Dear therapist, I appreciate you

Dear therapist,

You and I have been through some serious shit together. At least 9 years of shit. Maybe even closer to 10.

Things haven’t always been easy and sunshine and rainbows and smooth sailing when it comes to our relationship. In fact, there’s actually been a lot of hurdles and obstacles and struggles that we’ve, I’ve, needed to overcome.

Relationships are far from easy for me. Actually, they’re quite the opposite. They’re brutal, and insecure, and they always end up hurting me.

The first few years of our relationship, I sat there in a loud as fuck silence. My brain would be SCREAMING at my mouth to move, to talk…but it wouldn’t. Couldn’t. Not yet. The walls were too high. And I certainly didn’t trust you enough yet.

Still…there was something about you that felt safe. Right. And I’m not one to say that lightly. Trust me. I’m not going to waste my time on someone that doesn’t feel…right. And I’ve walked out on plenty of people before you.

I showed up…week after week. Mostly. And eventually started talking. You rarely made it easy on me, which I’m (mostly) grateful for.

It took…a lot of years to get to where we are now. A lot. Like…probably at least 7 or 8 years.

Which sounds a bit insane…doesn’t it? For it to take that long for me to break down my walls enough…let you in enough…and actually begin to trust you?

I don’t know why life is the way that it is, and honestly, nothing makes even an ounce of sense anymore.

You didn’t ask me to, and maybe I’m not supposed to, but I see you. I see you showing up for me in the “little” ways, that are actually really huge. I hear you when you make the comments, subtly but directly assuring me that we’re okay…that we’re solid…….that I can rely on you. And that you’re not going anywhere.

Never in a million years would I have thought that I’d be in a position so vulnerable in life that I really, truly do need you. And shit, admitting that I need anyone, let alone a person who by definition doesn’t have to be there…that’s saying something.

Last night, my husband (and his therapist) came into our session (per my request)…after one of the worst weeks, after the worst few months collectively of my life.

But, you know this, you were there.

In an environment I’ve learned to know and love to be predictable and stable…..it quickly became anything but. And it freaked me the fuck out.

Metaphorical musical chairs by everyone but me?

You and his therapist sitting on the floor playing cards, while my husband sat in a chair that felt to be 45 feet across the room…by his own choice, no less?

Oh yeah, I shut the hell down REAL fast. It wasn’t subtle, everyone in the room knew it.

Silent mouth, eyes averted, arms crossed…unable to engage. Barely even able to breathe at that point.

It fucking sucked.

I was done. It was too much. All of it was. The weirdness, the hurt of the past week (few months)…I just couldn’t.

Eventually, you and my husbands therapist were trying to clue my husband in into how to fix the situation. It slowly got better, but I was still incredibly shut down.

In another round of weird musical chairs, per my husbands choices as to what he thought might help me feel better, he sat across the room, his therapist sat in your chair, and you sat next to me on the couch. Once again, it was all weird as fuck, and it was just not how a normal joint session typically goes.

But as it turns out, my husband was right in his choices that I thought were insane. I started feeling a lot more grounded and safe, and I slowly checked back in, talking to you instead of him, and then eventually talking to him.

Your presence made a huge difference, both emotionally and physically. No one else could’ve had the same success in calming me down, because there’s no one else in my life right now that I actually feel safe and secure with.

In a world where everyone is doing everything wrong, you’re doing everything right.

I hate admitting it. I hate being vulnerable. And I hate feeling like I need someone who I’m still terrified isn’t going to be here, or will decide to leave me and give up on me at some point.

I’m so grateful for your presence in my life, because I sure as shit would not be here anymore if it weren’t for you. There have been a lot of scary moments over the last few weeks. And instead of feeling panicked and alone, I reached out instead…and let you be there for me.

I’m sorry I’ve had to rely on you so much lately…but I’m also really glad that I’m able to. Even if I fight it, even if I pull back…and even if I start shutting down and running away because I feel guilty for being so much. And I don’t actually deserve it.

So, if you ever find yourself reading this, either now or in the future…just know how much you mean to me, and how much of a difference you’ve made. I suck with being vulnerable, and admitting that I need people. But I also wanted you to know.

Thanks for being cool, I’ll keep crocheting random fruits and animals for your office. Well, for as long as I’m alive, anyway.