Posted by Dinah on June 7, 2010, at 9:39:49
In reply to Re: From the sublime to the..., posted by Annierose on June 7, 2010, at 6:51:18
I *am* at peace. It's almost strange to me how at peace I am.
It all started with receiving absolution from my therapist for thinking the angry thoughts about not being able to go through this again, when she was first diagnosed. I can't tell you how powerful that was, and how it changed my experience with this situation. Whenever I think that maybe my therapist is an idiot, I remember times like that. I still am in awe.
It's not that I believe in the "Fates" with my rational mind, but... Well, I suppose everyone who knocks on wood pays some lip service to the idea.
I'm not saying I'm happy that I'm going through this again. I'm not. And maybe someday I'll be angry again. Right now... Oh, it's hard to describe. My focus is totally on how lucky I've been to share her few years with her. And what a gift each extra day is, to be loved and to make her days as happy as a dog can be.
She does seem pretty happy. Her blood levels have gotten way worse since she came home. Yet she's doing great to the naked eye. Dogs are amazing. A human would be miserable and sick. She's on tons of anti-nausea pills because the poisons her kidney can't filter out can make her feel bad. But she's eating again. She's playing her usual doggie games that she hasn't played in a couple of weeks. Attack the slipper (while I'm in them of course - that's when they're alive). And she and my Maltese work together when I'm in the bathroom. The Maltese opens the door (which doesn't latch unless I remember to close tight) just enough to get through, and this one pushes the door wide open and watches me in the mirror attached to the bathroom door. She did that yesterday for the first time in three weeks or so.
She makes me laugh with her zest for living (even now). She makes me feel different inside. It's not the bubble of happiness that used to tickle my insides when I saw my beloved tiny pup who died twenty years ago. But her enjoyment of life is contagious. I wish I could hold onto it, after she's gone. But it doesn't seem to work that way.
Still, to be infected with joy for a couple of years ain't half bad.
My therapist, and that session, are at the core of this quantum leap. When I get annoyed when he's half asleep, or when he doesn't return my calls, I try to keep in mind that he can't be beat at the "big event" sessions. And that even in the smaller, less life changing sessions, he's had *such* a positive influence on my life. And through therapy with him, I see life differently than I did before.
We were talking the other day about therapy ads. You know, like the ones that say "I like to work with clients who are motivated to change. I'll work over the phone. I think most problems can be resolved with hard work in a limited amount of time. I've had twenty three years of experience." and I'll *hear* "I've put in my time. I'm tired. Don't give me any problems." I laughed and said he probably had similar thoughts at the beginning of our therapy. He probably got angry and frustrated at my unwillingness to change. He admitted that that had happened at times. I reminisced that I only started to change when he quit trying to make me change. He laughed and said yes, he had learned that - among many other things. I didn't have the nerve to ask what those other things are.
I'm so lucky to have had a therapist who was willing to be flexible and to do therapy with me in a way that I could benefit from it, and who didn't tell me to go away when he was frustrated, or take out his anger on me.
I think maybe right now I'm feeling grateful for a lot of people that are in my life, or have passed through my life.
Who'd have guessed that absolution could be so life changing?
(Though I'd guess the results aren't permanent.)
poster:Dinah
thread:949702
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/psycho/20100529/msgs/950228.html