As a Houston resident for the last 20-something years, I have become accustomed to the biennial tradition of escaping impending natural disaster by car. Sarcastically known as hurrications, these mini trips are typically stressful (e.g., Will our house still be there when we go back?). Occasionally, there have fun moments, like when we went to Norman, OK to escape Rita and ended up watching the whole first season of Lost in a single sitting with my husband’s best friend and his wife.

My therapist is enjoying a stay-cation this week, a product of these COVID-plagued times. For some reason, August seems to be the agreed month for all psychologists to take off. Note that they haven’t mentioned this in my grad program yet, but I’m sure we cover it in the Professional Practice Seminar at the very end.

Having been in twice-weekly therapy since January, it’s a bit strange to go a whole week without a session. In some ways, it’s been nice to not have to plan around my appointments. Even over Zoom, they are draining. It’s hard to explain how it is that an hour spent talking about the jumbled contents of your mind can fell as exhausting as running a half marathon, but it is. It takes a lot of energy. It’s well-spent energy and generative time that’s also intense and fatiguing. Often, I need a nap afterwards. Still, I miss the opportunity to process thoughts and emotions with someone who is compassionate but not emotionally invested.

It’s been good to have this week to work through things on my own, write in my journal, and let my mind reset a bit. Therapy is hard, good, and necessary work. Soon, it will be time to get back to it. For now, a little rest is the right thing.

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