in life, there are certain phrases you just don’t ever want to hear. they are phrases that, upon hearing, fill you with an intense dread and sense of foreboding.

phrases such as,

“step out of the car and put your hands behind your back.”
“tomorrow’s april 15th”
“clean out your desk”
“i’m sorry, we’re out of bread”

and, “i’m closing my practice.”

that last after ten years together. ten, harrowing, hysterically traumatic years. especially when he’s your therapist and you’re pretty sure that’s not allowed. is it? can it be? he certainly didn’t consult me on the matter.

here’s what you gotta understand about the relationship between a therapist and his patient. particularly if you’re lucky enough to find a good one. the relationship between a shrink and his patient is a deeply profound and meaningful one. no one else knows me like my therapist. no one else understands.

i’ve poured my heart and soul out to him for so long, he knows. he just knows. and he understands. and it’s all okay. i’m in his office with the comfortable chairs and warm brick decor and the mascara is running down my face and i’m giving tammy faye bakker a right decent run for the money. and that’s alright, friends and neighbors. i’m wailing like a four alarm house fire and i’m barely articulate, but that’s okay, too. and plus, he lets me swear. i can swear like a sailor when i get mad. but does he care? no. hell to tha! his language is worse than mine sometimes. you can’t get that with just any therapist, sweetheart. i don’t know how well you know head doctors, but take it from someone who knows. some shrinks will just say to you, “oh. what i’m hearing from you here is that you really need to reach out and share the wonder and beauty of this earth with your inner child. find your chakra. be one with your inner you.” or some other such enlightenment hoochie coochie. some new age hoo hah.

yeah. no. this is my shrink:

“what? oh what a bunch of bullshit. you know that’s bullshit. i know that’s bullshit. that’s not going to work. here’s the way this is going to go…”

because he calls it like he sees it. he doesn’t let me BS him and he doesn’t paint the world in rosy hues so i can feel better about living in it.

well, at least that’s what my shrink used to say. back when he was my shrink. but he’s not anymore.

and okay, listen, i’m not crazy. if that’s what you’re thinking.don’t even start that with me. i don’t talk to inanimate objects or burn myself with matchsticks. i’m not a paranoid schizo-anything. i don’t even have a diagnosis. because there’s nothing to diagnose. i go to a therapist because i have a lot on my mind. oh, boy. i’ve got a lot going on up there. and it helps to have someone to talk to about it. i don’t mean someone like my mom. my mom is very sweet and she’s a good listener. but she’s also my mom. and here’s what she’s going to say, “what? whaaaat? that is so wrong. so, so wrong. you’re the prettiest, most talented girl on the planet. that’s not supposed to happen at all!”

and while i may agree with her, that’s not very practical. or accurate. friends aren’t much better. some will sound the same as mom. others will disagree. some might even hit the nail on the head from time to time. but none will ever bat a thousand. i need a thousand, folks. forget lovers. forget co-workers. my boss? no good. my kids? uh uh. what happens when i need to vent about my lover? what happens if my boss is driving me mad? what do i do if i don’t understand my kids?

no. i have to have someone who can listen to me rant about all of them. all the time. i’ve never thought, “gee, i don’t understand my therapist. i wish i had someone i could talk to about him.”

i need that place. i need the objective listener who is totally detached from the situation from all angles. the guy who doesn’t have a stake in any of it. i need to get a fresh perspective on things once in a while because, let’s just face it, my head can get wedged firmly up my ass and family and friends are reluctant to be honest about that for whatever reason.

can i just say? i’m tired of helping with homework. i have no interest in jacob’s art project. i’m tired of looking for houses. i don’t feel like trying to be the star employee so my employer can be proud and i can make more money to buy more stuff i don’t need or want. i’m worn out. i’m just tired. my mind is tired, my heart is tired. i’m tired in my soul. i don’t want to do the dishes. can’t the report just wait? is it really that important that i make sure dinner is a good balance of veggies, protein and starch? i don’t want to pay the bills and i don’t want to think about making doctor’s appts for the boys’ checkups. these are things i just don’t want to do. but i’ll do them anyway. because i have to do them and they have to be done and i’ve signed on to do them and that’s how that song goes. mainly i’ll do them because i want to. because i have a family and i love them a lot and i’d do anything for them.

you see what i did there? i said what i felt but then immediately qualified it and clarified it lest you judge me and think i’m a bitter bitch who resents her family. because that’s what people do when they’re overly honest in mixed company. but he understands. his office is the one place i can go and say what i really feel and not feel like he’s judging me. you can’t put a pricetag on that. there’s no way.

and now he’s going away. he’s closing his practice because he’s been moonlighting for years and his family would like to see him occasionally and i can’t blame him or them but yeah, i’d really like to. i just wonder how i’ll get past it. it’s not something i’ve had to deal with before. i mean, we’ve talked about it. the last few sessions we’ve discussed and discusssssed it and i’ve told him he can’t quit and then threatened him and then threw a hissy fit. clearly none of that worked. he has referrals for me, he says. pffth. referrals. i’ve told him i’ll think about it. he’s not happy with that response. but it’s a bit like dating, isn’t it? i think we all fall in love with our therapists a little. you can’t open yourself up and share that much of yourself with someone for that long and not love them a little. you share so many of your vulnerabilities and frailties. it’s almost unfathomable for me to imagine beginning again with someone new. it takes so long, so long to get there. how can i begin again? your old boyfriend never says to you, “i want to break up, but here’s a list of new, possible boyfriends i think might be good matches for you. they would suit you well.” that doesn’t happen. this is what this feels like. i don’t want to fall for another therapist. get close to another shrink and expose all those vulnerabilities to him only to have him go away again in a few more years. i’m not having fun here.

do they have therapy to help you get over your therapist? if i decide to start anew with a new shrink will he be patient and understanding while i pine long and wistfully on and on about the loss of my life support? will i spend long hours replaying sessions past in my head and wondering where it all went wrong and what i could have done differently? will i compare all future therapists to him? will any ever live up to him, my first great shrink?

i don’t know, but one thing’s for sure. he’s not sitting at home writing in his journal about me right now. he’s so over me.