I woke this morning wanting a few things. First, to grab my Yamada quote:
“Change should not be rushed, because things will end with merely the expectation of change.” - Yamada Masaaki -
I was thinking about this quote vis-a-vis ending therapy. I thought that as I began to scale this mountain, really scale it, that I was making it happen. One week ago I had a very upsetting session which lead me to realizing that I perhaps had wrung all that I could out of therapy.
I landed in this place I didn’t expect; right conclusion but perhaps the wrong path. Odd, like I got to my destination, this knowledge that I was done with therapy, but I realized that there was a lot more to landing in this place that I needed to sort through.
A metaphor would help but I don’t have one.
We need to say goodbye. The navigation is correct. We landed here due to an uncomfortable session alerting us that staying in therapy at this point would be more than diminishing returns. Saying goodbye differently, feeling different about leaving when we leave, is the work.
You could say that the decision to leave is to the trailhead.
But the leaving differently is the mountain we’ve yet to climb.
I realized that I was triggered last week; thinking back mostly to these clusters you get into in therapy that seem to be going over the same material, creating really only pain without productivity. If you understand the themes, truly and deeply, there is no need to keep hammering on them.
That was clear.
But, as you say, A, the hard work only begins with this realization.
I woke this morning imagining me without any more therapy. And, as I did, I could see that my conversation will continue, with or without an hour’s worth of input from Teresa.
Or any other therapist.
I will write my book. Or at least keep working on it.
I will continue my daily work.
I see that my work has not been very therapy-centered anyway this past year.
And I suppose if I get stuck, up shit’s creek, I can always connect with Teresa to see if I can borrow a paddle now and then.
I suppose there’s a way to end therapy but still know that the person who helped you could help you again if you needed it.
So I’ll do some EMDR today to maybe gain some understanding around leaving and loss with the intent to perhaps change this script inside of me.
I must admit though, these past few weeks I feel untethered, uncertain.
What do you feel about the future?
Honestly, not a lot. I’m grateful to have some time. But I feel both pressure to do something with it but not a huge amount of direction. My immediate future I guess is to terminate therapy and I do see myself as working on this book.
Do those things feel right? Do these things feel good?
Termination feels right but not good. The book feels right and sorta good. Neither is grabbing me with excitement. I feel a kind of low level depression, a lack of engagement, even with clay right now. I’m at a crossroads as to what to do moving forward.
It is natural—and good—to ponder.
We can build a Pondering Pond!
Ponder does feel like the right word these days. It’s hard though, feeling time bumping up against this instinct to ponder.
We are not someone who sits still for long. We are not someone who lives an unproductive life. We have spent the last four years, S, in a deep meditation in words and in therapy.
For two plus years the therapy we were in hurt and confused us. So we left it. We chose another therapist and for another two years and we were helped.
8484 pages in 1516 days.
I see that my spreadsheet now divides both the time and the pages by therapist.
826 days E, 814 T. 826 pages E. 814 pages T.
It’s interesting to note shitty or decent, that therapy with the same therapist anyway, may have its limits for me at around the 800 day mark.
820 days equals 2.25 years.
I suppose there will be a chapter in the book I write about this. And I want it to be about that shitty session and how I arrived at termination. It, obviously, remains unwritten. I am in the process of living out this narrative right now.
I am exploring going super large in my work in clay. It’s tugging at me. But the physicality of working large along with all the unknowing has me…pondering. Perhaps considering a middle ground. A big—but not that big. Or a version of big that is more workable.
Allow, allow, allow.