Sometimes it takes time to reach a conclusion. I know this to be true. And yet, yet I find myself struggling with that. It’s not that I don’t have patience – I do – but it seems it’s a very specific type of patience I possess. I have near endless patience with children in particular and a reasonable amount of patience for people in general. What I don’t have is patience with myself. When it comes to me I want to know now. No waiting period, no trial and error. I want the results right away with no delay. Clear-cut and ready to serve.
Unfortunately that’s not the way the world works. Or maybe it’s more of a fortunate than an unfortunate? In some ways I think it’s probably a good thing to have a little frustration in your life. It gives you the drive to focus, to set goals – to strive for things.
I am now into my eighth week of therapy with my new therapist and I’m still very much struggling to come to a decision as to whether or not she really is the right person for me to be doing this very important work with.
Two weeks ago I finally plucked up the courage to actually tell B. (my new therapist) that I feel there is no connection between us, that there is something absolutely vital missing from our relationship, and that I’m not entirely sure whether or not we should continue working together. I held my breath, counted to three in my head and waited for her reaction. Only there was none. So I carried on, trying to quantify what it is I feel is missing, hoping that at some point she’d say something back to me. Which, eventually, she did. But only after I actually asked her what she thought of what I had just said. Only then did she spring into action, so to speak.
I think one of the things I find difficult with B. is the fact that she very much seems to be putting her therapist hat on (as opposed to just being herself, doing therapy for a living). It seems to me that she is often holding her own genuine reaction back in order to give me the ‘correct response’ to whatever I have just said. Now, B. is still in training and so I can understand the wish to do things The Right Way, that she may not yet have the experience to trust her instincts. Going by the book when you’re starting out is, of course, a lot safer and I’m sure that she will, eventually, find her own style – find a way to be more congruent and personal and genuine. But, the bottom line is that until she gets there I’m not sure that I want to be her guinea pig.
As I think I’ve mentioned before I went to see a few different therapists for initial assessments before being set up with B., and that I was turned down more than once, for various reasons. Having said that, regardless of their individual reason for turning me down (risk factor, not feeling able to offer what I need, being unable to find suitable timeslots on their schedules), they all seem to be saying this same thing – that I am a fairly challenging client and that what I need is long term therapy with a very experienced therapist.
So, here I am now, trying to decide whether or not it’s time to move on – yet at the same time worrying about what will happen if I do make that decision. Will I be able to find someone else who’s willing to take me on? What if I again feel that there is something lacking? Am I setting my hopes too high?
It’s not entirely a case of try and try again.
I mean, in many ways I suppose it is – but I am also very keen to not create a pattern of starting therapy with someone only to decide that that’s not quite right, either.
Even though I know that so far my pattern has actually been more in the opposite direction (sticking with something that isn’t quite right rather than face dealing with it) I am very aware that on paper it doesn’t take very many therapeutic Start-And-Stops to make it look like I’m not really committed to do the work, that I will inevitably always find a fault in order to repeat a pattern of moving on to the next bright thing.
Oh, I hear you all muttering that the solution here is pretty obvious, that sometimes you have to take a chance and that it is very possible that the next therapeutic experience won’t at all be a mere repetition of the one before, just like this one didn’t turn out to be a repetition of the one before. I know, I know.
I’m just a bit scared.