On Being A Therapist - Part 3

"How do you do this everyday?," my client asked. "Why would you even want to do this?," he continued, "I don't think I could do this. I mean, how do you sit and listen to other people's problems all day? What about your problems? Or do you all not have problems since you are the 'professionals'?" "We're human," I replied. "Yeah, but you're also the 'doctor' - the one with the knowledge to fix 'people problems'." I almost laughed. Momentarily, it reminded me of my mother saying, "You're a mental health professional. You should be able to fix this," referring to my daughter's wild teenage misbehavior. Ha! If my client (and my mother) only knew! 

I wonder if he would feel differently if he knew that my high school dropout, teenage daughter, was flushing her life down the toilet by making poor choices on a daily basis. I wonder if he would feel differently if he knew that my boyfriend's grief, over the death of his mother, was so overwhelming that, not only could I not handle it or help him, but, I actually made things worse [unintentionally, of course] by getting lost in my own personal fears and needs and not being able to hear, or do, what he needed of me. I wonder if he would feel differently if he knew I had been crying myself to sleep every night this week because that same [long-term] boyfriend ended our relationship just a few days ago - and I was barely holding back the tears even as we were in my office having this conversation. I wonder if he would feel differently if he knew that, because I'm nursing a broken heart, my internal joy was significantly dampened; therefore, my love tank was only being filled, right now, by God's grace and my beautiful, loving, little granddaughter. I wonder if he would feel differently if he knew that, when I am "running on fumes," I have to dig deep into the bowels of my soul just to show up and, more importantly, be 100% present for each client that day because neither their problems nor their pain can be put on hold while I deal with my own.

"That's why every therapist should have a therapist," I told him, "because we are human, we do have problems, we do hurt, and we need help, sometimes, too." "The only difference is, we are trained to compartmentalize our own 'stuff' until we can process it appropriately," I added. So, while our lives continue, however they continue, we have chosen a career in which we still have to be present for others. Now, there are times when we reach our breaking point too, and either have to limit the clients we see or stop seeing clients temporarily. For example, couples work was very hard for me when I was going through a very painful divorce because of [his] infidelity; so, I stopped accepting new couples, for a few months, until I was able to process my own feelings of hurt, anger, grief, and shame. And I will probably limit the amount of grief work that I do, over the next couple of months, while I process my feelings of failure, guilt, shame, and hurt related to my response, or lack thereof, to my boyfriend's grief and the ultimate loss of the relationship (for which I feel responsible). I also have to be aware that, while I'm not going to stop seeing couples, I may be more sensitive to couples who are broken or breaking. 

Ethically, I must stay conscious to, and accountable for, my personal feelings so they do not cloud my objectivity. So, I will make sure to do a lot more case consultations with my two partners so they can give me their perspective on how I'm doing as well. I will be seeing my therapist tomorrow and will increase my visits with her from bi-weekly to weekly until I can pick up the pieces of my own broken heart. And last, but certainly not least, I will be praying incessantly:

(1) that God will give me the strength to get out of my bed, in spite of my sadness, and show up at my office, 

(2) that God will give me the necessary tools to stay open and present for my clients, 

(3) that God will help me to hear and think clearly as I help my clients through their process,

(4) that God's will be done in their lives as well as my own, and 

(5) that God will heal all the brokenness - mine, my clients', my boyfriend's, and my boyfriend's sons - and replace it with a renewed sense of peace, joy, hope, and love.

That's "how I do this every day." As to the "why": I do this because I know the deepest, darkest sense of brokenness - when not just your heart is broken but your body, mind, and spirit - your entire existence is like a shattered window pane that simply hasn't yet fallen out of the frame. I know hurt so deep that it feels like the only viable option for relief is death. I know despair that is so profound that you feel like you are drowning. I know how it feels when the aching in your soul finally goes numb and you can barely even cry anymore. Most importantly, though, I know that there is joy, peace, and sunlight when you get to the other side of, and finally exit, that Hell. And my clients will NEVER have to walk through Hell alone as long as I'm breathing. To me, that's being a therapist.