Posted by finelinebob on August 17, 2006, at 0:59:52
In reply to How do you let go in therapy?, posted by happyflower on August 16, 2006, at 20:30:50
> ...
> I am so scared of breaking down and crying in
> therapy that I think I avoid going to places that I probably need to go.
> ...
> I know my T doesn't hug, so I am afraid he will just stare at me if I cry. I am afraid I will not stop and totally lose my mind.
>
> I trust him, so why can't I trust him to see me cry....Why can't I let go?I just wrote this on some other thread but I can't remember which so I'll say it again. When I look at what my T and I have accomplished over 10 years, I see four stages:
1) what I needed to talk about
2) what I wanted to talk about
3) what I didn't want to talk about
4) what I didn't realize I was hiding from myself because I really, REALLY did NOT want to even face it, let alone talk about itSkip down to my soapbox if you need my explanation. If this stuff above makes sense to you, your sense of it is more important.
Personally, I'd put you at late stage 2. But that's just me.
Two questions (keep them rhetorical if you want, I'm always happy to answer my own questions):
-- Do you sit up and talk to your T face to face, or do you take the couch?
-- What is it about staring that would require it to be horrible?Storytime:
At first (for a year or more) I had to sit up. I'd guess this is what took me from (1) to (2). I remember getting quite dismissive about our sessions, talking about how I had this "teflon" personality and how no one seemed to "stick" for me ... including her. She was genuinely hurt by that. And I realized what an @$$ I was and how backwards I had gotten it, and it finally pushed me over the edge enough for me to stop worrying about watching for her reaction to what I had to say, get out of the chair and onto the couch, and trust that she wouldn't be judging me.I know that she does "stare" at me, and thank goodness for it. Even knowing she can see me, the fact that I can't see her and lose focus by trying to read her body language for some judgment rendered against me means that I can be free with my own body language even more than I am with what I say.
She knows when I kleenex before I do. She can see my jaw clench and the veins in my temples bulge and she knows to be quiet until I can win out against the part of me that wants to stay hidden at any cost, no matter how much rage I'll put myself through, and no matter whether it takes up 40 of our 45 minutes. Very important -- she reminds me to breathe when I stop doing so.
And because I'm not looking at her eye to eye, I can fall apart all "alone" and again she keeps her silence. She does have this cat, tho, who somehow knows the appropriate time to hop into my lap and end the tears.
The thing is, my trust in her filling her role, doing her job, being what I need (not want) her to be has become so implicit that I could sit up, look at her eye to eye and do all of this couch-stuff just as easily. And I've had to ... I have a fondness for sleep deprivation, sometimes extreme sleep deprivation, and her office is just too safe a place for me. 45 minutes of sleep would generally be helpful when I'm that way, but not the 45 minutes I get to spend with us.
End of storytime. I hope something in there helps.
Okay, <<steps onto his porta-soapbox>>
I don't even want to think what a stage 5 would be....General idea: a kind of mental triage. I came in with immediate problems (1) and we needed to stabilize me on those. Well, where did those problems come from? By this time, I trusted her enough to let her help me more, so (2) I was able to start talking about all the things that had crossed my mind about why I was so screwed up, yada yada yada. That took years. Literally. But (3)she got to know me well enough and I got to trust her well enough that I could start talking about all those "dirty little secrets" and dark recesses in my mind where my darkest demons lived.
If you're anything like me, (4) is for another time, when you have the strength and support and trust and understanding to start tearing down the walls and tracking down the Beast, to turn the hunter into the hunted. To learn how to stop being someone else's victim or, even worse, your own victim. To learn how to forgive, especially yourself. It's so d@mn hard. But the journey is as important, if not more important, than the goal.
poster:finelinebob
thread:677237
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/psycho/20060808/msgs/677321.html