Today was my last appointment with my therapist, Megan. Last week I had my last visit with my nurse practitioner, Sarah. There’s been a lot of blubbing (as the BBC might say), and not all on my side of the couch.
I thought I would be a mess. These two women saved my life many times over. They taught me how to be bipolar and still function in the world. When they set up their clinic almost three years ago, they created a sanctuary for me where I was always welcome to hang out with my art supplies. They are the most professional care providers I’ve ever had. And I know, without a doubt, that they love me.
I know, too, that their consistency is the reason I can leave them. I take everything they’ve taught me, their humor, and their open-heartedness with me. I will be fine, whoever I find in Muskogee to be my therapist. It will be a new relationship enriched by the healthy, positive ones I had with Megan and Sarah.
Today, the three of us ate lunch in Sarah’s office, laughing and leaking tears in equal measure. I know this sounds horrid, but their distress lifted me up. I’ve been struggling with all the uncertainty of this move—not knowing when it will happen, making lists I can’t act on. Today’s loving closure gave me a much-needed sense of a job well done. I drove home feeling lighter than I had in weeks.
In her card to me, Megan wrote in part:
I am a better person and a better provider because of the things I have learned in our work together. You are super fucking awesome, and I will miss you tremendously.
“In a world of ordinary mortals, you are a wonder woman.” —Queen Hippolyta (Wonder Woman’s mom). I will miss you dearly.
I am so grateful to have had them on My Adventure.