How did you feel, after? Especially that first week of not returning to therapy?

I feel jaded, confused, sad, upset, guilty, and regretful. After 15 years of not finding someone who suited me, I knew in that first meeting w/her that she was gonna be my therapist. Just two weeks ago, she and I were recalling the details about how I came to be her client and she remembered exactly where she was at when I had called her and said, "Just last week I was thinking how lucky I was that you didn't call anyone else and waited for me to come back from vacation and how no one else scooped you up."

Now, two weeks later...this.

We were both angry and upset in our final session and even though I don't think she had the skills suited to help me on this next leg of my journey, I still very much care. Where do the feelings go when you have a fight and you stop talking? Do they vanish?

And it's odd, the therapist/client relationship. So fragile and delicate and completely one-sided, even though it didn't feel like it when I was there. I tried to ask about her, too.

She goes off to a boyfriend and her daughter and resumes her life. I'm just work to her, although I'm sure she does care in some fashion. This loss is hard for me to understand and I feel like it's starting to hit me and I don't know how I'll feel when Friday rolls around (therapy day). I'm depressed. The person who has listened to me go through all of this is no more. She may even send me a bill, demanding payment (she waits for me to get reimbursed by my insurance). So odd. This person I could talk to, open up to, share things with...yet I know nothing of her real life. She is enjoying the holiday with her fam- as she should- and here I am, devastated and reeling from the loss and just beginning to mourn someone who I'm an afterthought to.

I'm very jaded with the therapy process right now. I'm hurt and don't even want to wade back into the waters in order to find someone new. I knew that when I was going through the worst portion of my life, if I could make it to therapy and talk to her, that it would be okay. And all of the rapport and trust I had felt we built up ended in animated talking, not listening to the other, and after I walked out, hearing her open her completely closed door and slamming it shut for emphasis. She was supposed to provide secure attachment for me in a healthy and safe environment. She promised she could do this and that her attachment style was solid. Now, all I can hear is her last words to me that were filled with dry sarcasm and the slamming of a door. And that was our end.

I guess I'm just heartbroken.