therapy is 45 minutes and costs a lot of money and often the therapist isn’t exactly what you need to feel better. today I had an hour and a half of choppy, awkward talking with my instructor and as always it ended in a heartfelt hug and I felt vastly better.
I later said it’s so relieving to talk, just to get things off my chest - it’s not even about getting any specific answers and instructions like “do this and then do like this”, but just to get to talk…
she said she noticed the difference in me after I was done pouring my twisted thoughts out.
and it was good! she didn’t judge, never, and helped me form new thoughts, and applauded the parts where I’ve done well -
like, I told her that a few weeks ago I noticed I was doing well when I looked in the mirror and had a thought, “I could be pretty”, and she said I was adorable and that that was such a good thought/sign! -
and we talked about how last week there was a day when she seemed a little frustrated with me because I was having a cranky day and how it was important that we both know that I know that she can separate me as a person from whatever feelings something very temporary can evoke - that I know that she still thinks I’m absolutely okay even if there ever is a moment of frustration or annoyance or whatever. it was important to me because I normally interpret people’s momentary annoyance with my current behaviour as that they hate me, full-stop.
it’s very important to me that I don’t question someone’s affection for me based on one off moment or day.
and like I said, it was just so wonderful to pour things out. they didn’t have to be connected to each other, they didn’t have to make sense to me, they didn’t have to be well-formulated…
and I asked her to tell me how she feels about my cutting and my attempts to die. it was very good for me to hear. important. it was both an exercise in communicating about difficult topics and a sincere wish to know that I haven’t treated her badly by telling her of those things.
she told me she sees my cutting as something bad but not lethal, and therefore she isn’t in such a hurry to rid me of it - because she can see that it’s a survival method. she said that since I haven’t killed myself with it in ten years, she has faith in it’s not being the thing that kills me.
it was hard to hear of the fright she’d felt when I told her about the July incident. I’m not okay with having hurt anyone by my actions. but she said she’s happy I told her, anyway. but it was hard because my default assumption is that no one gives a fuck about me - and then there I sat looking at a person who clearly cares a lot and who has felt bad on my behalf and who, against all odds (in my opinion), wishes me well. I feel really guilty. but also loved, despite all my shit.
at the end I played her Fireproof, and she said that it’s been so long, and yet she’s still there, fireproof, and that we have a lot of time ahead as well.
I said I know we grind through the same topics over and over again and again, but that veeery slowly they’re getting smaller and will eventually be completely dealt with. I think I see a kind of metamorphosis in how I feel about things, and what topics are blooming up in our discussions. I see evolution - very gradual, but something’s improving.
I also know I said I’d not blab so much about my life here and I do mean to try that, to some extent, but
she suggested I try and talk about positive things here, to reinforce both to myself and any possible readers (?) that there are good things in my life too.
and they don’t negate the bad things completely - but neither do the negative things erase the good things entirely.
so this is, once again, a very long way of saying I talked with an understanding person and feel better (for now).
at one point she started suggesting that I emulate a cool, calm and collected person, and then laughed apologetically that she didn’t mean to imply that everyone’s going to just stand by and watch me fake being together whilst really falling apart inside -
but I replied that it’ll help, in the long run, to at least maintain the image of everything being okay… that maybe it’ll then start sinking in that they really are okay and that I can survive them.
what I do question very much is how on earth I’ll survive the emotional tidal waves, haha.
bear with me, please. bear with me. they will pass. please bear with me.
they will pass easier when I know that people will stay.
I am not a monster.
I’m a sweet, funny, compassionate, smart, adorkable, kind, thoughtful, generous, goddammit LOVABLE young woman
and it’s literally hurting me right now to say so much good about myself so I’ll go before I explode, haha.
an extremely grateful public thank you to the best instructor in the world for all her patience, kindness and unconditional acceptance and warm hugs always a shy nudge away ♥