So it’s maybe a case of too much therapy. I’ve been barely functional this weekend. Darn. I have so much to do. With working, I don’t do much on weekdays, leaving everything for the weekend. If I don’t do chores on weekends, and cook, nothing gets done at all.
I told Ron my tale about work, and how I’d realized that it triggers my feelings of childhood, when my father stopped speaking to me. So he was very interested in that. Then a particular part that carries a lot of those feelings, V, came forward to speak to him. She’s older than some of the kid parts so she can have more complex conversations, sometimes. Not that we did though this time. She is so very sad and so very depressed and wants to die, and it’s hard. It was hard allowing her to be there for any length of time, because then I get swamped with those feelings also.
Ron never does much to get me out of these states. He’s trying to allow the part room. After a bit, V asked him what she should do to feel better, because he was supposed to help people feel better. He asked her what do you need me to do? V didn’t know. Then she said ‘talk to me I guess’. ‘What would you like me to talk about?’ V is so sad, she can barely speak, and she doesn’t know what she wants him to talk about. Ron says something about how he understands how sad she is, and how it makes a lot of sense she feels like that. V just sits there, miserable.
Ron goes back to how extreme he feels the situation in my family was, how he couldn’t deliberately not talk to one of his kids for two minutes, let alone years. He’s said this a few times before. We talk about how I argued with my father a lot, being a young teen, and how that triggered off the silent treatment. How my father was the complete boss of the family, and everything was all about him. How my mother never had a dissenting opinion, or wants of her own, that in any way conflicted with his. How difficult I still find it to comprehend that – how she could subordinate herself to such an extent.
So the rest of the weekend, I have this ‘I want to die’ voice going on, though she doesn’t take over entirely. It’s very hard to deal with.
Then I saw my trainer yesterday. I guess it was too much exercise, though it felt OK at the time. I’d asked her to go slow and she did. Just exercise brings up trauma, so today I’ve got that going on too.
So not a good weekend. I feel kind of frantic that I’m not getting anything much done. I at least need to cook. Sometimes it’s all about survival. That is all there is energy for. I’m going to ask if we can go more slowly in therapy, so I don’t stop functioning entirely, like this weekend. I’ve got to hang on to some hope somehow.