I find myself counting the hours, sometimes even the minutes; until I see my T again. Week two of this need to be with him and I don’t like it. I don’t like the neediness. I don’t like relying on him so much. Yet once I was there last week, I found myself ready to leave. The session was intense, we reached new depths of feelings, it was awesome in a way, freeing. But so horribly painful, I wanted to run away. I left exhausted and hurt.
The exhaustion may now be gone, but that hurt remains. And I don’t know what to do with it. Nothing, I guess? But it is not that simple and it is not that easy. I’m containing so much and yeah, I’m doing it well, but I can’t get my head around the reality we have faced. I cannot believe it, it doesn’t seem possible. It’s not me, not now and it was not me before, so how can this be? How was it real?
I need some reassurance right now and to know that it’s OK. Not just what I revealed, but what I feel is so unexpected, is it normal? Is it wrong?
I know what my T would say and I try to take comfort in that knowledge and to remind myself in my confusion, that whatever I feel is OK.
It’s serving its purpose, not just the opportunity to speak the truth at last, but it’s getting me where I need to be with the particular issue at hand. It’s helping me to let go of lies that I’ve held close and it’s changing the twisted perception I have, that was groomed into me. But by letting out this secret, it is as if I’ve been forced to turn around, to face the remaining lie that there was ever something good in “him”. And it’s like a punch in the stomach, winded beyond belief. I know it’s my way to more acceptance, but to an acceptance I thought I already had.