Endings

I used to be so bad at endings. In fact, I have still never watched the last 2 episodes of the TV programme House because I can’t bear for it to be over! I left the last 10 chapters of the Harry Potter series unread for months back in 2007 because I didn’t want it to be over. Finality is tough. This weekend I am moving back to Belfast after 26 years in Bristol. That feels quite final, and really tough. 

When I used to leave Northern Ireland to come back to university in Bristol, back in the early 2000s, I would get so irritated by everyone at home to the point of falling out with them. I started avoiding seeing anyone or making any kind of fuss of leaving because people were too annoying. Only when I did my counselling training did I discover this is a very common, human, response to endings! If you think about it, it is much easier to leave someone you are annoyed with, than to leave someone knowing how much you love them or will miss them. It is actually a sophisticated defence mechanism to spare us the pain of loss and grief, instead we end up feeling like we’re lucky to have got out of there when we did! This doesn’t just apply to friends and family, it can be jobs, countries, communities, hobbies, even therapy relationships.

One of my most favourite song writers is Foy Vance. He is a Northern Irish folk singer (maybe he wouldn’t like that pigeon hole because he has a lot of different musical influences and covers quite a few genres, but it’s probably the dominant one?!). There is a line in one of his songs that sums up this behaviour; ‘I have watched you devastate to liberate..’ There is this human propensity to facilitate leaving or ending by making ourselves hate the person (or making them hate us!), the thing, the whatever, to avoid the pain of ending something that feels good. Or even if it has stopped feeling good, we struggle to communicate that we would like to end in an open and clear way. After all, why would something need to end if it is good or there is still some semblance of relationship or feeling? 

This is so common in therapy. I’ve had clients who didn’t come for our last session, unable to face the ending and perhaps leaving it like a little set of ellipses … in case they need to come back; it perhaps doesn’t feel so final if an ending hasn’t happened. I’ve had clients who got so angry with me, unable to bear the ending while feeling close or connected; they’ve needed to feel like therapy wasn’t working anyway and I was useless as a therapist. I’ve had clients who avoided the topic altogether and then stopped all communication. I’ve had some who have managed to hold the space for the ending better than I did - this is especially true, I have found, when working with teenagers. I always feel, as they walk away for the last time, as though a new book in a series I’ve been enjoying is just starting and I won’t ever get to read it and am filled with longing to prolong the relationship. They are sauntering off to write the story, or at least that's my interpretation! A tough ending for a therapist indeed.

However, sometimes things that are good have to end. I have had the best time in Bristol for 26 years. I don’t mean nothing hard or bad ever happened, but on the whole my life there, my friendships, communities, jobs and the city itself, hold deep meaning for me. The list of things that I am choosing to leave feels somewhat endless. My little flat, my spiritual community, my friendships, 3 jobs that I loved, colleagues who are real friends, harbourside walks, The Souk Kitchen and New Cut Coffee (iykyk), depth of relationship only formed over years of life together, not to mention every nook and cranny that holds some memory or other that will make me laugh or wince (!) or have a squeeze of the heart in fondness. 

I have lived all my adult life in Bristol. I know, however, that it is time to return ‘home’, and I made that decision 2 years ago! It’s been a slow and creeping season of endings and goodbyes. I have had to be intentional about not doing them badly, or not just walking away without acknowledging the importance of the relationships and the richness of my life. It has felt like a long and drawn out process by circumstances out of my control. I imagined (and hoped) I would have a farewell party, get all the goodbyes over in one emotional go, but it has been a series of smaller endings and goodbyes. In hindsight, this has been a kindness, as each grief has been taken out and looked at properly. Each ending acknowledged in its own right. Speeches were made, cards written and received and I’ve tried to not let my natural inclination to avoid endings creep in. 

The new beginning is in sight now - the ferry booked, the dog packed… I’ve learned to accept endings as part of the story of my life, and to even appreciate the rituals of marking them well in order to move on unencumbered by any regrets or broken relationships. Maybe I will even watch the end of House?!