When I went into session today, I knew I wanted to discuss the threatening feelings around the relationship I have with my therapist, but I also knew it would be challenging to feel that extraordinarily vulnerable.

As with most difficult topics, I thought using the Zooey situation as a medium to communicate about our relationship would suffice for now. So I chose to share an email I’d written to Zooey last July; an email that I’d describe as one of the most shameful things I’ve ever written.

As a preface, Zooey and I had been having a conversation in session about boundaries and the nature of our relationship. I told her I was concerned that the relationship had become “unhealthy” and that I was struggling with the inconsistencies in regards to out-of-session contact. I wasn’t sure what I felt or thought, but I wanted to talk with her about it.

She responded by saying. “I don’t normally text or email with clients. It’s not that you’re special, I just think that works well for you.”

Seems innocuous enough, right? But it devastated me.

Here is that email, written and sent within 40 minutes after session had ended. In fact, I was so upset that I called my wife right afterwards, then hung up and drafted this email from my iPhone while sitting on a stoop at a realty office on Broadway. That is how strong my reaction was.

I was terrified out of my mind to share this, but I did. And now I’ll share it here:


The first thing I did when I left your office today was pull out my journal and write this quote down:

“Well I don’t normally text and e-mail with people. It’s not that you’re special or I like you better, but…”

Thanks, Zooey. Thank you so very much for the reminder that I am in fact not special. The decades of various forms of neglect, abuse, and torture we’ve endured had not made that quite apparent enough.

And here’s the thing: I know that as a therapist, you’re not supposed to play favorites or become over-invested in us or our treatment. I know that it’s important to have boundaries in order to keep the relationship therapeutic. So if you did feel that perhaps I am a special client that you particularly enjoy working with, it would be inappropriate for you to share that with me. Fine.

But to go out of your way to preface a statement by emphasizing that you do NOT think I am special, nor do you like me better was just…..I mean, what the actual fuck? That was so hurtful.

The fascinating part of all of this is that you made that statement on the final day of a month where we had fourteen sessions. We’d been in contact nearly every day (or at least someone had). You sought out a new supervisor to help with my case. You’ve called us at night and texted back when we were upset. You’ve been coordinating with Wife to help us. You stayed late at the hospital and were late to your personal plans to make sure we were safe. You got this workbook to help move forward with therapy with various alters. You’ve gone out of your way to make sure we get attentive and effective treatment. That feels special to me.

As clients, I think we all want to feel and believe we’re special….that our therapist loves and cares about us and secretly prefers us to other more boring or difficult clients. That’s our fantasy to do what we will with. For me, I struggle so much with accepting even basic compassion and care from you (or anyone, really). It has been a challenge to not counter every good interaction we have with an internal follow-up to remind myself that I’m just another client and you’re just doing your job and that you don’t actually care. Sometimes I tell myself that you really do care and maybe even do feel a little more invested in my treatment because I’m intelligent and interesting and generally cooperative and articulate. Whether that’s true or not is irrelevant – it helps me feel more worthy of treatment and it makes it a little more okay that sometimes we need a lot of extra treatment.

But now you’ve taken that from me. And that really fucking sucks.

Especially because earlier today I tried, but couldn’t find any words, to express how much I love you. Perhaps I could have just said the words themselves, but that felt both too raw and potentially inappropriate.

But I do love you. I love you so much it overwhelms me. The time in between talking or seeing you can feel excruciating. It’s hard to remember if you’re even real when I’m not directly communicating with you. Weekends are especially challenging because the time between Thursday and Monday feels eternal and I’m always convinced that by Monday afternoon, you’ll have forgotten about us or stopped caring altogether. If we (well, some of us) could text you every single day just to reassure ourselves that you’re alive and that you remember us, we would.

And THAT is what I meant today by “unhealthy.” I feel as though I shouldn’t feel as attached and invested in you as I do. It feels like I’m doing something wrong…like there is something perverse or damaging about the bond we share. I haven’t exactly had a model for what it means to have a healthy relationship with someone in a position of authority and responsibility. Most of my relationships have ended up perverted and damaged.

I know this isn’t the case. You didn’t neglect or abuse me. But you did hurt me. Us. I can’t believe you would say such a thing. I just can’t figure it out or make sense out of it. I mean, honestly: why?? What was the point?! People don’t just randomly say shit like that!

I can’t read your mind, so obviously I’d eventually like to hear your reasoning behind whatever the hell that even was. But I don’t want to come in next week. I think I just need a break. This week has been so traumatic and now you’ve hurt me in a way that feels unbearable. I know that’s dramatic and you’re probably going to pin this all on my own transference, but whatever. You play a part in this relationship, too. No matter what you say, I know it’s not all just about me and my needs and what I get out of it. Relationships don’t work like that, even therapeutic ones.

So I think after I get back from vacation might be a good time to resume sessions. I don’t know. I need to think about this a lot more. Maybe it’s time for us to just move on altogether.

Either way, one of us will let you know.

Until then, we’ll be replaying your quote over and over on a loop in our head….Thanks so much for that.

Her response, 90 minutes later:

I am sorry for my poor choice of words, and I am sorry that I hurt you. I hope to see you on Monday so we can talk about this more.

You can probably guess that I went to that Monday session, but nothing was resolved. We didn’t really address the comment she made. She did say, “Andi, you must know you’re special. Your willingness to be vulnerable, your self-awareness and ability to articulate yourself is unparalleled. You must know that about yourself.” (I mean, yes and no?). We also never made it back around to have a conversation about the potentially unhealthy nature of our relationship or my endless confusion over boundaries.
Because, like most things in my time with her, we never really talked about anything.

16 thoughts on “Special

  1. ambivalencegirl says:

    I can’t even read the email because it brings me back to my own embarrassment and shame for all the emails that I’ve written. I’m curious how you will work through this now. But really, I think we both just need to look at the lesson learned. And possibly the feelings that lead us to begin those emails in our minds and try to tend to the person trapped inside of us and nourish her in kinder and caring ways. There is nothing so shameful about us and letting go of that would be a great beginning.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Rachel says:

    Sigh.. at her. Now I have an even more clear understanding as to why you told me that your situation with Zooey mirrored what I went through with Delaney. Your email brought back a lot of pain and memory of how Delaney communicated (or didn’t communicate) with me, and how your email is so something I would have written. She was deflecting her own discomfort with the intimacy of the relationship, and did it in a hurtful and thoughtless manner. I am so disappointed in her inability to provide you with what you needed in that THERAPEUTIC relationship. It was not therapeutic, and I’m so saddened that your vulnerability was left all alone, to collect embarrassment and shame that didn’t belong to it. My heart goes out to the you who sat on those steps and wrote this email. I really relate to that pain and confusion and utter unknowing of how to make sense of someone who wasn’t acknowledging what was happening.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Andi says:

      Yeah. It was very painful for me to read what you were going through with Delaney, but I was able to offer you support and compassion that I couldn’t offer myself. Which I think ultimately allowed me to indirectly be kind to myself? Deflecting is a very good way of putting it. Zooey did that a lot. She never wanted to stay present with me or with the emotions/issues/whatever. I think I felt that very deeply, but struggled to understand what it was. Luckily, I am able to receive support, validation, and compassion now that allows me to work through some of that loneliness and shame. Thank you ❤

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Zoe says:

    To this day I will never understand how she managed to make it as a therapist. I’m sorry to say this because I know what she meant and I feel like every time I get upset at her and say something about her actions as a therapist I’m somehow hurting you, but seriously. I think she really wasn’t used to having a patient as intelligent as you. No offense to anyone else, but you are incredibly intelligent and aware. You pay attention to details and her vagueness and lacking vocabulary and “approach” methods were really a recipe for disaster. She might have been a great therapist for someone with an inferior intellect or exceptionally drugged down brain that could not realize her shortcomings as a professional.

    You saw and heard them, thus they hurt you, and she couldn’t handle someone who I truly believe is a communicator she could only WISH to be.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Andi says:

      Ha. You and I both! I appreciate your sensitivity around this. I’ve come a long way, but yes – it can still be hard to swallow the reality of what she did. But you’re right and I need to hear it. As far as what you said about intelligence – I think you’re absolutely on the nose with that one. I’ve often felt as though I intimidated her and threatened her ego in a way she just couldn’t manage. She lacks self-awareness to even know how I was impacting her. I often joke now that she needs to stick with really unsophisticated patients with boyfriend problems or work adjustment issues. She can’t handle anyone with any long-term attachment issues. Or anyone with an IQ above average.

      You’re the best. Thanks for this. x


  4. Amb says:

    Oh, my… I thought that she was pretty terrible already, but this…I am so sorry that she said something like that to you. It was inappropriate and callous. And then to not even address it and to justify it by trying to convince you that you knew better than to believe that you weren’t special, even though she said it…ugh.

    You have nothing to be ashamed of. I think it took incredible courage to write that letter. You called out her fallacies and that was so brave.

    I can’t imagine building such a strong bond with someone only to have them treat you the way that she did. You deserve so much better and I hope that nothing like that ever happens to you again. xxx

    Liked by 1 person

    • Andi says:

      Yeah, she was the worst 😦

      Thank you for being so supportive around the letter. I think I’m beginning to feel less shame around that. At least (unlike her) I was self-aware and honest with myself. I also desperately hope nothing like this ever happens again.

      Liked by 1 person

      • Amb says:

        Absolutely. It was almost as if you’d taken on the roll as the clinician in the relationship. You were aware that the boundaries were unhealthy and when you tried to address that with her she shrugged it off. I’m really glad that you’re beginning to feel less shame. That whole situation was a reflection of her inadequacies, not yours. You’ve come so far, Andi.. Seriously. It’s admirable. xxx

        Liked by 1 person

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