing at times which is something I've struggled with in the past, I spent a lot of time mentally picking apart my blog, comparing myself to others and feeling like I'd never achieve what they had). After I returned home I found myself experiencing some fairly intense emotions. 

Moreover, over the next few days, I found myself fixated on one person (whose blog I read regularly and really admire).  I kept comparing myself to her and having thoughts about how she's perfect and I'll never measure up. I realized I was right back in my old comparison trap. Finding myself struggling with some of the same issues again was frustrating to say the least. I actually started feeling a little hopeless because I realized that, while I was able to recognize my issues (I don't really like this word but I have yet to find a good alternative), I still felt powerless to overcome them. Equally irritating was realizing that it's all within my control and yet I still am very much my own worst enemy. I started thinking about my issues that P and I have identified such as perfectionism and everything that's tied into it (the need for control, planning, comparisons). It seemed as though all of my smaller issues were coming together into one big unbearable core issue. And it felt intense and awful.

Two weeks ago found me in a tearful state as I related this all to P during our therapy session. I was disappointed in myself for having such negative feelings, especially at this stage in therapy and frustrated that I didn't handle the situation as well as I expected myself to at this point. I wasn't sure how P would react to everything I was unloading on her, whether she might even be a little disappointed in me too? P simply looked at me and said, rather matter-of-factly, that she wasn't surprised by my feelings because although we had spent a lot of time uncovering my issues (there's that word again), we hadn't really done a lot of work with the healing process yet. 

To hear her say this at first I was a little taken aback (Come again? I've been in therapy for almost a year and I haven't started healing yet?) but I must say that I was also relieved and even comforted because it meant that there was some more work to be done and more importantly, there was more that I could do about it. P went on to explain that these so-called 'negative' experiences (like the despair I was feeling after the past weekend) are actually important to the healing process and necessary in order to get to the core issue. I started to conjure up an image of a giant gobstopper and peeling away all the layers to get to the center. So I hadn't really started healing yet.

I've found that I have a two-part approach to dealing with an unexpected bit of information like this. My initial response is to approach with caution, eyeball from a distance, circle it a few times, back up and mull it over, come in for a closer look, poke it with a stick. My follow-up urge tends to be to dive in and dissect it to the point of exhaustion. After I had allowed the conversation from our last session to sink in, I thought about emailing P on several occasions to ask her to define more about this 'healing process' and just where along the therapy continuum did she think I was exactly? What does she feel my next 'steps' should be? Does it simply require more time and continuing the same process that we've been working on or taking on a completely new approach? I never did email P - a therapist deserves a vacation too after all. Besides I had a hunch that it wasn't something that could be answered in a simple reply. 

Over the past week I started thinking about the process of healing and what it means. As someone who finds the process of therapy truly fascinating (not just because of what I'm learning about myself) I was intrigued and curious to see how my 'healing' would unfold. Still there's a part of me that feels like I should be "fixed" already. And that part of me was feeling really frustrated because it seems like every time I think I'm getting it, getting closer to that core, I'm being forced to dig down a little bit deeper. 


I had just started reading a book called "Finding Your Own North Star" by Martha Beck (hey I needed some sort of guidance with P out of town) when I came upon this paragraph describing Dante's journey in The Divine Comedy that the author uses as a parallel to the process of self discovery:

His journey "took him as low as a human being could sink, through his worst fears and most bitter truths, down to the very center of the earth. And then, by continuing straight "downward" through the center and beyond, he was suddenly headed up. Before him he could see things like purpose, fulfillment, excitement, compassion and delight. He was still tired and scared, but he wasn't sleepwalking, and he wasn't lost. There was still a long road ahead of him, but it was the right road. "

It may be a little bit dramatic but I think it's actually a pretty accurate depiction of what occurs during the therapy process (at least in my experience). I've said it before and I'll say it again: therapy isn't easy work. I like to think that every time I have an experience like this where I'm left dealing with these intense emotions that it's proof that I'm reaching my center, chipping away at my core and healing just a little. I know it will take time and many more experiences like this one in order to get to a place where I feel like I'm healed (and I also know that the process will never truly be complete) but this time around, after just a few days of not feeling so great, I was already headed back up again.

At the end of our last session, just as we were about to part, aware that she would be leaving me to fend for myself for two weeks, P had asked me if I had any questions. I had one: Is it ever going to get better? P just looked at me and smiled. I already knew the answer. 


I have already seen so many benefits from therapy. Even when I'm in these so-called low points I realize that it's not as bad as it could be. Still therapy can be very intense at times. But I'm even more willing to withstand the intense times now because I suspect that that's where the healing begins. For now, I'm looking forward to my next session with P and excited for my healing to continue.

-k