I am not going to share with you the letter I wrote to my T Monday night following our session. It is a goodbye letter. I will have to say goodbye to the best T I have ever had because I am not committed to recovery and I am refusing treatment for my eating disorder, anorexia nervosa. She is the last therapist I will ever have.
I told her there is no T in the universe just like her (I didn’t word it that way). If another T were to follow, surely, that one would be a sore disappointment. I will, however, have support. I have services from the Department of Mental Health in place, so they will be following me. I meet with my worker once a week, on Saturdays.
My psychiatrist, Dr. P, will also “fire” me. I am not meeting her criteria for treatment. She will not treat someone who refuses all help. Leaving her is a very difficult decision I have made. She is an excellent shrink who has seen me through some very hard times. I have been seeing her for–believe it or not–10 years.
I have printed out this letter. I saved the document in my computer files. I e-mailed it to myself as well. I plan to read it to my T and give it to her for her records. We meet tomorrow.
I am usually scared to read her things I wrote. I fear that she will react by rejecting me, “firing” me, or hospitalizing me. So far, she has done none of these things based on any document I have read to her. But I am committed to reading her the entire document I wrote. I am convinced that she will not do any of these things based on what I wrote in the letter.
Okay, okay, here is one paragraph I am willing to share:
“I do like having someone with me in my aloneness. I know that makes no sense or sounds like an oxymoron, but when you consider that I am in a state of starvation, I am truly alone, untouchable, numb, and my mind is curled up into itself. So I like coming in to see you. Especially lately. I can sit on your couch and maybe uncurl a little.”
The letter is one page long, single-spaced.