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There’s this wound that continues to bleed as I sit in class, try to sleep, and sit in someone else’s office.
I went to therapy before to process old wounds. Now I go to process the one from you.
It’s been a year, and I’m still bleeding. I’m not sure if l’ll ever heal.
It doesn’t seem to matter to you, though. I was just another client to collect money from so you can travel the world.
I trusted you to be delicate with me. You knew my story, and yet you dropped me as if I’m fruit that can’t be bruised. I hit the floor and rolled under the table to hide the heart you broke.
You can’t turn to page 76 in your DSM and find me. I don’t fit a box, and there’s no one-size-fits-all remedy for trauma. Certainly, dropping people without any care for their mental well-being is not one of them.
I’ve been to enough therapists now this year to realize what I experienced was inappropriate and unethical. However, I still care too much about you to ever say anything.
So I go to therapy with someone new and work each week on healing from the trauma you caused.
Thank you for your painful life lesson. I’ll remember it as I become a clinician alongside you and hold space needed for my clients to heal. I’ll do this because it’s my job and because I care about every human that walks through my door.
You can drop us a few times and maybe develop our resilience. Drop us too many times, though, and there will be no fruit left.
You have a powerful position as a doctor.
Stay off the throne and meet people where they are.