Yesterday at the school where I am interning a young student invited my supervisor and I to her birthday party. Ethically we can’t attend a student’s social event even if we wanted to. At the time I didn’t think much beyond those facts. We can’t go and what would we do at a 13 year old’s party anyway? End of story, right? Not so fast.

Last night I had a dream where my therapist was somehow at a house with me and a bunch of other people. Older, my age, younger, there were a lot of people. I had the impression she was there to watch or take care of some of the people. Then at some point it became clear the crowd was getting ready for a party and my therapist and I are there to take care of the older people while the party preparations were going on. She was enjoying herself. There was a vague impression that the party was, in part, for me but why, I don’t know. I don’t really know what the point of the party was. As soon as the party was underway, food served, people gathered around, me in front of the table, I knew my therapist had left. I was left with a sadness and disappointment, as if I had gotten so close to something only for it to go away. But at the same time I understood. My head understood but my heart didn’t. And so the sadness has lingered this morning. I have been left with a desire to call my therapist but for what reason, I don’t know.

Part of me thinks, “I can’t just call her. I can’t just call her because I want to talk. She’s not a friend!” Another part thinks it would be a kind of progress to reach out and to reach out for help. I am thinking too much about this, as I do with many many other things. My therapist is constantly telling me to “get out of my head.” I am not often impulsive when it comes to emotions. The closest I’ve come to calling her is to think about calling her answering machine just to hear her voice. Stalker much?

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