It was good seeing my therapist again after two weeks. I spent half the session chatting excitedly about my vacation. My therapist was more interested in my communications with my son while I was there, and there was a lot to say. I still feel like my son and I have a strong connection, and I feel like if he wasn’t my son, we’d be friends anyway. Talking about this, I realized the way my son seems to have a talent for pulling people together–the opposite of his father or my mother, both of whose talents were only “divide and conquer.” It’s funny how much my mother and my ex hate each other, and yet are so very much alike and both so lost in their insane delusions.
The only negative thing that happened was when he told me that my interfering mother tried to convince him not to let me come visit him, telling him I was just like his sociopath father (WTAF?) and I would try to “turn him into his father.” She’s got it in her disordered mind that we still live together, in spite of evidence to the contrary. It’s almost funny now, how deluded she is. But at the time he told me this I was hurt. Not hurt enough for it to ruin my day, but it still stung. He also told me that never in a million years would he let her come visit him there, because he can’t stand her–and for the same reasons I have problems with her. She condescends to him and makes him feel about two inches tall. One difference between him and me is he’s not afraid to be direct and say “no.” I still would be trying to figure out how to let her down without offending her (which isn’t possible since everything offends her).
More interesting than that, is that I had been convinced my deceased dad’s wife hated me. It turns out that isn’t the case at all. I was worried about my son and her being in such close contact (nearly daily phone calls) and assumed that I’d been “un-invited” to my dad’s memorial service just because I didn’t get the information right away. As it turns out, everyone there wondered why I wasn’t present and my son said my father’s wife talked about me in a very positive way, telling him that she thought I’d made a lot of progress since I left my ex. It was surprising (in a good way) to hear that. My therapist pointed out that I was probably projecting ill will onto her in order to avoid being hurt. In other words, better to think the worst and never be disappointed than be optimistic and then be devastated. That’s been my philosophy of life for a very long time. Another thing I do is reject in order to avoid being rejected. Has it been me who rejected my father’s wife all along, rather than the other way around? I plan to call her when she gets home from Finland. She wants to hear from me.
My son is the one who is slowly making us a family again. Both my children are no contact with their father now, and I’m already seeing amazing changes in my daughter. That pathetic excuse for a human being has lost everyone who once loved him and will grow old and bitter all alone while the rest of our family heals and grows closer. Not counting my mother and her side of the family, of course.
My therapist talked some about my many layers of defenses, causing me to project and assume things about people that aren’t true, but he thinks I’ve already peeled off the outer layers. How many more layers of defenses do we have to get through? I feel like an onion!
So, as it turns out, the whole family isn’t surrounding me holding spears after all. Only half the family (my mother’s side) is.
We also talked about my reluctance to enter into relationships in the physical world. I avoid them. I get intense crushes, and enjoy them immensely, but I keep them inside my head, and share them with no one. They are for my pleasure only. I prefer it that way. The idea of opening up to someone I feel a strong connection with in the real world makes me feel way too exposed and is way too scary. What if they meet me and don’t like me? What if I don’t like them? What if they don’t live up to the ideal I’ve dreamed up for them? (They probably won’t). I prefer my fantasies because I can’t handle reality. But I’m so tired of being alone. I wanted to talk more about this, but then the session ended. I’ll talk about to him about it more next week.