Entries tagged with therapy: aftersession

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That was a good session.

I managed to talk about something I don't even think about, usually, and I think there's a lot there to explore, and I don't feel raw or vulnerable, just full of possibility. Good session.

It turns out that what I thought I wanted when I was a child, I don't (I did then, wanted it desperately, but my needs have changed); my instincts for what will make me happy as the person I am now are — my therapist thinks — right on; I got really unlucky with some of the relationships I found over the last couple of years, because they are replaying painful patterns from my past which are not entirely under my control; it would be really fucking healthy for me to date; and I really am doing work, honest work, in therapy YAY.

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therapy: aftersession

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I am discontented and itchy under the skin; therapy today was not good. This is not to say it wasn't useful, but it wasn't good. Last week was good, it was satisfying, it felt like something had opened up and I could keep working on the topics we talked about — mostly what my priorities in therapy have become, because they've shifted since I began this work, how to get out of therapy, how to become responsible for myself without the need for weekly sessions — this time I couldn't talk, couldn't think of anything to say or anything I needed to talk around.

It was unbelievably disconcerting not to be able to see Dr. L's face. (My glasses are broken.) Disconcerting and discomfiting; I am bad at reading expressions and she's trained not to betray her thoughts with her face, but the loss of any cues about what was going on in her head was kinda awful.

Probably didn't help that I didn't like what she said to me. It took a lot of work to become okay with the idea of having a chronic illness, to accept that my brain sometimes betrays me, that I am not actually in control of how I feel and how I react, and I feel like she's taking that away from me. Like I have been self-pitying to try to remake myself and understand and be okay with this revised self as someone who carries damage with her.

Self-pity frightens me. It is something that poisoned my father, something I could so easily be overwhelmed by, something I have contempt for in others, something I thought I was fighting against.

Maybe I am reading more into what she said than I should, but just the fact that I am reacting so strongly to something implied suggests something. Somewhere in here is a truth, maybe not one I want, but something true. And knowledge is always better than ignorance. I believe this, I do. Now I just have to grit my teeth and go after that knowledge, no matter how much it hurts and how afraid of it I may be.

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therapy: aftersession

(no subject)

OUR HEROINE walks into a therapist's office and sits down. Pause.

OUR HEROINE: I'm going to be a little relieved when you go on vacation the week after next.

THERAPIST: Yes?

OUR HEROINE: Yes. I'm....kind of in broadcast mode, these days, trying to produce things. It's...not natural to spend an hour a week being introspective, in the middle of that. Valuable. But. Unnatural. Weird. Clumsy.

THERAPIST: Hmmm.

OUR HEROINE: Yeah.

Pause.

Therapy today was awesome, as you can tell from the above excerpt.

Reposted from IJ, 16 March 2009

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therapy: aftersession

(no subject)

Therapy today was hard; we talked about me & money and associated freakouts, which are many and varied and wonderful (except totally not).

Reposted from IJ, 16 March 2009

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therapy: aftersession

(no subject)

I am not going back to group. It's not working, it's not helping, and I am starting to resent the time I'm spending on it when it isn't influencing my behavior at all. Now I just need to tell the therapist that we're breaking up.

This is gonna be fun.

(Yes, this is the therapist I had such a strong reaction to, all those months ago. Maybe I should have listened to myself more.)

(I'm not second-guessing myself, though. I'm glad I tried. I'm glad I went in hoping it would work. That it didn't is no reflection on anything, merely a happening. Yes, I know that isn't a noun.)

Reposted from LJ, 20 March 2009

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This is what sucks about a having a really good therapist: she makes me think about things I do not really want to think about.

( Like this. )

Reposted from LJ, 20 March 2009

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therapy: aftersession

(no subject)

Therapy was...pretty good, considering I haven't seen Dr. L for two months, and I think I'm getting better at being in therapy. At talking about myself, and not just intellectually. I'm not sure what to credit with this transition -- this journal certainly bears some blame, as does the simple process of being in therapy for, holy fuck, almost a year already -- and while it's useful for actually being in therapy, it makes me nervous, honestly. The repession and defense mechanisms have worked for a few years now, and I am not inclined to throw them away; I don't particularly want to work through what I know is waiting for me if I don't have any indication of what that's going to get me. Which, yes, is cowardly, but I don't care much at the moment. I know how to be broken. I have no idea of how to not be broken.

Reposted from LJ, 20 March 2009