Wednesday, February 16, 2011

The Dance Continues.....

I saw L (my therapist) today, and I couldn't/didn't/wouldn't talk.  Even though I see her for 1 1/2 hours, it's never long enough, and it's too long all at the same time.  And what made it even harder was her telling me that she wouldn't be around next week.  That always feels like she punched me in the stomach.

I wanted to talk about the 'relationship', it's so weird, and hard, and what I like to call 'freakish'. 

She kept guessing, albeit they were educated guesses, but it took her a bit to figure out the high-level issue I was having.  It's strange, all these things she initially mentioned are real, tangible reasons to be upset and things I need to work through, but those are 'easy' in comparison to talking about how I feel towards therapy, and her.  Sometimes I'm able to dance around it enough to where I'm finally able to blurt it out, but not this time.  I think I'm just ashamed and embarrased that I still get hung up on it.  That of all the things I struggle with, this is the hardest, the one that just sucks the life out of me.

I wanted so much to tell her what I wrote in my journal the other day.  All I could muster up was to allude to it and tell her my reaction to it afterward. I wrote that I can't take the constant struggle.  The fact that in the same thought I can go from hating her to wanting her to hold me.  And after I wrote that, I walked away from my computer and then it dawned on me that this is probably exactly how I felt (feel) about my mother growing up.  That hard realization hit me, and then I also became embarrased at my realization, that it was just so classic, so common.  But I couldn't say any of that to her.

The push-pull is exhausting.  I wish I could just let it be, except it, but I can't.  I want to but I hold myself back from it.

So it's a few hours later, and I'm teetering, but I haven't crashed yet.  I start thinking of texting her and asking if she has anytime to see me before she leaves for a week.  I hate myself for doing it.  I promised myself as I pulled out of her parking lot this morning that I wouldn't, that I would be strong.  So much for that.  I text her.  She, because she is awesome replies that she'll move some things around and get back to me.

1 comment:

  1. I used to feel the same way about my 'stuff' too. It was so 'classic' that I felt embarrassed to be struggling with it, like somehow because it was such a cliche I ought to have handled it by myself (particularly as I am a counsellor). But knowing stuff doesn't take the real pain away that was caused by our caregivers, and now I realise it is a legitimate for me to struggle with these things.

    I also felt (sometimes still feel) shame at needing her. That wasn't my shame though, it was my mothers (she shamed me for needing her), and so when I was able to give that back I realised that my therapist was totally ok with me needing her. She saw that as legitimate and ok and she loved me back. :)

    I hope that you can be gentle with yourself, give yourself permission to feel how you feel and need what you need. Love to you,