Something came up today which meant I may have to cancel Monday’s session with Therapist. Shouldn’t have been a big deal, she came back straight away and offered an alternative time which was a big bonus – usually it’s impossible to reschedule. But then it got messy, because I wasn’t sure whether or not I actually needed to cancel, and she wanted to know whether or not she could let my Monday slot go to someone else. I get this. It’s logistics, I’m not her only client, she’s busy, and she’s good at her job, so no doubt has people waiting for a slot.
But of course, of course, the emotional side of me decided to get thick about this. Why couldn’t she hold the two times for me until I knew for sure one way or the other? Am I not important enough? Does she not care? Blah blah blah etc etc etc shite. It went on from there – I know. I’ll cancel altogether. I don’t need her. There’s no crisis, I don’t deserve her time. Her other clients are all far more important. She’d rather not work with me anymore. Christ, I’m boring myself with this it’s all so painfully, predictably familiar, fair play if you’re still reading at this point. And yet still, this is where my thoughts automatically go. It frustrates the hell out of me! I was off kilter for a good couple of hours afterwards, all because she actually tried to accommodate me but also wanted me to be clear about what I needed.
I caught it. That’s good, it’s progress. But I still can’t quite get myself to believe that this is just a simple matter of logistics, and not some veiled way of trying to get shut of me. Bugger.