Letter to my Therapist

This is the letter I wrote to my t.  It is mainly about the start of my therapeutic journey until now.

I am led to a dimly lit room.  Jumping with anxiety yet frozen with fear I sit in a chair.  Fear of the unknown, fear of what might be.  My eyes scan the room.  A floor lamp is glowing softly tucked into a corner.  Beside me is a small table.  A desk, a computer and a few odds and ends complete the room.  A woman sits across from me with papers resting on her lap.  I sit waiting and, then, the first question is asked.

And so starts this journey.  A journey of discovery.

There have been many twists, turns and a few roadblocks along the way. Each teaching me, each showing something about myself.

I have spent most of my life trying to figure myself out. Sometimes succeeding but most times not.   Wondering why I was the way I was, never making the connections.

I needed someone, a guide, to help me make those connections, to help give me understanding.

That guide is you.  All that had gone on in the few years before was preparing me for the journey ahead.  I know I had to work hard in letting you be this for me.  It went against everything my independent self is.

In the beginning I know I tested you a lot.  Somewhere inside me I needed to know you would stick with me if the going got tough, if I started showing the bad parts of me.  I also needed to know that you had boundaries and that those boundaries could be flexible.  Without realizing it I also needed your humanness within the relationship.

And in staying constant with your reactions toward me no matter what I brought into the room, a safe place was being created.  Without me even being aware of it.  All these things made it so I could start showing the parts of me that no other human being has ever seen.  The bits of me that can be easily hurt, the dark parts, the vulnerable parts.

When I ran into a roadblock, when I had no words, when I couldn’t communicate, you found other ways to help me out, to make the connections.

Those connections are never easy for me.  I’ve heard words I’d never heard before; words that for some reason make me cringe.  Abuse, shame, pain, hurt and the worst of them all – trauma. They all lead to a truth, a truth I have avoided all my life.  A truth I would still rather avoid.  A truth that really, I didn’t realize was a truth.

In the safety of that dimly lit room I have slowly started facing that truth. The truth of my life.  Speaking some of those truths out loud so my ears and your ears could hear has been some of the hardest things I’ve had to do.  This is the reason I have spoken little of my truths.  It’s hard for my ears to hear.

This journey has at times amazed me.

I often wondered what was different in sharing my past with you as compared to sharing the same thing with the first counsellor I had seen.  I become so unstable with her I truly thought my life would end.  And when it came time to start sharing the same stuff with you I was so afraid it would happen again.  To my amazement it didn’t. I suddenly realized one day a safe place was being created for me.  Amazed that this place kept me from acting out.  A place where I could share without becoming lost within the experience of re-living.

You gave me a place to be.

Amazed that I’m not alone in my experience. Who knew? Amazed that you would even stick with me through this difficult journey.  Amazed that I would stick with this most difficult journey.  Amazed that this is actually a journey.  Amazed that there is a whole bunch of people out there dedicated to the study of trauma.  Who knew?

This journey has at times startled me.

Startled that just maybe what I went through was somewhat bad, not a normal life. Startled in realizing what had happened to me. Startled about the connection of what I am now and my childhood life. Startled when I matched a word said to a feeling felt.  Startled that others shared the experience and called it bad. Startled to think there may be a little girl.

Startled when you knew what was what when I didn’t even know what was.

This journey has at times discouraged me.

Discouraged when I don’t see the progress I think I should be making.  Discouraged when I can’t make any connections no matter how hard I try.  Discouraged when there are no words to express myself.  Discouraged when I realized that I can’t jump from point a to point b, that there was all these little steps in-between.  Discouraged that I only have fleeting memories.  Most of all discouraged that I will have to come to terms with the effects of the past.

This journey has given me hope.

Hope that even though I may have to live with the effects of the past I can just maybe learn to work around them.  Hope that I can excel in this endeavour.   Hope I will be able to recognize what is happening in the moment.  Hope that there is a future.  Hope that one day I will be able to acknowledge, and accept and most of all have compassion for what is within, both dark and light.  Hope that the little girl within will have a voice one day.  🙂

As I have sat with you I’ve come to know that there my not be an end to this particular journey.  It’s not so much about the destination but the journey itself. I’ve learned that there are actually many facets involved in this healing journey.

You, t, I will never forget you.  You have been and are big part of this journey I’m on. I’ve tried to work hard in this journey, to try to discover the self within.  And over time I slowly came to know that you were working for me as well, working along with me.  That you have worked hard for me.

I am grateful for that dimly lit room.  For the woman with the papers on her lap.

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This entry was posted in Anxiety, Change, Relationships, Therapist, Therapy, trauma, Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

20 Responses to Letter to my Therapist

  1. Maryann says:

    Great letter, thanks for sharing it.

  2. Harriet says:

    That is a beautiful letter, I hope your t appreciated it. I’m sure it was helpful to you writing it.

    • lostinamaze says:

      It was helpful to write it. One of my intentions in writing it is to remind me that therapy wasn’t a waste of time and that it was helpful in many ways. It’s easy for me to forget this in the aftermath of the ending.

  3. Thanks for sharing such personal and intimate thoughts. XX

  4. One long journey says:

    Wow – what a wonderfully moving letter – you voiced so much of what I feel about this process. Thank you for sharing this. Did you give it to your T at the session?

    Take care of yourself.

    • lostinamaze says:

      I did give it to my t at the last session. It actually made her cry which surprised me. It helped to write about what some of my journey meant to me and in some respects helped to things to a conclusion. It didn’t change how I feel about the ending though.

      • One long journey says:

        I know it didn’t change the ending – I wish there were a way she knew that stuff also. Do you think she got it at all at the end – how torn up you were about ending?

        I have always been surprised when my T shows some emotion during a session – doesn’t happen often – usually when I’ve shared something horrific – it took awhile before I realized that those were “normal” emotions.

        Thinking of you.

        • lostinamaze says:

          To tell you the truth I’m not sure if she knows the extent of how I felt about ending. It makes me wonder how well I actually can mask how I really feel without even realizing it. I think I tend to be a neutral person. I’m not sure how I could change this so she would get how I truly felt.

  5. JBR says:

    Appreciate you sharing your thoughts here dear one. What you revealed is truly wonderful. You have that right with the many facets to ones journey. They are all different. Blessings and safe hugs.

    • lostinamaze says:

      I find it interesting that I just recently realized the different facets of the journey and of healing. It has changed my focus from ‘you’re the only one who can help me’ to just maybe there are other people who can help and other ways that it can happen.

  6. (((hugs))) gratitude is a special gift

  7. jay says:

    Your letter has given me hope. I stopped seeing my therapist around 3 months ago as I felt after weeks of going round in circles, I was going nowhere. I hadn’t developed a relationship/bond with her and dreaded my weekly sessions. Recently I have been thinking maybe its not therapy that I should of given up on, maybe with someone else it would work. Thank you for the ray of hope you have sent this way.

    • lostinamaze says:

      I’m glad you have found hope in this. I had a therapist prior to this one where I also felt I wasn’t going anywhere. And then I found this one. For me the relationship does make a difference in how I respond within the therapy.

  8. m says:

    wow! I could of written every word of this….this is my experience exactly…..it is like you have plucked all my thoughts and so so eloquently written them brilliantly…I am still in therapy with my second therapist who does ‘get it’ and I hope when (arggh!) just even writing that there could be an ending is hard!! but if/when it ends I pray I will be able to express to her at least a little some of that you have shared here as it describes it perfectly….guess we aren’t all that different! een though you feel like you are the only one to have ever felt these things!

    • lostinamaze says:

      I’m glad you have a therapist who ‘gets’ it. I think they are a gift. I hope your therapy won’t end before you are ready for it to end. You’re right we probably aren’t all that different!

  9. Sue says:

    As “M” above said, I could have written almost every word of this….my experience different, but my way of communicating similar. I have a great therapist, for me. And my gosh, it is joyous when you find one that does “get it” and learns your unique way in the world and how you express yourself, and allows you to be YOU. I was lost in my own self-built maze of reality….my “t” helped me out of that maze of hell. And the more things get connected to reality and you learn who you are, and that you matter and that you are allowed to exist as well, the journey becomes less a struggle and more an adventure. At least for me that is how it has been. I found my voice, sounds like you had someone help you begin to find yours. Blessed you!

  10. Debbie says:

    Wowl……What a touching letter. Thanks for sharing it with us, every word that was rittin sounded like it came from what I was dealing with. You deafinetly have to have a “speshall therapist” to be abill to do the hard work, one that supports you, threw the “ruff” times and the “Ok” times. There’s a lot of learning to do along the roads that we go down.

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