I hope this therapy is going somewhere, because it sure is painful. I still deeply feel that communicating is impossible, yet here I am again.
I spent the weekend alone, though I did have therapy on Saturday. I’ll try and be more social next weekend.
I can’t remember the details, but we had two main sections in my session. It’s stupid, because there were actually issues I wanted to get Ron’s input on, but everything flew out of my mind that morning.
One other thing – Ron was no longer especially cheerful. Thank God. He was neutral I’d say.
First I started talking about work. I’m having real trouble determining if I’m acting appropriately. I feel really critical of the way this project is being managed, and am trying to change this. I seem to have no trouble speaking up. My client E doesn’t scare me at all. But then, I second guess myself afterwards – am I being too outspoken? Will there be repercussions?
I actually went into a deep depression last weekend, after the emailing the director incident. I couldn’t work out whether I’d been out of line or not. If I thought back to exactly what I’d written, it seemed OK. On the other hand, the whole thing freaked me out.
I don’t know why it hit me so hard, I tell Ron. But….I think it must have to do with my father and my family. There were such severe repercussions to speaking my mind as a child – I was basically shunned by my family. My father stopped speaking with me.
Ron looks serious. I don’t think you need to look much further than that, he says. That is severe.
So maybe I was feeling the feelings last weekend that were too scary to feel at that time when I was young.
I feel so critical of this client, E, but at the same time, I do like him. He doesn’t seem to take my comments super personally. I know he’s the type who just couldn’t give someone the silent treatment. He can be accepting and cheerful, and I crave that acceptance.
I mention a dream about a wedding dress, but the discussion doesn’t go anywhere much. I talk a bit about how it was when I got together with my ex (we never officially married), how things ere not great right from the start, how trapped I’d felt.
After about half an hour, I feel so torn. The talk doesn’t seem to be helping me, or getting at what’s really going on. I say this to Ron.
He says a bunch of stuff I can’t remember. The gist is he thinks I’m struggling with parts, and that’s hindering me from doing things I need to do, like going out and being with people.
Sure, I say. So what do I do?
Well, bringing them in here directly seems to be helpful.
So, I let parts speak. They have been clamouring for attention anyway. In a way, therapy is for them, or so they feel, so if I the adult take a lot of time, to them, it’s a complete waste.
So B comes forward and very quickly tells Ron about all the things important to her – the bakery she wants to go to, the wooden angel we bought….
Then behind B comes another part. This part is full of pain. She feels things pressing down on her, she can’t see….
Then I see this image of being very small, and alone in an underground cave. I’m seeing it from outside and above, so I am not actually the child. I feel really bad. I cry a bit, and am just stunned by the amount of sorrow.
The good thing about this experience is I no longer feel split – this experience completely takes over, so while it’s difficult, I no longer have that freaked out split in half feeling.
I’m not sure if Ron says anything. It’s already time to go, so I spend some time trying to ground. I’m feeling as if I literally can’t move, so it takes a few minutes to come back.
So I leave. I’ve felt sad this weekend, and everything has been difficult. I didn’t feel particularly close to Ron, but I know if he hadn’t been there, I would not have felt safe enough to let those feelings come up.