I broke up with my therapist

This past Tuesday was when I broke up with my therapist. This is actually the only time I've ever broken up with anyone. Except that one time in sixth grade when I dated a kid named Joey. But that doesn't count because I got my friend Alex to break up with him for me. No, this was not a romantic relationship I had with my therapist (EWWW). But I made the decision to no longer continue seeing her after realizing that it wasn't a right fit for me. The things I was looking for in a therapist were not being fulfilled and although I was making strides, I was not moving as fast as I thought I should be nor did I feel like my therapist really wanted to help me.

I've been going to therapy since I was a freshmen in college. I decided to seek mental therapy to help me cope with feelings I struggled to deal with and to better deal with the stresses of every day life. Some people may think going to therapy is somewhat embarrassing but I am actually a huge advocate for mental health assistance. But psychology not psychiatry. Other people may not need therapy and are able to cope and deal with their feelings on their own. I am not one of them. By going to therapy, to me, I am understanding who I am and why I do certain things, why I struggle with other things, and how I can better deal with issues when stress hits me. It's like fucking yoga for my brain I guess.

After seeing many different therapists over the years, I am able to figure out what I want from a therapist so I don't find myself in an awkward place when I'm in a therapy session. The first therapist I ever had was obviously an awkward situation for me because I never had been to therapy. She was an extern doing work on my college campus. I remember she would have these long pauses and I would feel extremely uncomfortable when this would happen. I would fidget with my hands and look at any possible thing in the room other than her face when this would happen. I remember I told the next therapist I had the following year that awkward silences like those were something that kind of made me feel...awkward. This one was tiny. She was like so little and frail and I remember reading something about her on the college website's Counseling Center page that she was an extern from Yeshiva University in the city. Mazel! She definitely helped me make strides with feelings I was struggling to deal with.

Junior year I had my favorite therapist. She was very soft-spoken and was one of the head honchos of the Counseling Center on campus. For being soft-spoken she was also a big mental cheerleader that helped me through the every day stresses of being a college student. I continued seeing her when I came back from studying abroad in Australia*. Throughout my senior year of college I developed a bond with her since she was the only therapist to date who I saw on a regular basis for almost two years. Unfortunately, graduating left me to find counseling off school premises so she could no longer advise me on life's daily struggles. I'll never forget her. 
*In Australia, I had a male therapist. He was a character. He sorta helped me when I was down under. He even did these mental exercises using a white board and markers and had me draw circles and arrows among people in my social circle. It was weird but kinda cool! I remember seeing him once a week up until the last month and a half of being abroad. I don't quite remember what he said but whatever it was it made me feel patronized. I was offended (and I'm pissed because I can't remember what he fucking said that made me so mad). But after that day I said I would schedule my next appointment at the front office and never came back.

I took a hiatus from therapy until the end of August 2012. My mind was going in circles and the more circles my mind went in, I started forgetting who I was and my brain was getting nauseous. This was a very trying time for me and I literally had no idea how to start going to therapy again. Although there have been about 2 or 3 sessions where I began to feel like I was understanding myself more, I wasn't getting the support I wanted. I kind of felt like I was being judged by her in a way. And when I felt like that, I wasn't truly opening up to her and to me, that is a sign that this relationship wasn't a right fit. Why am I even going to therapy if I'm afraid my therapist would judge me? The things we talked about were things I talked to my girlfriends about. But my reason for going to a therapist were to get an objective view on the situation. Even though my therapist wanted to defend me and "help" me with my problems, I felt like she wanted me to move on. "Get on with your life!" she would say sometimes. Although she was absolutely right, there are some situations where things like that take time. She wasn't walking with me on this journey. She was trying to drag me through it. Looking at her watch and at the clock on the wall didn't make me feel like she wanted to help. Holding in yawns and rolling her eyes didn't help either (although, I wanna say she had a lazy eye. No, still, she shouldn't have rolled her eyes).

I know I have to move on with my life. I just have to. But her approach to helping me was not really a vocal one. She listened to me vent but had very little to say about it. So what now? What do I do now that I told you all of this stuff that happened since the last time I saw you? I'm paying almost $200 a month for you to help me and I'm leaving your office feeling like my money is not going toward a better me.

Although I left her office knowing I was able to let out a lot of stress and pent up emotion, that was basically all I felt - less filled up but not whole a lot lighter. I still carried my stresses with me after our sessions. And had no idea what to do with them. So two days ago as I wrote her a check for my last session with her, I told her that I would give her a call when I want to meet again. But for right now, I wanted to "mellow out and figure things out on my own." She took it just fine.

In retrospect, this has shown me what I do want in my next therapist when I look for someone to help me. I know what to vocalize and seek and hopefully knowing what I want now will help me find that in the future. Maybe trying to be my own therapist for a few weeks will help me understand me more. One thing I've been telling a lot of people is that 2013 is my year. I told her that on my way out and her last words to me were, "Make it happen." And I think I will.