A Tragedy Today

I’m a big advocate of talk therapy. I have had a handful of therapists over my life, and I have certainly felt the benefit. I often recommend it to people that go at it themselves, that the idea of sharing their questions with a professional can help them deal with the darker parts of their lives. It takes time to establish a therapist to client relationship, having the necessary dynamics of speaking to those issues that bring a person to the couch in the first place. 

I had found a person that I was quite comfortable with, she had an authenticity that makes it easy to talk about those issues that are very personal in my life. I stopped seeing her a few weeks ago because she had called in sick several times over the last couple of months, and I was frustrated so I cut ties. It had been about six weeks, so when I went in for a session with another professional, I asked whether she was still seeing clients or whether she had left dealing with her own personal issues. The receptionist looked at me with one of those far away painful glances, and said my name, and then informed me that my therapist had passed away a week ago. I was stunned, and she knew I would be. The words just went past me and didn’t register immediately.

I really didn’t know how to react. She then told me my appointment was in a half hour so we had a solemn chuckle and I acknowledged I would process such terrible news. I felt tears welling up, because no one likes to lose someone that they have sort of trusted with their life. That’s where my advocacy for talk therapy comes into play.

I took that moment and went off by myself, gave my sister a call, and then went back to sit in the lounge. I did a search for my therapist and an obit, and I found a memorial for her on social media. In it, I discovered the sort of commentary that suggested a sudden tragedy no one anticipated. I put things together in my head and came to the conclusion that she was responsible for her personal loss. Without verbalizing directly the outcome, I kept it in my head.

I found myself teary and barely able to maintain my composure. I began to hurt for my therapist, and suddenly realized just how human our lives can be. Anyone is vulnerable, and today I discovered that even someone with their hand on the button of recovery has their own demons to battle. I realized today that everyone has a fallible nature, and sometimes a disease is responsible for their own demise. I returned home afterward and just tried to breathe.