I told him about the dream I described here a few days ago. The one where we were sitting in the grass and he just held me and I felt the bliss of a newborn bonded with a loving parent and feeling merged with them, unable to tell myself apart from the other and not caring because nothing else mattered but the nurturing bond. I was shy about telling him because I was afraid he’d be disgusted. I think I was projecting my own feelings of disgust over being that helpless and vulnerable onto him. He wasn’t disgusted at all. He was touched. He wanted to talk about it further, so we did.
Our talk about attachment and bonding led to me talking about my mother’s rejection of me. I told him I never got over my mother kicking me out of the house when I was 17. It scarred me badly and still haunts me to this day. I thought I’d mentioned it before but I guess I hadn’t. When I finally looked at him, he was wiping his eyes. That surprised and touched me but I felt envious too because all I can do is sit there and talk about horrible things that happened to me in an unemotional and disconnected way, as if they happened to someone else. I intellectualize everything in session and can’t really feel the emotion of the thing. But then I go home and am flooded with feelings, when I’m all alone and have no one to share it with. No one to hold me and make me feel safe and loved the way I did in my dream. But at least the emotions are happening, even if the timing is all wrong. I guess I’m just not ready to shed tears in session yet. But I do get frustrated with myself for not being able to break down that wall any faster.
Envious of him or not, I’m glad my therapist is so empathetic. If I ever cry in front of anyone, it will be him.