cross-posted to the grief and loss subforum.

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Here's my story

In January 2019, after burning out and going on short term disability, I started seeing a therapist for the first time. Gradually she helped me feel better and turn myself around. She changed my life. We started going into my childhood cPTSD and depression and for the first time in my life I felt really, truly seen. She truly cared about what I've been struggling with my whole life and truly wanted to help. I felt a hole in me that has been there most of my life start to be filled in the most hopeful, fulfilling way.

COVID hit and we went online. I was inconsolable. There's not much to say about this part except that I spent 50 minutes in session with her, almost every week for 2.5 years, crying about how much I wanted to go back to in-person sessions. She held steady through all of it. Kept showing up and being there for me no matter what.

Meanwhile, in July 2020 I stumbled upon a GoFundMe page her and her partner posted about being ready to adopt a baby.

I was crushed. There are no words to convey how bad this felt. I was going to lose my favorite person in the whole world, at least for some length of time.

We talked about it. She told me that the timeline of when it would happen was completely unknown. So we were doing virtual sessions, which I hated, and now I had the knowledge hanging over my head that she could go on leave at any time. I kept begging the universe to not take her from me, at least not before we resumed in-person sessions.

October 2022, we finally resumed in-person sessions. The relief was immense. The first week back I was just overwhelmed. The second week back. I told her I felt a greater sense of well-being than I had in a long time. The third week back, we finally made a plan for how I'd like things to go when she finally goes on leave, so that I could try to put that aside and continue with our work.

The fourth week back, she broke the news. We had three more sessions before she was going on leave for a year.

The fifth and sixth weeks were a blur.

The seventh week was a bit of a blur too, but I remember some things. I remember sitting down, looking her in the eyes and saying "f@#$ you. f#$@ you! How could you do this to me! You were supposed to always be there for me." and she responded "oh and I have been. I'm sorry I can't be there for you all the time forever." I remember setting up a cluster of stones that were supposed to convey something like love and acceptance. I remember playing "Because you loved me" by Celine Dion and she said "while I was listening, I tried to pour my energy into the stones." I remember she gave me a pink string that was supposed to represent the spiritual connection between us. I remember leaving the room, not knowing if I would ever see her again, and breaking down sobbing.

I remember when I got in the car with my partner, I got an email from her, with a voice recording as I requested. I thought it was going to be a passage from a book we both liked. Instead she had recorded herself reading the very special children's picture book I had given to her as a gift two weeks before. Completely unexpected but so incredibly moving.

The year passed incredibly slowly and incredibly painfully. I tried my hardest to keep myself strong. I kept sending my hopes into the universe that she would come back to me. I had many moments of doubt and pain.

I wore the pink string around my neck regularly. I listened to the voice recording every night, for quite a while, until it was too painful to keep doing that, but I kept listening to it now and then.

I learned to knit and started knitting a big rainbow blanket, to give to her when she returned. I poured all my love into the blanket and used it to ground myself, and to remind myself that time was indeed passing.

I finally finished the blanket in the middle of November. I was filled with hope but also fear. I might see her again soon. I might never see her again. In my mind, there were two possibilities: she might return to work and we would meet again. Or she might not ever return to work as a therapist.

She sideswiped me with the third possibility I never saw coming.

On November 28th, 2023, she sent me an email, telling me that for "personal and professional reasons," she was "unable to continue our therapeutic work together." I replied asking for more explanation and asking if we could have one last session or even a phone call. She refused the last session and her only explanation was "my transition to becoming a parent required much more emotional energy than I anticipated, and our work demanded significant emotional energy which I can't guarantee I could provide you."

Thank everything in the universe that I had already been working with two lovely therapists I can rely on. I'm leaning heavily on both of them.

I'm utterly shattered by this loss and rejection. She didn't even let me say goodbye. It feels like I'm never going to be happy again.

And that's my story.