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.