[justbreathe1994]

I’m don’t anticipate sending this to ex T, but I wrote this letter to ex T after my current DBT T gave me a template for a Letter of Loss/Greif. I just wanted a place to share it because I’m really feeling a lot of greif at the moment. Sorry it’s long.

In losing you, I lost the deepest connection I have ever known in my 24 years of living. In losing you, I lost my best friend, mother, and partner. In losing you as my therapist, I lost these relationships too because you were more than a therapist to me. And I’ve always known, deep down, that truth would crush me in the end.
When I think of you, I remember your face because I still have the polaroid picture of us, which I probably look at every day. Unfortunately, my mind has trouble recalling specific memories of us because I’ve boxed those up and stored them away. I’d like to think I’ll be able to handle the memories someday, but right now, it is too difficult to remember what I’ve lost.

What you meant to me is everything.

Selfishly, what I miss about you, is us, because I never really knew you outside the context of our relationship. I miss the way our eyes would meet and we’d sit in silence, fully aware of each others’ presence. I miss the way my heart would flutter when this happened, as if the experiences of falling in love and being fully seen were intricately woven together. I miss how we’d argue, you’d get angry, and send me out of your office. I miss how you’d always come out to find me and we’d chalk our rupture up to another hurdle that made us closer. What I miss about you, is the emotion. You made me feel and I think I made you feel too.

I appreciate you for teaching me what connection feels like. As painful as the ending was, I appreciate you for sticking by me as long as you have and showing me the depths of my feelings. We dove together, and until I met you, I never realized how deep my feelings ran. I appreciate you for staying as long as you did and for giving me a glimpse of what it means to deeply feel.

The pleasant times are difficult for me to recall, because as I said, I’ve stored those memories away in the deepest crevices of my mind. Someday, I hope I’ll allow myself to remember and look back on our relationship with a sense of appreciation and peace.

I respect you for your authenticity in each and every moment. I respect you for allowing me to become close, only to push me away. I respect you for being fully present, in whatever form that may be, and giving me the opportunity to be fully present too.

I am angry at you for letting me hold on as long as I did - for holding onto the flirtatious eyes, the touch, and for stepping into my personal space such as my dorm room. I’m angry at you for not telling me what I was signing up for when I walked into your office for the first time, even though you had a good inclination I’d grow attached. I’m angry you praised my attachment, responding saying you loved me and you were honored I’d wished you were my Mom. When I saw that saying I loved you made you more affectionate, I let myself feel the deepest love I have ever felt.

I feel shame for driving by your house and for rationalizing my actions as a simple desire for closeness. I feel shame for calling you for months after you set your boundary, again rationalizing my refusal to accept as justified because I was vulnerable and heartbroken. I feel shame for being weak, for being dependent, for allowing your feelings for me to dictate whether I wanted to live or die. I feel shame for letting myself completely fall in love with you, and then becoming addicted to the feeling of love itself.

I felt fear when I saw you print the list of referrals before our final session, knowing, but not believing, that was the end. I felt fear leading up to our final session. My mom took me to see The Incredibles 3 as a distraction, but all I could do was walk up and down the aisles of the empty movie theatre, replaying in my head all the moments I felt close to you and cussing at myself for &@$%ing it up.

I feel guilty for crossing the boundary you couldn’t have crossed.

I regret taking for granted the fragility of relationships, even ours. I regret thinking we could get through anything, and asking you for another chance, even after you very clearly said “No.” Again, I regret calling you after you terminated, unwilling to let go of what you already said was over..

I’d like to (because I’m still in the process of) forgive you for upholding a boundary, no matter how much pain it brings me. I’d like to forgive you for reassuring me despite reassurances not being bullet proof.

I’d like to (because I’m still in the process of) forgive myself for growing attached to you. I’d like to forgive myself for falling in love, as painful as it was for me, in the end. And the hardest of all, I’d like to forgive myself for crossing your boundary, even though forgiveness does not make my action right.

The hardest thing about letting go is letting go of a future without you in it.

Through losing you, I have found freedom. While I feel scared I will never see you again, I am free from the daily anxiety of wondering if this will be the day you leave. You have already left, but I still hope you will come back someday.

I will always cherish my stuffed Lion you hugged and the polaroid we took. They are incredibly painful to look at right now as they are reminders of moments I felt so very connected to you, which I suppose are also moments worth cherishing.

What I will do differently in my life is respect others’ boundaries and perhaps uphold some of my own. I will remember that a healthy relationship takes two people, each with solid boundaries. Contrastingly, an unhealthy relationship is enmeshed and is not one to be desired. I will get myself healthy before entering into a relationship that has the possibility of becoming enmeshed.

I learned that I am capable of deep connection, something I didn’t know was possible until meeting you. I learned that relationships have risks, and despite how painful ours was, I think you were a risk worth taking.

Thank you. I’m sorry.

[SlumberKitty]

I think that's a beautiful letter JustBreathe1994.

[LonesomeTonight]

I agree that it's really beautiful. Hugs...

Beautiful, heart-felt letter.

[justbreathe1994]

Thanks guys

[RaineD]

That was beautiful. It brought tears to my eyes. <3

[Echos Myron redux]

It's a great letter. I wrote something similar to T1 and never sent it. It was a helpful process and I'm glad I did It (I'm also glad I didn't send it). Posting it here helped too.

You have articulated yourself so well, I hope it helps you with your grieving process.

[Artificial Rose]

A painful yet beautifully written letter

[justbreathe1994]

Thanks everyone, I hope one day, when I’m all better, I will be able to make amends. However, I’m not sure if she will want that.

[satsuma]

Very moving and eloquent letter

[justbreathe1994]

Originally Posted by Echos Myron redux

It's a great letter. I wrote something similar to T1 and never sent it. It was a helpful process and I'm glad I did It (I'm also glad I didn't send it). Posting it here helped too.

You have articulated yourself so well, I hope it helps you with your grieving process.

I’m glad you found writing a letter helpful Echos. Is your letter still on PC? If so, I’d love to read it. Also, I’m curious why it was helpful to not send? I’m trying to respect my T’s boundary right now, after a lot of talks with my DBT therapist about boundaries. I admit that I had a very hard time accepting her decision at first. With that said, someday I’d like to make amends and be able to say goodbye when I’m not still emotional and very attached.