I think I'm just writing this so I can get it out.  I really wish I could call L, actually I could, but I wouldn't know what to say, sort of.  It was only the last few minutes (of our 90 minute appointment) that I was able to tell her a little bit of what has been going on in my head the past few weeks.  She said she hasn't been pushing for me to talk as hard as she normally would because she wants me to stay focused on all the things that are going on in my 'real' life. She said that I only have so much energy to give so she doesn't want to drain me too much.

It's strange that the person you want to talk to is the person you can't talk to.  It's the old, familiar push-pull thing again.

Why, if I know this dance so well, do I continue to do it? And even right now, as I am trying to force myself to open up and talk to her

There's a part that wants me to keep holding back, but then there's also this huge part that just wants to sit in her office and discuss all of it.

I want to ask her how she feels about me, am I important? I want her to know how important she is to me, even if sometimes I seem distant, it's really not how I feel about her.

I want to tell her that I often wish she would hold me, like a mother with a child. 

I want to tell her that I felt a twinge of jealousy today when I was leaving and another client came in.

I want to tell her that I hate being called a client.

I want to tell her that I hated it today when she said she had 'spots available'.



I wrote the above the other day, and once again so much has happened between then and now.

First, I did see L this morning and I was able to tell her a little bit more.  It's hard because none of this makes sense to me.  The loss of intensity is confusing and trying to understand it is only making it worse.  And unfortunately in her prodding I took something she suggested in a negative way

I got word yesterday that a close friend has only weeks to live.  She was diagnosed with liver cancer and started treatments in December but she was told on Tuesday that the treatments weren't working.  She was presented with the options of a whole new round of chemo, going on a trial, or calling in hospice.  After about 3 days she decided hospice is what was best for her.

I went and saw her for a couple of hours today. I tried to be a good distraction, telling stories of ice cream shops and quitting my job, and I think it lightened the mood of the house, atleast for a while.  But when I hugged her good bye and told her I'll be back on Sunday (with ice cream!!) I told her 'I love you'.  It was so out of character for me, but it also felt like me. 

After my session with L I sent her this text:

M:  I need to ramble some more, sorry I'm taking the easier way out with texting it.....I guess without the intensity I question the reality, or what I thought was the reality....it's tough to accept that I'm just a 'client' although I guess there's really nothing else that fits.  And one would think that you being so flexible and supportive would be (or should be) enough for me, but suggesting (although not outright recommending) that an option would be to see someone else just feeds my thinking....I know that wasn't your intention.....so now I'm fishing, I want you to give feedback on a question (or two) that I can't seem to outright ask you.....so please don't.  Sorry for the catch-22, maybe I'm just trying to get some of the intensity back?  Cause I know I'm gonna die a thousand deaths knowing I sent this?

L: I was not    I was not suggesting you see someone else, I was just probing you to understand your not feeling connected.  I do not want to stop working with you.  I am sorry if that was projected.  I believe that we have done extraordinary work together and I am so glad and encouraged that you texted.  Intensity we need to understand better and we will.

Me:  Hey, you weren't supposed to respond...next time I'll have you sit on your hands before you start reading....hopefully you won't be driving....But thanks, it's much appreciated.


I keep reading and rereading our exchange; it felt good.....and I haven't quite died a thousand deaths.....yet.