Petite

Today was composed of hours devoted to small tasks. A meeting here, an experiment there. A few errands in which I dropped off or picked up bits of work. I deposited a check and did some shopping online. I mindlessly clicked buttons and busily backed up precious data. I endured a long commute in the morning and one only slightly shorter back home.

I wanted today's experiment to go well, braving the long drive yesterday despite lingering illness to ensure that all was prepared for this afternoon. It went beautifully - it was my first patient for that particular project and her follow-up data was gorgeous. It seems a small thing - less than an hour to collect data, a couple hours to process all of it. But in terms of feasibility and building confidence, it was quite important. I'm pleased.

I also wrote email to Dr. Counselor. Being done with a particular therapist is fine, I think. But I feel abandoned, as silly as that sounds. Like I wasn't progressing fast enough or doing well enough so I don't get to go anymore. While I was sitting this afternoon, waiting for my experiment and taking care of little tasks, I composed a quick note. I asked him to send the referrals since I didn't feel it was necessary to meet one last time. I'm hurt and offended and no longer wish to deal with him.

He replied with a message that sounded confused. But he did think - if I decided I was done working with him - that we should meet again so he could give me his blessing in person.

Now if I was an adult, I suppose I'd go to the appointment and gracefully end our time together.

Instead, I deleted the appointment from my calendar, smiling when Google wanted to confirm, asking "Delete Dr. Counselor?" I decisively clicked yes. I also replied to the email that he was the one who said we were done. I thanked him as politely as I could manage and reiterated that I don't particularly want one last session.

Then I went to the bathroom and cried.

It's a small thing - losing a therapist I happened to like and was likely ready to leave anyway - but it matters somehow. So I'd rather analyze data and watch TV than think about it, leaving you with a rather lame blog post.

I guess what I told Dr. Counselor is true. I am much better - productive and busy and capable of functioning. I didn't get all the way better and I am hurt that I no longer feel comfortable going to him, but I think I did get what I needed. Maybe.