It happened to me. AND I’m surviving it.

I’m still kinda in denial that it’s happened, but I’m surviving it.

A month ago, my therapist of 19 months told me she was leaving. I’ve been in therapy since 2003 and had previously seen 5 therapists in that span. I’d seen her the shortest time, but she was far and away the best one I’d ever had. Shesaw me. She made me feel safe. She diagnosed me with CPTSD and DID after having been wrongly diagnosed with everything under the sun by therapists that made me feel like I was crazy/psychotic/wrong. She made it okay for me to talk about memories I had kept hidden from myself for 40 years.

To say I was devastated would be an understatement.

At the same time, I knew she was getting married in the fall and that her fiancé worked in another state. It had been a fear of mine for a while, one I’d never verbalized. I wasn’t shocked, but I was, ya know?

I was transferred to another therapist in the same practice that she picked. We continued to see one another twice a week. The new therapist came to one of our sessions to meet me. We had our last session two weeks ago tomorrow. She wrote me an amazing amazing letter that I will treasure forever. She made me a bracelet embossed with a word in it and told me the story of why she picked that word. She taught me so many things and I will be forever grateful to her.

Today, the new therapist and I had our third session. It’s a bit wonky because I have DID and my young parts are still struggling because they miss my old therapist. They really grew to trust her. They also grew to trust ME because of what I learned from her. I trust the new therapist. We’re starting to open up, though. I can feel it happening already. In 3 sessions! It’s all because of the work I did with my old therapist.

It’s crazy to me how this therapist already knows more of the real me in 3 sessions then my old old therapist did in 9 years.