I’m strong enough now to handle the pain it causes for me to admit that the most likely scenario of how my therapy termination was planned is this:
The Therapist and I had a bad session and that weekend he took about five whole minutes give or take a minute, and came up with his termination plan for me.
That is far less time than I had thought about it when I considered how therapy would end.
It’s far less time than I took brainstorming and writing out ideas for what I thought the end of therapy could look like for me and him, even after we had a therapeutic rupture.
It’s far less time than I spent researching therapeutic ruptures and how to be stronger after working through them, which was so humiliating to have done when I realized he didn’t care at all.
And it’s far less time than I deserved.
I fucking hate you, Aaron Gleaves.
I hate you for five minutes times forever.