"What kind of therapist am I?"
This is what ran through my mind.
I sat across the room from them. I saw their eyes as tears started to well up as they told me their story, how their pain crippled them, and how they could no longer do the things they needed. I saw the fear and regret and guilt flash across their face.
But I restrained myself, (like a good professional, right?) I allowed little emotion to take me. My voice even, never wavering. And I continued to guide them on to the next point of conversation. Brushing off their tears, because time was short.
I didn’t even give them a tissue.
And I stupidly and regrettably neglected what it means to be human. To connect and be PRESENT with another person at their most difficult time.
How did it come to this? When a person who came to me in their most vulnerable state, bares all to me, and then I respond with lack?
Is this not tragic?
The healthcare system, the marketing and sales systems, the corporate systems, they all work well with getting people in. But they fail at helping you slow down to be present with another human being.
We have become calloused to the tears and pain and hearts of people in need. We see so many that need help that we have forgotten to actually see them, to actually hear them and their cry for help.
This must change. And it starts with learning to be present with someone in the moment.
When we finally have the time set, how can we connect with others more? How do we be comfortable with that space?
Allowing ourselves to cry, to stop and just tell the other, if nothing else, “I’m sorry.”
What can we do to get there?
Having a candid conversation on what is not working out in the therapy is better than ghosting your therapist.