I almost turned around and went home. I started feeling really sick about 15 minutes away from my therapy session. I thought maybe I was suddenly getting the flu or something. But no, I remembered that I experience this when I feel extreme anxiety. So I told myself to just hang on and and ride it out. It will pass. (I hope). Don’t freak out. You see, I have this extreme phobia about being physically ill especially away from home. It took every ounce of effort not to turn around and was able to wait it out. I just hate when that happens.
After the usual chitchat she asked me the usual question. How are you doing and did anything come up from the last session? And I, of course, said no. But as she started to bring out my drawings I decided to leap before I could think. Wait; there is something I need to discuss with you.
Thinking often stops me from doing.
I asked her if the letter was ready for me to see. Oh yeah she said but we can wait to the end of the session to go over it if you want. No I think that I better see it now because what I want to discuss concerns what the letter is about. I also thought that it probably wouldn’t be good for me to read the letter as I was leaving.
So she handed it to me to read. I had the same reaction that I had when she first told me about the break only on a smaller scale. I find it weird that it would still affect me so.
Then I just sat there looking at nothing. She gave me an inquiring look. I told her that I was trying to decide whether to give her the short version (verbal) or the long version (written). My t told me that she would prefer the long version so she would know what I was really thinking. She said that she was willing to hear anything that I had to say. So I gave her what I had written on the earlier blog post ‘Down and Out’ only slightly modified.
I was extremely anxious with trying to be honest with how I felt that my memory of the session becomes somewhat jumbled.
She read what I had written all the while nodding her head, saying good point, good question, that type of thing (in some wise sounding therapist way). She asked if she could respond to the letter with her thoughts. Sure go for it, I replied.
My t zeroed in on the statement I made about being too needy. She looked a me and said “you are not needy and in fact I wish you were more needy”. ”You do an excellent job of keeping everything stuffed down and in it’s place. “Oh” was all I could say.
My t told me that my feeling sad and down is part of a grieving process that I am going through. She said it is perfectly normal to feel this way. I never really thought about grieving when it comes to this sort of thing. But I guess it could be plausible.
She told me that she herself is going through grieving as well. She said that she has thought of our Tuesday nights together. We have met together for two years now and it will be an empty space for her. She has to work one night a week and she has been trying to decide if she will fill my space with another client or change it to another night all together and leave Tuesday night free. I was thinking I have a solution for that, let’s just keep going. But I didn’t say that out loud.
More to follow. It was a jammed packed session.