You don't really know how good you have it until you loose it.
Her office was right next to the front desk, and she came out to greet me. She introduced herself as Cecilia, and asked what she could do for me. We went into her office and talked. I really have no memory of what we chatted about. You see, this was two years after the actual assault, and things had finally gotten to the point where I couldn't handle it on my own anymore. (I had told a few friends early on, but my concerns were brushed aside.) From what I remember, we set up a time for a formal intake appointment, and I left feeling a little bit better. (Well, at least out of crisis.)
As time progressed, I was able to really open up to Cecilia and begin the long healing process. The most difficult part of our time together was the exercise in which she made me write out the details of the night of my assault, and then read it to her. Now when I say details, I mean every little bit of sensory information that I could remember. I believe it took me about 2 weeks to write, and I wasn't without a breakdown or two. During the process, Cecilia said that I could always just come in and work on it in a back room of the Center, so I could feel like I was in a safe place.
I took her up on that one evening, and I was having a particularly triggering time, so I went out to the receptionist to see if she could get Cecilia for me. I curled up in a lump on the floor, and she told me that Cecilia was still with a client. I made my way back to the room, and sat on the floor with my head between my legs, hyperventilating in a full-on flashback. I didn't even notice when Cecilia came in and sat on the floor next to me until I heard her telling me to take slow, deep breaths. Eventually, I calmed down enough to talk. I was supposed to go to a fundraiser that night, but it was at a pub over by UW and my ride fell through. Cecilia said that she lived close to there, and would drive me if I wanted her to. I thanked her, and ran back to my apartment to grab my purse and then ran back to her office. I got into her cute little blue speedster and she drove me to the pub. I thanked her profusely, and went inside.
A simple ride. It was just a small gesture; one instance of going above and beyond her duties to help me out.
After many complications with insurance and finances, I was unable to continue seeing Cecilia. It was a bittersweet parting: I was sad to leave the comfort of our weekly chats, but I felt like we had made a lot of progress and I was proud of what I had accomplished with her. She said that I could call her if I ever needed anything, and I took her up on that a time or two.
One day, I ran across her profile on Facebook and requested to be her friend. She accepted, and our relationship changed and we became friends. I grabbed coffee with her before she moved to Hawaii in January, where she told me that she was pregnant! We kept in touch after she moved, and she is now a proud first-time mom.
Kai Alexander Ortiz Daniel was born on June 19, 2010 at 3:21pm. He was 6 pounds, 11 ounces, and 22 inches long. Welcome, Kai!
My relationship with Cecilia was so healing and life-giving and exactly what I needed.
I saw a variety of other people after I stopped working with Cecilia, and it became quite apparent that not everyone was like her.
**Now, I must say that the following people were in no way unqualified or "bad" providers, they just did not "fit" with what I needed.*
Through a search of covered providers by my insurance, I found Dr. Carson. (That should have given me a clear indicator from the beginning, that I called her "Dr. Carson," instead of Christen.) She was much more reserved than Cecilia, and didn't really seem to know how to...get to the core of what I was feeling, I guess. It's hard to describe. I kept seeing her (for far too long, retrospectively), and somehow she came to the conclusion that I had ADHD. (I'm just high-energy!) She wanted me to see a psychiatrist so that I could be put on medication for it, and that's when I stopped seeing her.
I think it was the end of the 2008-2009 academic year when I started seeing seeing Jay at Seattle University's Counseling and Psychological Services, or CAPS. He was the first male therapist that I ever had, but I felt comfortable talking to him. (It helped that Jay and his partner lived happily together with their kids and dogs!) I saw him for the remainder of the year, and then started up again the beginning of the 2009-2010 academic year. Jay was a really great therapist, and his approach was exactly what I was looking for, as I was trying to control my anxiety through non-pharmaceutical means. We worked on mindfulness and meditation, and I tried really, really hard. I wanted to believe so badly that mindfulness and meditation would be all that I needed, but it just wasn't working out. Again, Jay was no Cecilia. I told him that although he was great, I usually "clicked" better with women, and asked if Kim had any room in her schedule. He talked to her and she agreed to transfer my care to her schedule.
Just when I thought I would never find anyone as amazing as Cecilia, along came Kim...
Kim and I started seeing each other in February. She had a really great energy, and we clicked right away. Before I knew it, I was telling her things that I had never told anyone before. It was as if every time I sat down in her office, whatever was in my head came out of my mouth. (Quite a radical concept, actually.) I was able to work on some issues that I never had before, and we really made a lot of progress. I saw her until the end of this academic year, and even had a few sessions into the beginning of summer. Because of technicalities and policies, she had to discontinue my care. I was (and kind of still am) devastated. Just when everything in my life is changing (graduation, roommates leaving, etc.), this was my constant. My comfort. My sanity-saver. I knew, cognitively, that she had no other choice. But for once, I didn't want to think logically. I always just accept things because I know that's the rules, the way they have to be. But this time, I wanted to let my emotions react instead.
So I was mad. Mad that Kim would just cut me off, right when I needed her the most.
I was sad. Sad because my life turned into a giant question mark, with no stability at all.
But mostly I was mad. Being mad is so much easier to feel than sad or depressed.
No Cecilia.
Well, in the time that I've been writing this (on and off for 3ish hours), I've turned around 180 degrees. I started out all sad and mad and frustrated and now...I'm dragging my feet and hanging my head, realizing that the person I'm the most disappointed with is myself.
Something that I've been talking about lately (with Kim and others) is my relationships with older (than me) women. I look to these women as mentors and role models, and they make me feel loved. I think that I'm feeling the way that I am is because, like Cecilia, Kim has played an extremely important role in my life, and I look up to her. She not only makes me feel loved, and like I am good enough, but she has taught me how to be there for myself; how to rely on myself and talk myself through difficult situations. She was there to just sit and be present with me when I was curled up in her office, bawling my eyes out, but she taught me how to feel comfortable sitting with myself, when I'm bawling my eyes out.
She's more Cecilia than I thought.
And more amazing than I have given her credit for these last few weeks.
I'm going to do something special for her this weekend, and drop it by her office on Monday. It's the least I can do for being such a brat (putting it nicely!) these last few weeks.
And who knows what will happen next? Maybe, if Kim will forgive me, we can be friends like Cecilia and I are now.
I hope to be so lucky.
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