Posted by Dinah on May 17, 2005, at 14:01:37
I'm very melancholy this week. And angry. There's so much about termination on the board.
And my pastor's leaving soon. This week he gave the sort of speech that leaving pastors give. About how much he'd enjoyed this ministry and how he hoped we'd sign the pew bible he'd be taking because he enjoyed looking back and seeing those people who touched his life and having specific memories about each one.
My therapist asked if I was going to tell him goodbye. No probably not. Or write him a letter telling him that he was the reason I chose this particular church. Also no. We might possibly go to the reception. I might even sign the d*mn pew bible.
But the truth is that I wanted to yell "Scr*w you!" to the poor man - a man I really don't have a close personal relationship with to begin with. It brought back so many old losses. And it made me so angry with my therapist.
Because one of these days he's likely to make such a imbecilic worthless piece of drivel speech to me. About how he's happy we've worked together, and how he's grown from having known me. And that'll just be plain cr*p.
I hate loss. I'm angry with those who have died and abandoned me. I'm angry with those who have moved away and abandoned me. And all the pretty words in the world won't make me less angry if my therapist abandons me.
My therapist let me sit with my anger for a while, which just made me more angry. Then he reassured me about the usual things. That if he gets a full time job, he'll keep a part time practice. That he won't leave town because his wife has ties here. That he has known of therapy relationships that don't end until death. He assured me that he knew how much it would mean to me. I told him about my joke about wrapping myself around his legs so that he'd have to peel me off, and then peel my fingers from his door jamb. And that it wasn't a joke. He assured me that he wouldn't terminate me with platitudes.
He asked me what was the first abandonment I could remember, and how I felt. I don't really remember the early ones. We left Daddy to go to live with Grandma. We left Grandma to go to live with Daddy. I have no recollection of either. I remember my dog dying, but I was in my twenties, and technically I killed her, so I shouldn't really blame her.
There has to be some reason that I react with such vehemence to life passages that others seem to take with reasonable grace.
I don't even want the pain of grief to stop, because I'd rather have the pain and the connection, than have no pain at all and no connection at all.
I don't connect often. Maybe that's all it is. I don't connect often and I'd rather cut off an arm than have those connections broken.
poster:Dinah
thread:498985
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/psycho/20050513/msgs/498985.html