The most healing thing that could ever happen to me.


I had an extra appointment with my therapist today because of how fragile and exposed I’ve been feeling lately. (I also won’t be seeing him next week because I’m going on vacation). I will still be able to post from where I’ll be, though. I think this vacation is exactly what I need right now.

A lot of things have been triggering me and making me doubt my ability to ever heal. But in actuality, I’m more emotional because I *am* healing–I just seem a lot crazier, at least to myself (other people actually seem to think I’m less crazy, which is good). The wall of emotionlessness and aloofness I used to protect myself was always pretty thin to begin with (if it was not, I might have developed NPD). Breaking it down isn’t really that difficult but it’s still very, very painful–but liberating at the same time.

I finally told my therapist my fantasy about what I wish could happen (but probably won’t). It was hard to talk about, because it’s so embarrassing and makes me feel incredibly vulnerable. But it’s the wish of my true self (Chair Girl) and everything just came spilling out.

What I want more than anything in the world is to be able to curl up into the fetal position on his lap and just let him stroke me like a baby (not in a sexual way, just a loving, parental way), and just feel the unconditional acceptance and love my parents could never give me. I was told, I think by my father, that when I was a baby, my mother just let me cry alone in my room. I suppose back in those days this was the fashion–to let a baby “cry it out” for fear of “spoiling” and I’m sure this was damaging to me, especially being born as sensitive as I am.

I just want to be a baby again and cry all my pain and hurt out in his arms and feel that healing parental love I still need so badly. I know this sounds really weird, and it felt so awkward telling him this. I also told him there is no one in the world I would ever allow to do this except him; that’s how much I’ve come to trust him. If this could ever happen, I think it would be the most healing thing that could ever happen to me. I know he doesn’t judge me, but it was still so embarrassing to tell him this and I felt so vulnerable I was staring at the ceiling and over at the wall, couldn’t look at him at all, and I was stammering and turning all red. But something inside me compelled me to let him know. When I was done I finally looked over at him sheepishly, and I swear he had tears in his eyes. He didn’t say anything for a minute, then he thanked me for telling him this. Then he said he saw me making enormous progress and also that he saw me working hard and taking therapy very seriously and he appreciated that.

Sometimes I do think there may be a little countertransference on his part–he sometimes seems to be more than a little fond of me and even–maybe–attracted?–but he’s ethical and I trust that he would never act on this or step over my boundaries. He has never laid a hand on me. And if he did, I would refuse because I value our therapeutic relationship far too much to risk ruining it with messy personal feelings. It could be I’m just imagining he has these feelings. It doesn’t matter. Whatever the case may be, he would never act on any countertransference if it even exists, and we have a good rapport and that has been such a blessing.

I do feel like I’ve made a lot of progress in the almost year I’ve been seeing him, and even though it’s no longer “fun”–it’s damn painful in fact now–I know that pain means I’m getting better. It’s going to take a long time, and this is what needs to happen. It’s like being in labor–it hurts like hell, but you know the end result is worth all the pain. And it is a kind of labor–giving birth to myself.


8 thoughts on “The most healing thing that could ever happen to me.

  1. The progress that you made in your therapy is amazingly well. It takes time and effort and you showed that to your therapist. I am happy to see that you are able to be where you are today because of your efforts. It is delightful to see the progress you have made so far. Much love.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Wow. That was a massive thing you did, telling him that and letting yourself be so vulnerable. That’s really huge. It’s amazing that you trust him enough to talk to him this openly, that can only be a good thing for your work together in the future. I hope you can acknowledge how much courage this took. Laura x

    Liked by 2 people

    1. God, I was a wreck telling him that but felt SO good after I did! I could only post about this here because of the anonymity (I don’t use my real name). But you know what? It’s always scary to admit something like that but I’m always glad I do and it hasn’t killed me yet!

      Liked by 2 people

  3. i often have this feeling i just want to cry on someone’s shoulder and let them hug me and tell me it is all gonna be ok. but a 34 year old can’t ask for that. i wasn’t left alone to cry as a child but i do feel a huge sense of grief and loss that the things i did go through weren’t validated. i did have a lovely mother who hugged me a lot but she didn’t have much time to validate me and often downplayed my feelings because she was trying to survive my father abusing us all. she kept saying that it wasn’t like we were black and blue and most of the abuse was verbal and therefore not serious. . she forgets the knives being pulled on my sister and the screaming threats of trying to kill us or throw us into care. . i know it isn’t her fault but i feel incomplete. my mother adored me but it was an ideaslised version of me. “you’re not mentally ill really, you’re ok” she would say after one of my suicidal, violent, screaming meltdowns. my father acted likme i was the devil. my mother treated me like an angel. the real me got lost….

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  4. and this was complicated by the fact that my father wasn’ t raging all the time. we never knew when one of his rages might strike. he did also specialise in put downs and invalidations. “you’re faking being sick” “don’t tell us about x touching you inappropriately, you’re just trying to cause chaos” “if you make any more mistakes in your homework i will slipper your arse” (i had undiagnosed learning disability called Dyscalculia, a maths disorder, so making mistakes hard to avoid) “you’re using witchcraft on our famiily” “you’re on the devil’s side” etc my father could sometimes be very kind, he was the man who made a massive hutch for my first pair of guinea pigs. he pretended to be father christmas one christmas eve. as a young kid i remember him often being great fun when he was happy….and he had great compassion for people outside my family…he always wanted me to think of others more. but he found me boring. a nuisance. he would tell me “go away or i’ll hit you”…. i wasn’t interesting enough for him. a boring kid. so i tried to make myself interesting. by exagerating my abilities with music . i did have a promising mezzo soprano operatic voice by the time i hit my teens and my music teachers wanted me to pursue serious study. but when i told my dad, he said although i did have a good voice and he encouraged me to sing at church, i was big headed telling people i had a future as an opera singer. . but i wanted to be special. i had a small talent and possibly could have gone to music college to study, but i wasn’ t exactly jamie barton. he hated that i made out i was better than i was. i talked too much too my dad said…. he said i needed to be made less proud………i dont think he realised this was an illness. my NPD starting…..


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