When Your Psychologist Leaves Practice and You Feel Lost

On the relationship between psychologist and patient.

I started to see my psychologist about two and a half years ago, at a particularly traumatic time in my life. He had treated my daughter for several years by then, and she was comfortable with him. She called him by his first name. So I did the same. Let’s say his name is Miguel.

It was not the first time I had searched for mental health professionals. I had been treated for depression many years ago by a psychiatrist; but this time, I just needed someone to talk to. I felt unsettled. Things at work were changing and we were recovering from two hurricanes; our country was destroyed. My father in law passed away three days before the hurricane madness, and my husband was dealing with his father’s estate, as well as mourning the loss.

My father-in-law was a well known and respected general surgeon. Because of the hurricanes, not everyone learned about his passing. Every day, my husband was reminded of his father’s death whenever a patient, a fellow doctor, or some family friend heard about it. It was painful. This went on for months.

I met Miguel, and soon enough, I felt much better. Having a monthly conversation with him eased me sufficient to go on, at work and at home. I take my mental health seriously, and throughout my life, I’ve learned how to take care of my emotional well-being. I know I can’t take care of my daughter, or my husband if I am not well enough myself. So I listened to Miguel, to his advice, applied things I’ve learned from past experiences, and I really took care of myself. I was proud of myself, and so was Miguel. So, after eight or nine months in therapy, he discharged me.

I was happy, but I missed him, I missed our conversations. Soon enough, things at work got messy, and I began to see him again. Then this year, between earthquakes, the pandemic, work disruption, and other changes, I was working with Miguel with my stress levels and adaptation. Until our last session, when he casually informed me that he was going on an internship to continue further studies. He was leaving the country, just like that.

He told me it was his pleasure to have worked with me. He thanked me for trusting him all this time. He said to me that another professional will continue therapies with me, and that was it. I just wanted to cry. I said goodbye and wished him luck.

I know he is just a health professional doing his job, but I couldn’t help but feel abandoned. I thought about my daughter, who’s been in therapy with him for years. I feared she would go backward in her treatment.

This whole situation made me wonder about how do professionals deal with their own attachments. Do they really care about us? Do they pretend to care about us?

A few years ago, I was getting certified as a leadership coach. I remember asking my instructor: “How about the coach-coachee relationship after you achieved the desired results?” And she just said that I shouldn’t be attached to my coachees, that this is a professional relationship. I should celebrate them and let them go. As simple as that. I remember feeling odd, maybe it was just me.

Although I know coaching is nothing like psychotherapy, I can’t help but compare the coach-coachee relationship with the doctor-patient relationship. In coaching, we are taught to be present, to actively listen, to connect. There is nothing in the world more important than what your coachee is saying in your sessions. You, as a coach, feel the connection, you feel their pain, celebrate their accomplishments.

How do you disconnect such a strong connection? Especially one that you’ve been building through trust. Maybe it’s me. Perhaps I am too empathetic, too sensitive.

As a patient, I really felt connected with Miguel. I trusted him enough with my problems, insecurities, and emotions. He was a great sounding board. So I guess it is normal for me to be a little bit lost without his guidance. But how does he feels for all the patients he left? Maybe this wasn’t an easy decision for him to make, but he also had to take care of himself.

On the other hand, I should be mature enough to know this was his job, and he was really good at it. I should move on too and give my new therapist the same opportunity I gave Miguel at the beginning.

Right now, I’m going through some very stressful times, and I’m doing my best to stay afloat with the tools I have. I am getting to it. Thanks to Miguel, I developed new skills that I’ll continue practicing even after our sessions are over. Though I still feel sad about him going away, I am thankful for the time we had, and everything I learned from therapy. I think he really did care about his patients.

I know I’ll miss him, but I am also willing to build a trustworthy relationship with my new therapist.