Therapy has become too painful to write about. I keep waiting, thinking with distance I will be able to write, but it’s not happening. I do miss having a record of it. It seems to be when parts are involved, I can’t bear to talk about it.
The good part is that I am no longer in a struggle with Ron. He seems mostly uniformly helpful and understanding. Even when he gets it wrong, it doesn’t bother me. I wonder, is this the same individual whom I fought with session after session, when I was going through group? This empathic, thoughtful, quiet guy? Whom I thought was wrong-headed, uncaring, and clueless? lol.
I’m in a depression. I spent most of the weekend in bed, unable to deal. Not sure what’s happened. I book an extra session yesterday to deal with being depressed. The session time is after lunch, and I’m Ron’s first client of the day. At home, I become convinced he was taking Monday off and came in just for me, which makes me feel horribly guilty. I write a panicked email at three am, and no, he says he was not taking the day off at all.
I felt guilty because it wasn’t an emergency. I just wanted the support. And he charges me almost fifty percent less for a second session. But it was OK to go. Because I was very sad, and I wanted someone to know about it.
We’ve talked about how I am ashamed of parts. It’s true. I wish so much I didn’t have them, that I wasn’t a complete freak. Ron is saying there is no cause for shame but I don’t believe it.
Ron thinks the depression is me mourning my childhood. Dunno. I don’t actually think that’s it, though I can see why he thinks that. Because I was describing what I was thinking about, lying in bed, hour after hour, and truthfully it’s not much. I just feel flattened, exhausted and very sad.
I tell him, that in the background, I’m remembering things from our apartment as a child in European country. And my relatives. And toys that I had. And I cry, so he thinks I’m mourning the loss of a childhood which I never really had.
A young part tells him about this. The vacuum cleaner vacuuming up lego by mistake. Egg cups with bits of water in the bottom. Our balcony which was windy, with torn petunias.
I feel like I’m inhabiting the mind of a young child, and it’s scary.
Anyhow, this child is very sad. She thinks she should be playing, and doesn’t know where her family is.
So yes, that child wants to still be a child. But I think the memories are more like surrounding memories. Because the people are kind of left out, with just scenery left. I think that part is sad about something that happened, with people, but that she can’t remember at the moment.
We also speak about a work snafu I caused. Last week, I lost it in a meeting. I don’t know what happens to me, I really don’t. But I spoke very impatiently to my boss, was very rude really. And I’ve been telling him what to do. Because, OK, he really doesn’t know what to do, he’s too new. But I have to remain polite and diplomatic. I have no power whatsoever. I am there to help make his life better, not to irritate him.
So next day, I apologized, and he accepted the apology.
I hope I can get back on track with him. I can lose my contract if the client gets unhappy with me.
Ron wants to know if the problem is similar to the problems he and I have had. Yep, somewhat. I know it’s an issue I can have with men. So I’m hoping by talking about it in therapy, I’ll keep on top of it.