Today I saw a new therapist, "Angela". My last therapist, "Mia" moved to California a month and a half ago, and wasn't feeling the whole "long-distance" thing, so I guess we're both seeing other people. She was the best therapist I've ever had; I've had a lot of therapists. Angela kept bringing up Mia, which was painful. It's like, I loved and lost and would like to forget.
Angela mentioned that Mia said I was one of her favorite clients, which was something I had been trying to get her to admit for years but because of "professionalism" or whatever, she never would.
Angela asked me what I liked about Mia. It's always awkward telling your new therapist why you liked your old therapist--am I right, ladies? So I'm just going to write her a letter in this blog post and then email her a link so that she can read this to get her through her dreary California days without me. Also, if she wants to use this as a pseudo-letter of recommendation she can, but I guess she can't prove that I'm talking about her.
Dear You ("Mia"),
The first time we met, you said my name too many times. It made me feel uncomfortable. I'm generally very picky when it comes to therapists, so I would've ended our meetings if you kept ending every question with my name. But I told my mom and she can't keep a secret and told you, so you got better. And I'm glad you did, because where would I be if you kept saying my name?
You talked me through my first almost kiss, and my first actual kiss (to the readers: she wasn't actually there. But I saw her after and we chatted about it). You've gotten me through some of my darkest moments and some of my brightest.
Some days you let me just stare into space, cry, or half-sleep, without saying much. Which was what I needed. You watched my stand-up clips, listened to my new jokes, and read text messages I had been overanalyzing for days. You never tried to force therapy down my throat. I liked you so much because I didn't feel like I was even in therapy. And for the first time in 10 years I was looking forward to talking about my feelings with someone.
You typically don't Skype your patients, but when I was back in college I missed you so much that you made an exception.
When you told me you were moving to California because your boyfriend got a new job, I said, "I heard he's cheating on you" because at this point, what did I have to lose? Then I started considering what job options I had in California, because you're that good of a therapist.
Please watch Chris Gethard's HBO special Career Suicide. Our relationship reminds me of his relationship with his therapist, although you're much more professional.
I think I've grown a lot since the first time I saw you. I wouldn't let the therapist before you swear because it made me feel uncomfortable. Over the last year, not only have you sworn in our sessions, but I have too!
Angela has a lot to live up to. She admits she can never be a Mia, but like, who can?
Anyway, I hope California is beautiful, and please don't forget about me, because if I hear of some California stand-up comic who shares a special bond with her therapist, I'll know she's talking about you, and I'll be pissed.
I'm (Sometimes) OK, Cupid
Wow, I hope she doesn't find this post totally out of line. But if she does, I guess I'll never see her again.