Tough News


For anyone who is in therapy, was in therapy, or is considering it, this one is for you.

My first visit to my therapist during the tear down of my pivotal relationship was pretty torturous. I went in thinking that I was going to get a “yes man” who was going to agree with everything I said, tell me everything was fine, and that my life was going to be perfect. She was going to quell my doubts and tell me my relationship was peachy and I didn’t have to change a thing because I was right and knew everything.


I lived in Jersey at the time, in the home I rented with my addict boyfriend who left for rehab a few days after we signed the lease. My therapist was all the way in Bay Ridge, so I spent the hour long commute in pure panic anxiety because, well, that’s what I did.

I walked into the office and some soothing music was on, which made me way more uncomfortable, and this cute little German lady came out of her office with a stern warmth about her. It was weird energy that I didn’t understand, but maybe that was because she lived in a healthy world of boundaries, and I lived on another planet.

I sat down in the room to fill out paperwork, and when she walked in we started. I’m a story teller, as you may have imagined, and need to give full explanation of every detail so I come across as perfectly understood, so about ten minutes into me droning on, she commented about my posture, and how I have basically white knuckled my way through proving to her that everything was OK.

See at this point, I was convinced that he was going to come back from rehab and everything was going to be OK. The lies and stolen money weren’t going to be the elephant in the room. He was going to stay clean and go to meetings. We were going to have our fairytale ending.

So by the end of the session, which was basically an introduction, she recommended that I get this book about codependency. At this point I was like, “Fuck off.” But I smiled and graciously accepted the advice.

I think I maybe went two more times when he was in rehab, but once he came back I abandoned my recovery and made my life dedicated to making sure he stayed clean.

He didn’t.

So when we broke up, I mustered up all of my courage to pull up her info from my phone and book another appointment. She welcomed me back with open arms, and through the rest of the sessions, once I really started to do the work, scribbled all over that damn book and went to meetings, I saw clearly.

She made a mention to me about my progress. How my speaking and posture have changed and how I just looked so sad and tired when I first walked into her office. Another “Fuck you” kind of bubbled to the surface at that point, but it was also a relief to hear. I wasn’t that right now. I had made progress. And I should be proud.

Now obviously the work doesn’t stop there. Its a 24/7/365 job. But its a job worth doing. So if you find that someone is trying t be frank with you and you just don’t want to hear it, take a minute to digest. They might be totally wrong, but they also might be right. Get help and stay witchy ( *)