Thank you for your letter and for reaching out for support in this difficult situation.

You are right; therapy is supposed to be a safe place where you can share your thoughts, experiences, and feelings without feeling judged, criticized, or condemned by your therapist. Keeping a nonjudgmental environment is one of the most critical things a therapist can do. Carl Rogers encouraged therapists to approach people with what he called unconditional positive regard, which is essentially the attitude of “no matter what you share, I still regard you highly.” That is truly a healing condition.

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There are many sides to this to be considered. The first is whether the therapist is actually judging you or whether you are misreading his expressions. While I’m certainly not trying to put the blame on you, it is important to consider that there may be something as simple as a miscommunication going on.

One of the critical aspects of the therapeutic relationship is openness. It is vital for both parties—therapist and person in therapy—to be able to communicate their feelings and experience to the other. In doing so, you deepen the relationship and trust builds, which helps you feel safer.

Starting over with another therapist is always an option, but I recommend that as a last step instead of a first. Try starting by talking to your therapist and giving it some time to see how things change (or don’t change).

With that said, I encourage you to share your concerns with your therapist. It could be that he is unaware of his expressions and how they come across. Your sharing your experience with him can help him become more aware and give him an opportunity to change his behavior. It could also be that he does have some judgments and concerns about what you are sharing that he may be able to express to you. In that case, the two of you can have an ongoing dialogue and perhaps resolve the issue in your therapy.

Based solely on what you have written, there is also a possibility that the therapist is actually responding neutrally and you are reading into his nonverbal responses; in therapy, we call this “projection.” Projection is when a person projects his or her feelings about themselves or a situation onto another person and views the other person as holding those feelings. In this case, for example, it could be that you feel judgment toward yourself and, as such, are seeing it in the therapist.

Having this dialogue can help you to resolve your internal conflict and make an informed decision going forward. By discussing your concerns with your therapist, you can choose your next step in a way that empowers you and not from a reactive space. That alone can provide a great healing experience.

Starting over with another therapist is always an option, but I recommend that as a last step instead of a first. Try starting by talking to your therapist and giving it some time to see how things change (or don’t change). If you don’t feel better about the relationship after a while, that might be the time to find another therapist to work with. The most important thing is that you are getting what you need from the therapeutic relationship, and only you can be the judge of that.

Best wishes in the journey,
Lisa

Thank you very much for writing to me specifically, even though you don’t trust me. I think it takes great courage to reach out and describe one’s uncomfortable life situation to someone who is a stranger. You may be skeptical, but you have come forward and made contact. That means something. I hope you go one step further.

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Given that I did respond, you seem to conclude I just want you to come see me and pay me—that I’m in it for the money. It’s true I need to make money and pay the bills, just as everyone does, but the unvarnished truth is I’m answering your letter because it’s my job. What you do next is entirely up to you.

Without spending time with you and getting to the root of your feelings, I can’t offer a guess as to why you think the way you do, but I can readily see you’re unhappy with your life and worried that just about everyone you know is out to get you, in one way or another. You say the only people you can trust are your parents, and that you have no friends. You have a girlfriend, but you’re afraid she will leave you for someone else. It makes sense that you’d be unhappy.

You don’t have to live this way. These thoughts, accurate or not, are harmful in and of themselves because the stresses and discomfort they cause affect you both physically and emotionally.

You describe that you are living in constant fear that someone will take advantage of you and cause you harm. You don’t have to live this way. These thoughts, accurate or not, are harmful in and of themselves because the stresses and discomfort they cause affect you both physically and emotionally. You may know that stress can cause a multitude of physical and emotional reactions that may be detrimental to your health.

It always helps to discuss and bounce around your ideas with another person. Psychotherapy might be very useful to you. You’ve written a clear account of an aching life ruled by skepticism, mistrust, and suspicion. You name your feelings and define your life situation with great clarity. Clear self-expression goes with clear thinking. You might find a therapist who includes journal work as part of a treatment plan. Or you might prefer talk therapy. Sometimes you have to try a few different things, or even therapists, to find the right fit. But if you believe nothing else, please believe help is out there. Perhaps the hardest part for you will be trusting in that, and making the initial call.

While you and a therapist identify ways to alleviate your painful feelings, the therapist can help evaluate their accuracy. Especially if you don’t have many people you’re close to, or that you trust, a fresh and objective perspective from someone who knows what to look for can be useful. Fear responses and trust issues are often based on things that happened in the past, and uncovering what those things might be is an important part of finding healing solutions in the present.

The kind of therapy or treatment you seek and find helpful may depend to some extent on your tastes, but I strongly advise you to make the effort. With some work, guidance, and reflection, you may find that your life (and perhaps your blood pressure) is better for it.

Take care,
Lynn

Thank you very much for reaching out. It takes courage to write and ask questions about experiences you’re not sure are “normal.” You explain that you have disturbing thoughts sometimes, ideas that just pop into your brain and sound crazy and awful, and make you feel terrible for thinking of them. You’re worried these thoughts might be an indication something is wrong, since they appear in your brain without your permission. You sound like you want to understand their meanings.

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First off, let me just say we all have strange, uninvited, or upsetting thoughts sometimes that seem to arise from nowhere and then simply pass through our minds. Of course, those ideas and images have to come from somewhere, and I would say they come from the unconscious. The unconscious is where dreams, feelings, emotions, and thoughts reside, in the background of our minds, but sometimes they break free of the unconscious and become suddenly conscious and it feels like they occur to us without warning. The unconscious can feel unusual, but remember it’s a source of creativity. We’re all free to imagine anything.

Often people feel afraid or guilty about their thoughts because thoughts can feel close to actions. But remember: thinking is not the same as doing.

We might see something that reminds us of something else, and a strange thought or feeling may arise. I’ll give you an example. The other day when I was in the elevator and the door opened, I saw a person standing in the lobby of my building and had a funny feeling. It was like I had seen this before, almost as though this had happened already—déjà vu, if you will—but the scene actually reminded me of a dream I had the night before. I had forgotten the dream until then, and remembering it made me feel strange. I was in the realm of my imagination for a moment, a bit out-of-reality while I remembered the dream. I was living briefly both in my imagination and in the real world around me. My unconscious mind and my conscious mind were seemingly in cahoots. It felt odd and scary.

Although you don’t say this directly, I have the suspicion you might not just feel odd but also guilty about what pops into your mind. Often people feel afraid or guilty about their thoughts because thoughts can feel close to actions. But remember: thinking is not the same as doing.

It is interesting to try to figure out how the human mind works. The examples you mention include violent actions—hurting others, hurting yourself. It might be helpful to consult with an expert in how the mind works to see what is bringing these types of thoughts to the foreground at this time. Is something happening in your life, something to do with work or love or friendship that is bothering you, perhaps even without your knowing it? Have these feelings been occurring to you for a long while? Weeks? Months? Longer?

Working with a therapist might help you understand your thoughts better and also feel comforted. You won’t be alone. You seem to feel alone in what you experience, and having someone on your side might alleviate your anxiety and help you get to know yourself better, too.

Thanks again for writing. I wish you luck, happiness, hopefulness, and most of all peace.

Take care,
Lynn

I am so sorry for your loss. You are understandably grieving. You’ve lost your partner unexpectedly, and if that weren’t enough to cope with, you are also trying to take care of your grieving children—who are likely trying to make sense of an incomprehensible situation. Of course you are struggling.

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You get overwhelmed because your reserves of emotional energy are depleted. Having enough to give to three children is challenging in the best of circumstances. Finding ways to give under these circumstances requires superhuman strength. Additionally, if you are feeling bad about taking time for yourself, that “me time” people recommend isn’t replenishing you but rather adding guilty feelings to the mix. I’d be surprised if you weren’t struggling.

Feeling lost and disconnected and sad and angry are absolutely natural responses to all of this. Grief is complex.

You ask if you are afraid of losing your children or afraid they will bring painful memories of your husband. You also wonder if your anger is a factor. The answers are inside you, but based on what you’ve related, in all likelihood yes—to all of it, and probably more. Your world has changed swiftly and dramatically, and not by any choice of your own. Feeling lost and disconnected and sad and angry are absolutely natural responses to all of this. Grief is complex.

The stages of grief—denial, bargaining, anger, depression, and acceptance—do not necessarily flow smoothly or quickly. Many people move from one stage to another and back again as memories and feelings are triggered. There is no timeline for moving through your grief and integrating it. Time will help, but so will finding the right kind of support.

If you haven’t already started working with a therapist in your area, I recommend that you find one for yourself and for your children, either together or separately. Having a safe and supportive place to work through all the feelings that come with such a loss and major life transition can help you heal and find your way back to your children … and yourself.

Best of luck,
Erika

I imagine it took a lot of courage to share this deeply painful experience with a doctor and to write in and share it here, too. It seems like you are ready to begin to address the past trauma and take a look at how it might be impacting your life in the present.

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While I cannot make a diagnosis with the information you provided here, it does sound possible that you are dealing with posttraumatic stress (PTSD) related to the sexual abuse you experienced as a child. Whether or not you actually meet the diagnostic criteria for PTSD, there is probably a connection between your past abuse and the problems you are dealing with today. These problems—difficulty trusting, unexplained anger, periods of depression, conflicted feelings about children, and nightmares—are warning signs that an underlying issue needs to be addressed.

Whether or not you actually meet the diagnostic criteria for PTSD, there is probably a connection between your past abuse and the problems you are dealing with today.

We are very adaptive beings. We figure out what we need to do to survive a situation. As a child, you probably developed coping mechanisms that allowed you to get through the trauma of sexual abuse and survive. Unfortunately, the coping mechanisms that facilitate survival in a traumatic environment can create problems when they are applied in a healthier environment. For example, you say you have difficulty trusting people; as a child who was sexually abused by your stepfather, learning not to trust people was an adaptive way to prevent abuse at the hand of others. Using mistrust as a way to prevent further abuse probably also allowed you to feel a sense of control over your life. As an adult, however, this mistrust may prevent you making yourself vulnerable to others, which is a key ingredient to happy, healthy relationships.

The good news: there absolutely is hope for healing from this. I have worked, successfully, with many people over the years who have similar stories. We have worked together to help them heal from the pain of the past traumas and to gain insight into how the traumas impact their lives in the present. This insight creates the opportunity to find new ways of being in the present—ways that don’t create obstacles for living full, healthy lives.

I encourage you to find a therapist near you who can partner with you on this journey. You deserve to live a full and healthy life, too!

Best wishes,

Sarah

First, thanks for writing. Second, I’m sorry to hear about your travails; I can only imagine the exhausting and frightening roller-coaster you have been riding. Finally, this may or may not surprise you, but even as a therapist I can relate to your question, “What kind of therapy is best?” I recently read an article by a newly licensed and overwhelmed therapist who said there are something like 200-plus “modalities” for therapists to choose from. It seems every other day someone is inventing a new approach to this, that, and the other. One research study says this approach is solid, the next one says the opposite. No wonder you’re confused!

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Fortunately, clarity can be found, because ultimately any good therapist—in my experience—is there to answer the question, “What is most helpful or healing for this particular person at this particular time?” Nearly all research studies come to the common conclusion that a safe and trusting therapeutic relationship is central to a helpful treatment. If someone has a viscerally strong response for or against one of my recommendations, my job is not to call this “resistance” but rather to listen, explore, and learn what’s going on.

So, point one: Is the therapist you’re talking to listening to you, as an individual, not a generic “anxious client” or “parent of an addicted child,” etc.?

In general, human beings prefer certainty to ambiguity, but offering too much certainty as a therapist is misleading and maybe even unethical. No one has a “lock” on what to do for sure. Now, practical suggestions can be helpful and reassuring. A common “tip” a therapist might offer someone in your situation might be to attend Al-Anon meetings. It certainly couldn’t hurt to try the program. There is much to be gained, even if it ultimately isn’t a good fit. (I’ll return to Al-Anon in a minute.) Other suggestions, such as “Take care of yourself” or “Don’t enable the addicted person” or “Detach with love” are a little more problematic, because although they might sound good, but what do they mean for you and your loved one, in this particular case, with whatever circumstances are happening at that time?

What if a person grew up in a family where setting certain types of boundaries, or stating one’s needs or limitations, drew traumatizing emotional fire? Are they being weak for not “speaking up” or “asserting their needs”? Trauma tells us something is still prohibited or dangerous, in the present, since we are wired for self-protection and safety above all. This is where self-help gives way to psychology, to empathic understanding and exploration of a person’s experiences, beliefs, and needs. Some parents may tell me, “Not giving my addicted child money feels like I’m killing them.” It would be easy for me to wave this off and urge them to withhold—“Hey, it’s for their own good”—but, again, that might be overly simplistic.

I would certainly recommend that you seek a therapist who has experience working with families and parents of addicted children, someone who can empathize and offer suggestions that make sense for you and your circumstances. A sense of safety and trust is essential.

I would certainly recommend that you seek a therapist who has experience working with families and parents of addicted children, someone who can empathize and offer suggestions that make sense for you and your circumstances. A sense of safety and trust is essential. One litmus test is, can you give the therapist feedback on what is or isn’t helpful and how does the therapist handle it? If they become defensive or claim it’s all your “resistance,” I say move on sooner rather than later.

Other factors you’ll want to look for: experience with addiction as it affects families; knowledge of treatment options (including local or community support groups besides or in addition to Al-Anon, and an understanding of Al-Anon, come to think of it!); and a patient but persistent curiosity about your experience. If it seems like a lot to ask, it may be; but to be honest, so what? Addiction is a merciless, complicated issue (some prefer to say “disease,” others don’t); it takes a lot from people and asks a lot from families, so it stands to reason people in therapy will, at least some of the time, need a lot from their therapists. It comes with the territory.

I also suggest you try at least two or three therapists to get a sense of different styles and so forth. This is not uncommon, and it makes a lot of sense.

Finally, a word on Al-Anon. Some swear by it, others say “stay away at all costs.” I think any rigid position is potentially harmful. I think trying it is a good idea. (It is also good role modeling for your child, who may not be so keen on attending meetings at first but may ultimately find them essential.) Try a few different meetings; attending one and disliking it is common, but no two meetings are the same and some fit better than others. Some are turned off by the spiritual talk, others aren’t. I suggest you take what you like and leave the rest. At the least, it allows people in your position to share their experience in a communal setting, offer practical ideas on what has worked and what hasn’t, and may possibly provide support for those, like you, who are overwhelmed and beleaguered. Addiction is a hurricane, and everyone in its path suffers.

I think it is terrific that you are seeking support. That shows a humility and inner wisdom that should be nurtured and supported by the right provider. Sometimes, what people need most is a sense of hope. There is no shame in seeking or wanting this. Yes, sugarcoating or fantasy can be dangerous, but so can hard-edged “realism,” since the truth is we just don’t know what will happen from one day to the next. It is a day at a time for all of us, therapists included.

Thank you for writing, and best of luck to you in your search.

Kind regards,
Darren

It sounds like you are still in a great deal of pain after the loss of this relationship. I hear you when you say moving on is more difficult than it sounds. I also hear you expressing a very common belief that you need to be able to speak to your ex in order to gain a sense of closure, but the good news is … you don’t. In fact, it often seems that continued contact with an ex (especially if the contact revolves around rehashing what went wrong) just leads to more questions, fewer answers, and an emptier feeling.

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I suspect the answers about what keeps you hanging on lie within you. I imagine the sense of “purgatory” you reference as being less about seeking answers from someone you can’t access and more about the inability to access answers you already possess. It sounds like you have spent a good bit of time trying to resolve this by talking to her, by talking to your friends and family, and thinking things through on your own. I would suggest trying something different—like partnering with a therapist. Friends and family tend to give well-intentioned advice, and while that can be helpful, it isn’t going to help you access the deeper thoughts and feelings that might be preventing you from healing and moving on.

I imagine the sense of “purgatory” you reference as being less about seeking answers from someone you can’t access and more about the inability to access answers you already possess.

A therapist will listen to you and ask questions and make comments that will allow you to dig deeper. Maybe you will learn that you believed your ex-girlfriend was the one you would spend the rest of your life with and those unmet expectations have left you with insecurities and fears; insecurities about your ability to accurately assess your relationships or fears of being hurt like this again. Maybe you will learn that the relationship was actually quite unhealthy in some ways and that is what has made it so difficult to heal and move on. Maybe it is something else entirely that is holding you back. A therapist can help you unpack and examine with compassionate curiosity whatever it might be.

With the limited information I have, all I can do is make general speculations, but working with a therapist will give you the opportunity to understand why the end of this relationship has been so painful for you. Identifying whatever that is and healing from it may offer the closure you seek and maybe even lead you to a new, healthier, more rewarding relationship.

Best wishes,

Sarah

I can only imagine the range of emotions you are experiencing after a blindside like this. Based on the information you provided, the way your husband handled the situation absolutely seems unfair to you. Walking out with no prior conversation can indicate either a lack of care and respect for your feelings and your relationship or deeper issues of his own. He may be going through something that compelled him to make a major life change with no clear plan of where he was going next. Either way, trust that when he says he is done, he is done.

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He resisted attempts to go to counseling in the past and has let you know that he has no desire to do so now. Take him at his word. It takes two to fight for a marriage—and if he is not willing to even engage, fighting for your marriage will be an exercise in frustration for you and potentially damage what remains of your relationship. Not fighting doesn’t mean you don’t care about your marriage. By not fighting, however, you may be able to begin your grieving process, and subsequent healing process, sooner.

It is natural to go through many stages of grieving at the end of a relationship. Denial, bargaining, anger, and sadness are to be expected. Given your particular circumstances, confusion and the desire for reasonable explanations would be natural as well.

It is natural to go through many stages of grief at the end of a relationship. Denial, bargaining, anger, and sadness are to be expected. Given your particular circumstances, confusion and the desire for reasonable explanations would be natural as well. Unfortunately, it is possible that your husband will not, perhaps even cannot, give you the answers you need to make sense of this bewildering situation.

His departure and refusal to explain or consider working on things has not only hurt you deeply, but also likely left you feeling powerless. One important part of healing will be reclaiming your power. I recommend that you connect with a local counselor who can provide support and perspective as you grapple with the emotions that naturally will arise for you.

Through counseling, you can determine how you want to grieve and move forward. You can get support to handle the anger and confusion you are feeling. You can choose how to handle future conversations and interactions with your husband. You can choose whether staying connected to him is in your best interests or not. You can choose whether or not to remain friends.

Thank you for reaching out. I hope, with support, you find resolution for the understandable pain you feel that allows you to move forward with a clear mind and heart.

Best of luck,
Erika

You know what they say: “A friend in need is a friend indeed.” I guess in this case, your part is the friend part and she’s the “in need” part. You say she calls on you when she needs help, but she’s never around when you could use a hand. It is wonderful to be able to help people, and some folks seem to be natural-born caregivers, but if you’re feeling taken advantage of, perhaps you should say so, directly, to your friend. Initiate a conversation about the meaning of friendship and helping hands, and see what she has to say. Then you could reply, if you like, and share your feelings. This could be a way to resolve an issue that has been festering for you. It might lead to a deepening of the relationship and real understanding of each other.

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On the other hand, if a dialogue doesn’t develop and you don’t believe your feelings are heard and respected, say that, too. Tell her, if you think it’s appropriate, that unless your relationship becomes more balanced, you are thinking about terminating it. It seems apparent to me that you are not getting what you need from the friendship.

Friendship implies balance between two people; it may seesaw sometimes if one person is in a stickier patch than the other, but both partners have to know that they can—must, even—both give and receive.

You write that just thinking about ending the relationship, one-sided though it seems to be, makes you feel guilty and selfish. That’s an important piece of information. What does that mean about how you think about yourself? Must you always be the caretaker? Do you always have to be ready to help your friend out? Do you feel guilty when you discover that you, too, have needs that should be recognized and met? Why would that be? Do your needs feel less important? Do you feel less important or deserving of consideration and understanding? A good relationship means being able to both give and take, a relationship between equal partners.

Friendship implies balance between two people; it may seesaw sometimes if one person is in a stickier patch than the other, but both partners have to know that they can—must, even—both give and receive. Things can’t always go one way. It’s really important for people to know when they’ve had enough and to take care of themselves. After all, if you can’t take care of yourself, you can’t take care of anybody else, either. Before takeoff, the flight attendant advises you, should an emergency arise, to always put your own oxygen mask on first before helping others in need. There’s a reason for that.

Thank you for writing about this important question. Many good-hearted people find themselves with problems like yours, and I hope you arrive at the positive resolution you deserve.

Take care,
Lynn

I am so very sorry that this is how the relationship with your therapist has ended. You mention feeling angry, hurt, confused, and even abandoned. Given the scenario you presented, I can certainly understand why you would feel these things.

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There is a phase of therapy called termination that happens as treatment is winding down. Termination serves as an opportunity to reflect on the work that has been done and the progress, growth, and change that has resulted. It is also a time for therapists and people in therapy to say goodbye to one another and process the end of the therapeutic relationship. The absence of this phase of treatment can absolutely leave you feeling a need for closure—especially because it was your therapist’s decision to end treatment so abruptly, not yours.

Despite your request for a final session, it sounds like you are not going to be able to engage in the termination process with your therapist. Letter writing can be a helpful tool when you have a lot of thoughts and feelings about a person and the person is not available to have a conversation. Perhaps you could write a letter to your former therapist telling her how you feel and asking the questions you are left pondering. You could even write a response to your letter in your former therapist’s voice. You could process this kind of letter-writing exercise with your current therapist in order to get the most out of it. It can be a surprisingly powerful exercise. Your new therapist may have some other helpful ideas, of course.

As far as your questions about ethics and potential recourse, it’s a little less straightforward than it may seem.

As far as your questions about ethics and potential recourse, it’s a little less straightforward than it may seem. According to the American Counseling Association’s Code of Ethics, there is a prohibition against abandonment and neglect: “Counselors do not abandon or neglect clients in counseling. Counselors assist in making appropriate arrangements for the continuation of treatment, when necessary, during interruptions such as vacations, illness, and following termination.” However, there is also a section of the code on impairment that states, “Counselors monitor themselves for signs of impairment from their own physical, mental, or emotional problems and refrain from offering or providing professional services when impaired.” It sounds like your former therapist has just gone through a lot—the death of a parent, returning to her home country, and then retirement. It does seem possible that she might feel too impaired to work.

At this point, it does not seem like you can count on any assistance from your previous therapist in coming to terms with the end of the relationship, but you do have a new therapist who can partner with you to gain the closure you seek. I hope that process brings you peace.

Sincerely,
Sarah

There is no question that inheritance bequests can create significant tension and strife in families. Often, one or more of the surviving relatives feels slighted and unfairly treated. The only person, however, who has the right to decide how to leave their estate is the person creating the will.

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Your mother may have some very clear reasons for allocating her estate the way she has. Of course it doesn’t feel fair to you—but what’s fair isn’t always right, and what’s right isn’t always fair. It may be that your mother feels that her son who stayed close and helps her out (as minimally as it may seem to you) is entitled to more of the estate. It may be that she is concerned about his ability to thrive after she is gone and is trying to make sure he is taken care of. (If this is the case, it may be that she has confidence you’ll be just fine—though I’m sure that would feel like small consolation.) It may be something else completely, but she has her reasons for making the choices she made.

You can allow resentment to poison your relationship with your brother and your mom, or you can let it go.

The choice you are left with, then, is how to respond. You can allow resentment to poison your relationship with your brother and your mom, or you can let it go. When you tried to talk with your mother, did you focus on how these choices made you feel, or did you come from the perspective of right/wrong and fair/unfair?

If you focus on how wrong or unfair her choice seems, you may be met with defensiveness and entrenchment. If you start from a place of accepting that it is her right to make these choices, but that you find her choices hurtful, you may be able to come to a better understanding. She might be able to explain her thinking in a way that makes sense to you, and she might be able to hear and respond to your pain—but not if she has to defend the “rightness” of her choices.

However you choose to approach this, I strongly recommend that you find a way to make peace with your mother before she dies. That might mean seeking personal counseling for yourself to let go of anger and resentment, or perhaps family counseling with your mother and possibly your brother. You have the opportunity to address these issues while she is here to respond. All too often, resentments are left to fester until it is too late to heal the rifts.

Best of luck,
Erika

Your very sad story is touching. You’re worried that you’ve wasted four years of your life and clearly miss the man who was your partner, and you long for the good times you spent together. Nevertheless, your memories of the good are almost buried in your regret. I’m glad you’re seeing a therapist to help yourself grow and develop and learn how to hold onto the good, so you can learn to care for yourself and how to take care of yourself, too, and become a better partner. It’s apparent to me that you have accepted responsibility for your role in the way things ended, and that shows growth.

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Part of human development is learning to accept yourself and your actions, your history, and use it as a springboard to move forward in your life. As your therapist says, forgiving yourself is essential. Once you do that, it’s time to shut the door on it. You cannot return to your past.

Clinging to the past and especially to regrets about your behavior may feel unconsciously like a way to cling to the person who was once your partner, but in fact it’s only a memory you’re attached to.

You seem preoccupied with thoughts about how your partner thinks of you now. You’re worried that the bad times will outweigh the good ones, and the good will be forgotten. This may or not be so for him—we don’t really know that—but what we can be sure about is what your feelings are. You can remember the good and the bad that you both experienced, forgive yourself, forgive your partner, and move on. The best testament to the good times you enjoyed in your relationship is the ability to hold onto the good and go forward with your life. The past has a vote, not a veto. It can vote to show you better paths in the future, but it cannot have veto power over the rest of your life.

After some time of healing and mourning, I hope you will be ready to move on and use all you have learned to forge a new relationship filled with compassion and love for yourself and the person who becomes your next partner, if and when you choose to pursue another relationship.

Clinging to the past and especially to regrets about your behavior may feel unconsciously like a way to cling to the person who was once your partner, but in fact it’s only a memory you’re attached to. The person has gone away, and you deserve something real, solid, and present.

I wish you patience and success as you continue your journey with your therapist.

Take care,
Lynn