My therapist, L, is no longer with the practice I’ve been seeing for the last couple of years. It took a year to get to her—first, they assigned me to M, who was a total pain in the ass and didn’t listen. Not that I was inclined to talk to her, anyway. And she didn’t return phone calls.
So I finally got beyond the “getting to know you” stage with L, and she understands our family and some history and such, so she can put things in context. And I think they fired her! They weren’t even going to tell me she wouldn’t be there for my appointment this evening. I called to ask her something and her number had been disconnected, which prompted me to talk to the office idiots.
I. Am. Not. HAPPY! It’s a major PITA to break in a new therapist. I mean, it is for anybody, but when you have a bunch of interlocking issues and heavy history crap, then you add in chronic illness/disability, and just for fun mix in that whole bi/pagan/poly thing, believe me, it’s worse. And some therapists aren’t up to it. In fact, the one I saw a couple of times before seeing someone at this practice told me and Sam at the second session that she was in over her head and needed to refer me elsewhere.
Oh—the new person doesn’t do evening appointments, either. This means that the only way I can be sure of getting there is to take a taxi, as I have not had good experiences with using MARTA for anything time-sensitive. It’s expensive, but not as difficult as having Sam take time off from work. L coordinated my appointments with Katie’s appointments with another therapist in the same practice, which was nice. Who knows if this one will be as helpful?