Last therapy session seems a bit of a distant memory, with the weekend and a full workday in between. At work there are politics, especially surrounding one individual who is very difficult, and, oh joy, is one of my main clients. Sigh. Why me. So I come home frantically strategizing on what to do, how to make it better. Anyhow. It will or it won’t get better, and life will go on.
So therapy was much much better. I got home and never thought of quitting. I took Friday off, and Ron was able to see me that day, so I wasn’t as desperately tired, and that really helps me be more open. I hope i can remember some of it.
First I tell Ron I didn’t agree with his interpretation of my dream last week. He asks me how I felt about him, when I didn’t agree with him. Frustrated, I say. Like you don’t understand me. He nods.
For me, the dream was about how my family is. How they deny anything painful, and how once it’s brought into the open, they think you shouldn’t be upset. I mean, sure, my son dying and them not being upset is an exaggeration. But this is what they’re like in general. My mother doesn’t speak. You can’t imagine what it’s like to live with someone who never voices an opinion, who never says what’s going on for her. It’s just brutal.
Ron looks at me. You think I don’t understand how difficult your family is? He’s a bit surprised. I think when I thought about your dream, I thought that you already know your family is difficult like this. So what else is the dream saying?
Well, I know and I don’t, I say. When I visit them, I kind of forget. I start to think it’s my fault.
Do you think the dream could be about you, about how you are treating parts of yourself? I try to consider this. Who knows. It’s painful to think, but maybe I don’t pay enough attention to parts’ feelings.
Then Ron asks whether I am like my mother – not opening up much. I consider. I actually don’t feel I’m like my mother, temperamentally. My sister is – she feels it is virtuous to always keep your true feelings to yourself. I think my impulse is to confide. My father is more like that – he will talk about his thoughts (at length) and feelings. At least, some of them. He’s not truly open, but he has much more desire to communicate than my mother does.
However, I see Ron’s point. I hate to think I’m like my mother, but it is true I’m not making friends. I used to have some friends I made in support groups, and my neighbour became a friend. However, these friendships have kind of fallen apart, and I haven’t replaced them. I am reluctant to confide, in that, I don’t easily tell my troubles. At the moment, it sometimes feels I have nothing to talk about with anyone, because I’m mostly just surviving. I don’t have the energy to go out and socialize much, though I make some efforts, which don’t go anywhere. I think it’s just hard. I’m unlikely to make friends at work, unfortunately. I don’t find I have that much in common with these fellow workers.
So I can see what Ron means. But I still don’t think I’m cold like my mother. I do have trouble finding friends. I’m just too exhausted to put myself out there.
Overall, I felt a lot better about our discussion around this dream than I did last week. I could at least see Ron’s points as making some sense, and I felt he did pay attention when I told him how I see it.
I’ll continue the session review in another post.