I'd like to try to explain to those people who don't understand this fear of T's absence. If you had asked me a couple of years ago if I could have feelings like this I would not even have understood the question. It would have made no sense to me. And, of course, without 'experience', such things cannot be understood - at least not in their fullest. Still, I will attempt to share my story so that those of you who wonder how I can feel so nervous that a person I see only 50 minutes a week will be gone for 2 weeks.

See, it's like this. Let's say you have a seed or a kernel and it has been dormant for many years, you may think there is no life within. But by tender care and watering, the seed comes alive and begins to grow. But that growth does come with a cost. The exterior shell must be discarded so that the softness and vulnerability of the inside can take root and flourish.

So, I guess I'm like the dormant seed. I guess I never opened up my shell and never gave myself the opportunity to dive deep. Heck, I didn't even know there was a deep.

Raging issues forced me into therapy and I am so grateful I took that step. Sometimes I feel a kinda divine intervention or something like that. I could have worked very hard to keep the kernel from bursting open but it probably would have resulted in becoming extremely toxic and destructive - all from within.

So, beginning therapy I thought I had just one, more or less, simple problem. How did I know that that problem was just the tip of the iceberg? How did I know that by being in therapy all kinds of buried and hidden and suppressed emotions would show their face?

With growing trust in a therapist and with stronger ability to 'expose' and divulge myself, more and more tough and painful emotional hurts come to the surface and are seen and grappled with.

Only my therapist knows about them. And myself. Only the therapist is there for me in my most vulnerable moments. Only the therapist stands by me no matter what.

The goal is, I think, somewhat of an emotional independence. But it doesn't happen over night. My T calls my situation a story of developmental delays in regards to emotional maturity. I was taught to be strong and stoic and never to display feelings. So, I never knew it was ok and healthy to have feelings, let alone learn how to manage them.

In the book, "A General Theory of Love", the authors make the case for limbic resonance. Our emotional brains feel attunement with the therapist. And with this attunement comes a feeling of being heard and being understood. It is, for some of us, being KNOWN. Those of you who have studied attachment patterns and how attachment to therapist can be part of the healing process will know what I'm talking about. If a young child did not experience this, then as an adult, he may need it to be able to become a whole person unto himself by having healthy attachment to their therapist. And by that, learning independence.

Once limbic resonance is felt, limbic regulation is the next step. Quoting from the above book, " If patient and therapist are to proceed together down a curative path, they must allow limic regulation and its companion moon, dependence(my emphasis), to make their revolutionary magic."

Another quote from the book reads, "Human physiology finds a hub not only in light, but also in the harmonizing activity of nearby limbic brains. Our neural architecture places relationships at the crux of our lives, where, blazing and warm, they have the power to stabilize.

Trust in the therapist is a prerequisite. "But a patient has to stomach the proposition that his emotional convictions are fiction, and someone else's might be better. Not everyone can do it. A therapist should have a sign in their office, like the minimum height for roller coasters, ' YOU MUST BE AT LEAST THIS TRUSTING TO RIDE THIS RIDE."

So, trust builds up while at the same time emotions released are roiling, threatening to destroy all in its path. These emotions initially are helped managed by the therapist's skill in offering valuable support and understanding. Knowing the therapist is available allows a sense of safety - that no matter what is experienced internally, help is close by.

So, when the therapist is absent and a person is still in the stage of learning about and experiencing heightened emotions, there is a fear - at least for me.

The final stage (limbic resonance and limbic regulation being the first two) is limbic revision. " Therapy's transmutation consists not in elevating proper Reason over purblind Passion, but in replacing silent, unworkable intuitions with functional ones." I feel myself entering this stage.

But as my therapist tells me the process is not linear. Many times I have felt that I am finished with therapy and then huge waves of unknown emotions pound me. They come from nowhere (it seems) and proves that I still have work to do.

I believe that it's probably a good thing that therapists are not always available. It gives those of us who depend on them the opportunity to try to stand on our own legs, to access those stabilizing muscles and use them to grow in our own sense of security and to experience taking care of ourselves.

It's all a learning process and I'm grateful that I am no longer a dormant seed and that my future holds a complete flowering of myself. I have trust and I have faith.