A year ago today, I called a therapist named Zooey. I’d been looking for a new therapist and at this point had interviewed at least six. I’d just had an absolutely awful consultation with a woman who didn’t even wear shoes during the hour I was there. I called my “Mom” to discharge some of my frustration with the whole process and she reminded me that I used to go to the bookstore after each session with my old therapist when I lived upstate. It was where I processed my emotions and thoughts, especially if the session had been tough.
So I went back to the drawing board and started my search over again. This time, I focused on therapists that my insurance covered, but that also had offices near my favorite bookstore in NYC. Zooey’s name stood out because my mentor in college had the same (real) first name. So I googled her and found her Psychology Today profile and her website. She sounded absolutely lovely and listed trauma and abuse as issues she worked with. So I called and left a message. She called me back within the hour and we set up an initial appointment. Then she sent a follow-up email with directions to her office and said she looked forward to meeting me in person. I was very impressed with her already, just from the phone call.
Yet a year later, I’m going through the exact same process all over again. I can’t believe we didn’t even last a year. That makes me so sad and admittedly embarrassed.
I really hope this doesn’t become an annual ordeal of searching for a new therapist.