Posted by fallsfall on December 9, 2003, at 18:58:34
Yesterday's therapy was very hard and very confusing. I really don't know what he was trying to say at the end - usually I will try to think about whatever he says at the end so we can move on in the next session. But I was so confused that I decided that I couldn't work on it, and that it would be OK for me to take a couple of days break from therapy. Just focus on my life until Thursday.
Last night I didn't get to bed until 2 (helping a friend). I got up at 6:30 to take my daughter to school. By 8 I was back in bed for the 2nd half of my "night's" sleep. My alarm was set for 11.
At 10:00 my phone rang. It was my therapist. He wanted to change the time of my appointment on Thursday - could I come in the morning instead of the afternoon? I told him that I could. He apologized for keeping needing to switch times on me (it really isn't a big deal - as long as he doesn't switch days). I said it wasn't a problem. Then he asked if I was OK. He had woken me up, so I'm sure I sounded groggy. Yes, I answered, I was just up late last night. I was trying really hard not to "talk" to him - he called to change the appointment, I didn't think it was fair to talk about what was going on, or my confusion over the session etc. I'm trying to be able to wait until the next session. So I didn't want to go into a lot of detail about why I had been up late. But he hesitated, and I figured he was worried that I didn't sleep because of the session. So I told him that I helped a friend go into the hospital. I told him that it was a friend from my support group. Oh, he said. (And I thought, wonderful. He's going to give me grief about helping my friend.) He said that there wasn't anything wrong with doing that (at least we are both thinking in the same direction now), but it was just that it was ... I supplied the word "distracting", and he agreed. He said we could talk about it on Thursday (except I have more important things to talk about). He reconfirmed the new time and we hung up.
There I was, in my comfy, warm bed having just talked to my therapist (who has a wonderful accent, by the way - very soothing). *He* called me. Sometimes I think that I call him because I want to make sure he is still there, and I want to make sure that he is thinking of me - that he remembers me. For once in my life I was actually having a day when I wasn't obsessing about him, when I wasn't feeling needy. I was so ready to just let things sit until Thursday. And he was worried about me (twice, in fact: that I had stayed up late because of the session, and that I would think he disapproved of my helping my friend). And he would have talked more about these things if I wanted to.
Talk about bliss. Beyond my wildest dreams.
This has got to be transference or countertransference or both. Real life can't feel this good.
poster:fallsfall
thread:288119
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/psycho/20031202/msgs/288119.html