And Then There Were Four

Two and a half years into seeing my current therapist and we’ve now moved from three sessions per week to four. Only one more to go before I max out on possible sessions!

I wanted to write about this because I know people still find their way to this blog and it felt important to share. I think I always imagined that only “very crazy” (aka unstable/unsafe) individuals needed therapy so frequently. I was anxious to transition from once weekly to twice, and it was another several months before I agreed to three times a week. Seeing her four times just seemed insanely extravagant and indulgent.

Which, to be fair, it still sorta feels that way, but I’m doing it anyway.

Not because I’m crazy or unstable or unsafe. In fact, I think that the more stable and safe I become, the more space has opened for us to do deeper, more connected, more intimate therapeutic work. It certainly isn’t any easier or less painful, but it’s difficult in a way that feels more productive.

I’d always figured that the only way I could get someone (especially a therapist) to care about me and my experience in this world was to make as much noise and create as much chaos as possible. I need to be demonstrative and dramatic with my expressions of pain, anger, sadness, loneliness, etc. I figured the only way anyone could really SEE me is if I screamed as loudly as possible.

Apparently that’s not true and once I stopped screaming, I was actually able to have far more fulfilling conversations.

I still can’t believe she believes me. I still can’t believe she cares. I still can’t believe we have so much love and compassion and respect in this strange, complicated relationship we’ve built.

And, as time passes, my romantic love and erotic attraction to her seems to grow more and more. But we talk about it and she holds the space for me to fill with whatever comes up, which is the most beautiful thing ever.

It’s also seemingly the most painful and the more I get my needs met, the more I pull away from her because just HAVING needs is terrifying, let alone getting them met.

There’s also a very real sense that this cannot last forever and I dread the moment when I will inevitably lose her and lose this. I told her that I imagine I’m supposed to be working towards some sort of “graciously indifferent” state in regards to our relationship, which she thought was ridiculous because we grow closer and closer all the time.

So then what IS the end goal here? This WILL eventually be taken from me and I guess I just want to be prepared for that. I want to know when and how that will happen and I want to understand how to prepare myself for it.

Alas, things are never so simple.

Anyway. Therapy is the same beautiful mess as always and I just want people to know that if you see your therapist several times a week, it’s totally cool 🙂