"The earth is crammed with heaven." -elizabeth barrett browning

processing the session with the wee one today. it's sort of haunting me. i sort of feel like i did a crap job. made her worry about the day that we have to end our working relationship. and i'm worried about it, too. i almost cried with her at the thought of her and i not seeing each other, and her not having a replacement since she declares she won't want one. and i almost cried at the thought of her potentially not trying anymore with me because, "what's the point? to say it all just to have to tell someone else it all again?" i almost agree with her.  i feel like i lost it, i didn't pay attention to the earlier tears she was crying. why was she crying those tears? was she crying about how i was talking like other therapists, saying it's the drugs when she wanted me to say "it's you," as she linked it to the excuse of the drugs her mom uses and gets for her own issues.  "it's my mom." "it's me. it's not the drugs. it's me!" and i rattled  off all the things it is, drugs being part of what she is allowing into her life, the decisions she's making, her stage of development and her traumatized brain. and yes, it's her. and more. but did i leave her feeling helpless and hopeless. was i overly-negative? and did i not build her back up as she needed before saying goodbye sweetly to lois and meeting her mom in the car? she left with the quickly shut up tears, a desire to smoke a bowl, and a plan to get a kickass journal to mimic "cruel intentions" for her renewed love to writing her constantly confused thoughts and show them to proudly week-to-week. i'm sorta anxious about the two and a half week separation (a "grip," as the wee one taught me: a long long time), since i'm missing our next two appointments to go on vaca.  i'm sort of nervous, too, about if she'll give up on me, as someone she can trust, and not come back, or at least shut down, aware that the separation is inevitable. and nervous, too, about the things i didn't say and could have even though our session was extra-long again. [so odd, but i'm not usually plagued by such anxiety about what i could have/should have said.] and i'm wishing i didn't have to leave her now, almost as a practice for what's to come. and this is all surprising to me. i really didn't think i'd get that attached. but i am. and how will i handle it? it's a new thought to me. and then i feel like a crap therapist that i've let myself get attached, and even worse that i've let them attach to me. they don't need me, but i think some of them feel like it now, after meeting so regularly. and i don't get to end on their terms, it's mine. my time is up (or will be in two months) and therefore they are forced to move on. odd. makes me uncomfortable. and i cringe. if there's any way to continue with this extra special wee fighter, i would.  is there any way? i wrack my brain tonight as i think of what i didn't say and what i will do with our last two months together. i wish that i could get hired on and continue, even if in a different capacity, just to carry on with these dear ones. oh, i'm crazy. and oh, yes, i love this work and i hate change and separation. and hate having to trust that this time is not meant to mend it all. because i want to see them all healed and whole. it's impossible but a hope that is in line with who i am, my desires and my deep deep hopes. i have to hold them up with open hands even as i meet with them, but especially as i send them on their ways.


"the biggest tragedy for me is when something beautiful wants to grow and something else stops it." --mary pipher, letters to a young therapist