October 10th is World Mental Health Day...

Eoneren. Getty Images.

I made it through my first year of widowhood with the help of a therapist. But when year two became more difficult, at times unbearable, I thought I needed a new therapist, one with a completely different approach.

I carefully selected a second therapist, one who listed his expertise as "working with older adults who lost their spouse and are experiencing intense grief". He sounded like the perfect fit. 

During my initial 15-minute consult, he was very aggressive, and I thought that was exactly what I needed, so I made the switch.

My previous therapist's sessions were 60 minutes long, which I thought was the norm, and I was surprised to learn my new sessions would only be 45 minutes.

My new therapist begins each session with a 4-5 minute summary of our last session and spends a few minutes at the end scheduling our next session, leaving about 35 minutes for actual talk therapy. At times, it felt like the session ended shortly after it got started.

I had some issues buried deep and had chosen not to discuss them before, but decided I finally had to come clean and say the hard part out loud. It was deeply personal and extremely emotional, but I knew it might help explain a lot of my current dilemmas, so I opened up to my new therapist.

His response was explosive: his voice loud and angry, his body language animated. It was shocking and completely unexpected. He categorized events he only had a snapshot of, and called me demeaning names. He seemed a little out of control, drunk on power.

I found his word choice offensive and his anger-driven solutions extreme. He offered only very aggressive solutions.

He poured gasoline on a large part of my life, then handed me a box of matches to solve the problem. He wanted me to burn it all down and start over. And just as it reached a fever pitch, my 45 minutes were up. 

After he scheduled my next appointment, the session ended, and we both signed off. I sat alone in my kitchen, numb, trying to process everything that just happened.

For the next hour, I paced around my house, occasionally looking out the windows, trying to make sense of it all, but I couldn’t.

His testosterone-filled response was over the top and reckless, with little concern as to how it would affect me. It was as though he took my situation personally and was attempting to solve it as if it were his own, but it wasn't. 

After struggling through the days that followed, I felt I could no longer trust him to guide me through what has been the most difficult time of my life. In my opinion, he acted irresponsibly and crossed the line.

A few days later, he sent me a confirmation request for our next appointment, and I replied, "Unable to attend." He didn't let it go and pressed me for a reason, asking me if I was okay. He knew something was wrong and that our last session, volatile as it was, was likely the reason. I told him I didn't think he acted appropriately, and it didn't sit well with me.

He apologized for his choice of words, admitting he "should have been more gentle in his terminology." When he asked if I still wanted to schedule another session, I told him I didn't, and that I decided to move on.

His response came quickly and was short. “Okay. Best wishes,” was all he said. I'm sure his style works for some people; it just didn't work for me. I'm not saying he never helped me; he did, but this interaction really upset me, and I couldn't get past it. 

I immediately scheduled an appointment with my original therapist, who left the door open for a potential return when we parted ways. I’ll be in session with her next week, and I'm looking forward to it. Hopefully we can sort everything out, and there are no lingering effects…

On the bright side, I went out with a very beautiful, compassionate, and interesting woman at the end of last week, and we had a great time. I consider myself very fortunate to have met her when I did.

I believe everything happens for a reason, and that God brings people into our lives when we need them most…

Change is gonna do me good…