Friday 7/22/22 Retiring

 So I was at work on Wednesday, checking my email in the afternoon. I had an email from Mike (therapist), with the subject line "session". I thought oh thank God we can set up a session finally! I opened it immediately, feeling just a little giddy and excited, only to read that 1. Mike wants to know how I'm doing, and 2. he's retiring. 

Wait, what?

Retiring??? No. I must have read that wrong. I read the email again. He's retiring in October. He wants to meet to discuss this. 

Oh shit.

Seriously? Retiring? No. No, it can't be. He wants to meet August 3rd at 8am, if I can. I, of course, am scheduled to work that day. I make a decision - I'm calling in sick that day so that I can meet up with him. If not that morning, then who knows when? He's been out what, 6? 8 weeks from back surgery? I've been struggling. I need to see him. I check with a few people to see if they could possibly switch me days. No one can. Of course. So calling in it is. Which makes me feel guilty, but I have to do it. 

Then the emotions hit. I race to the break room and cry. I can't seem to stop. Luckily only one person walked in on this as I cried for 45 minutes, trying to pull myself together because I have patients to take care of dammit! 

I texted my hubby and best friend the news. They tried to help me see it in a positive light. Maybe this will be good for me, I'll get a different perspective on things. It doesn't help. See, Mike has been a solid fixture in my life for almost 10 years. Ten years. He's been there for me at my worst, he's seen me at my best. He's kept me from killing myself several times. He's always there for me. He knows me. He knows my history inside and out. I'm comfortable with him. I freaking love this man! (in a platonic way, of course). I can't imagine not being able to see him again. I know he has several therapists in his group that he can refer me to, but . . . it's just not the same. It'll be like I'm starting over from scratch. Having to rehash all of my traumas and history. Trying to build a foundation and relationship and trust with a new person. It all sounds so awful. Truly awful.

I'm trying to stay positive about this because the last thing I need is something else to cause me to spiral. But it's hard. In trying to remain positive, I decided to make him a card:

The inside:

I have to make it light. Funny, even. I don't want to let him know how much I'm reeling. I wrote a rather long paragraph in the card, thanking him for everything he's done for me. Wishing him a happy retirement. Because that's what I'm supposed to do, right? Take the high road, be an adult. Even though I don't want to be. Even though I feel lost and - almost - betrayed. 

As of right now I don't know what the future holds for me therapy wise. I'll find out August 3rd. Until then I'll just keep fumbling along, doing the best I can. It's all I can do.