Saying Farewell to my CCAC Therapist

Published Categorised as Personal, News, Brain Health, Health

This was the last week with my behavioural therapist from CCAC (Community Care Access Centre). I still find it a bit surreal. It’s like my brain is going, nope, not happening, don’t want to feel this upsetting change. At the same time I applaud her going for a promotion and pursuing more education in that regard — any time a woman strives for more is a most excellent thing — I am overwhelmed by the loss to me. I think that’s why I can barely feel and hardly emote.

Last week, I meandered down to Ashbridges Bay and shot many photos, including that of a blackbird hopping away from me. I’d take a careful step forward, and he’d hop in the exact same forward direction away from me, sometimes zigging to the left. Eventually, almost with a snort, he took flight, and I caught him in the act of lift off.

That photo expresses what I feel.

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Farewell to a woman who took an intelligent but non-functioning brain-injured person (me) and got her organized, helped her set and achieve more and more goals, cheered on her accomplishments small and big, bought her books and raved over her photos countering a self-esteem in the gutter, guided her through difficult relationships until the neurodoc she had recommended took over (for the most part), and stuck with her long after going back to school while working full time, long past sanity said she should leave CCAC in order support her client (me) through a difficult time.

My therapist was the first one I worked with to understand computers and smartphones — and most importantly was open to learning new electronic ways to organize — and so was the first one who could help me use them effectively. She worked with me, not against me nor did she insist inflexibly that I use her methods. Instead, she’d suggest, we’d discuss, and we’d implement using my strengths.

She laughed with me, and showed me with her compassionate responses that the way some people hurt me was not okay. I know my core beliefs frustrated the hell out of her. I did hear her, and I think slowly, slowly they are changing. I suspect the biggest reward I could give her is to deep-six my core beliefs, kick them to the curb, stomp them into oblivion. And adopt a whole new set. Heh.

She is not going to leave me hanging while CCAC works on matching me up with a new behavioural therapist and will keep in touch. I pause and absorb that: this woman works insane hours but won’t leave me hanging. She’s a gem.

Ramryge angels at Gloucester Cathedral, England

Brain injury grief is

extraordinary grief

research proves

needs healing.

 

My Duck logo walking on my books in pink and blue shading.

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