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Yesterday when I went to my appointment with my psychiatrist - with whom I also do weekly psychotherapy - his receptionist told me he wasn't in because he'd had a heart attack. They had tried to contact me before my appointment, but couldn't find my number, which doesn't surprise me since I'm all too familiar with the general level of disorganization at his office. (I don't really mind it.) Fortunately, he appears to have come out of the incident pretty well, and the receptionist said he even expected to be back in the office in a few days.
I've had a very difficult time processing this news. And my whole experience of this is complicated by the fact that I've come to have very strong feelings of affection for my therapist.
A little backstory: I’m a more or less happily married woman in my mid-30s – no kids - and my psychiatrist is a man roughly twice my age. I've been seeing him for almost exactly a year now after going to him in severe crisis, having been unable to leave my house for the better part of a year due to contamination fears. He put me back together very quickly: I was almost fully back to normal in 4-6 weeks and now, after a year of meds and therapy, have been feeling better than I have in over a decade. For the first time, I felt I’d found someone to help me put my life back on track in general – not just with my OCD issues – and had great hopes that this could be accomplished over the next year or two.
I was completely unprepared to hear about my doctor’s heart attack. A lot of my core fears have been around death – my own and those close to me – but I’d never imagined losing my therapist. The idea that he might die is truly very painful to me in itself and also brings to the fore longstanding anxieties I’ve had about my own father’s heart condition. Even the idea of my therapist’s retirement – a much more likely prospect – leaves me feeling really bereft, even hopeless.
And everything is complicated by the intense feelings I seem to have developed for him. While I’m immensely grateful to him for helping me as much as he has, these feelings definitely go beyond gratitude. I do recognize in them a kind of transference, though I don't really buy the Freudian view that I’m “transferring” onto my therapist feelings I held towards figures from my early childhood. Still, I can see how opening myself up deeply to someone who is unfailingly kind and supportive and interested solely in my welfare – and moreover someone who seems very much to “get” me - can lead to some powerful feelings. Even recognizing this, I’m still somewhat embarrassed by my reactions to him, and have never brought it up with him in therapy; nor do I feel comfortable talking about this with my husband, with whom I’m generally pretty open.
Part of what is bothering me is not knowing what I should do right now. I would very much like to send my therapist some token of sympathy, but keep second-guessing myself about whether this is a good idea. If this had been a friend, a teacher or even my regular physician, I would have sent flowers or a card, but I can’t help feeling that I’m breaking some important boundary with a therapist, especially one that I’m trying hard not to break any boundaries with. I could leave a message on his phone (office phone, which is the only number I have), though I’ve never left him a message before. I could also send him an email, but feel this might be too intrusive as well, since he doesn’t generally communicate by email and since I’ve never emailed him before. What, if anything, would you do in my situation? My next appointment with him is about two weeks away, and I know I would also feel awkward if I made no attempt to reach out to him before then.
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