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Dissociative Identity Disorder Case Study: Part 4

Updated: Aug 10, 2022

It has been a couple of months since I have seen him. Our appointments have become less regular and I now have these weird feelings, feelings of happiness and balance. I am going through life how others do, with some ease. I am sitting in his new clinic, in the waiting room. It's my first time here.

"Hello!" Arms wide in a welcoming stance, his smile radiates toward me. I feel a sharp sense of sadness, knowing this will be our last session, I doubt forever but definitely for some time.

"Hello!" I smile back.

"Come through! But bare with me, I need to make a coffee." It is early, 9am, his first session for the day I am guessing. We walk through his new building and he shows me each room as we go. We walk to the back of the building and through a large room, which he informs me will become his group room. I feel another stab of sadness. This time it's sadness that I could have done some of his groups if I were not leaving. I would love to see him in a group setting. I imagine it would be just the same as when we are in session, he is always much the same, always stable. But I would like to see it.

As I consider this, he begins making coffee. We chat about the fact that he makes coffee weird (I like to let him know when he is doing things wrong) and the weekend. When he's done we walk back to his room.

His room is large, with a big TV, computer, and a desk at one end and a couple of couches at the other. We sit facing each other on the couches and I look down at the yellow shaggy rug. I have a quiet voice inside my head say "He brought that thing with him?" I laugh to myself as he asks me how I would like to do this session.

"Are you asking me that because you don't know what is more important, or because you are giving me the lead?"

He smiles, knowing that I understand his current internal conflict. He is aware it's our last session, I have sent him emails over the past few months telling him I am moving away and that I want a final session, but I have had some other struggles as well in that time. He wants me to tell him whether I want to discuss leaving or my other struggles. He doesn't like driving the session, but he doesn't want to miss the important bits.

"You know, it is a bit of both. I am a bit stuck in knowing what will be helpful."

"You know, it is a bit of both. I am a bit stuck in knowing what will be helpful."

"Can we chat about both?"

"Sure!" He sits back on his chair implying "off you go".

I begin a discussion about my recent struggles, which I also realise are somewhat "normal", problems with my parents and some struggles in my relationship. As I wrap up my explanation he smiles. It's a nice, kind, positive smile. "I love that we are here discussing every day problems."

I start to cry. This is the first time I have ever cried in session. It feels strange and I am unsure whether I like it but it feels natural. "I know." Is all I can get out, I'm not sobbing, I am managing to hold the bigger feelings back, but they are there, just on the surface.

He sits there, patient, as always, I manage to give a little more. "It's crazy. I never thought I would get to this point in my life." I pause for a breather. Considering what I am about to say. Wondering if he already knows what I am about to say, wondering if he will believe me. I mean every word of what I say next, I mean it to my very core. "If it weren't for this work, I wouldn't be here. I wouldn't be who I am now. I have my problems but they are problems with a pretty good life, not problems with being unable to remember parts of the day or problems with feeling like I might fall into a black hole at any minute. It's because of your support, unwavering care, and my own hard work. I am so grateful that it's making me cry."

He nods "I have never seen you cry before. Is it weird that I am so happy you are crying??" He says this with the hint of a smile, both of us knowing what he means.

"I mean, it's a bit sadistic... But in the context, I would say it's appropriate." I smile at him.

We chat a bit more about some of my "normal" struggles. Then he says "So, what now?" I realise it's been 50 minutes. He is wrapping things up, but I can tell it hurts for him, not as much as it hurts for me, but I can see the sadness.

"I guess I leave. But I wonder if you are ok if I still send emails now and then? I imagine I will see another therapist wherever I end up, but I would like to know this tie is still here."

I feel like I see a slight sigh, almost a relief that I have asked this. Maybe I imagined this. "Of course, I have told you before, once a client always a client."

I really feel that he means that. I don't know this man personally or in any way other than therapy, but I genuinely feel he sees his job as so much more than "this is my job, so I have to".

"Thankyou. For that, but also for everything."

"I wouldn't have had it any other way." The sincerity in his voice is palpable.

I stand up and walk to the door. He follows me out and I can hear him walking behind me in his deliberate step, possibly his hands in front of him. I get to the front desk and, for the first time ever, we hug, it is a genuine yet somewhat awkward hug that I appreciate. "I will be back, when come back for a holiday, I will come in. Thankyou"

"Well then, until I see you again, goodbye." That smile, it warms me as I say goodbye and walk out the door. For the last time in what feels like what may be forever.

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