What Is The Point?

This morning’s session was so damn weird. I felt very frustrated going into the session and the sound of my own voice only made it worse. It’s hard for me to even piece together what happened, so please bear with me through this post.

I didn’t mention this during my recap, but I lost some time towards the end of Wednesday night’s session. I remember the therapist asking a question and then everything goes blank. I knew I must have switched, but I am missing that time. Which really freaks me out. I hate it when I don’t know which part was out or what happened when they were fronting. My imagination tends to go to the worst case scenario, so I was anxious as hell going into session today because I was terrified of what may have happened and how the therapist might respond to that.

So I said nothing. I walked in and just sat there for a good three minutes (100 years in therapy time). Then, eventually, I started talking about how frustrated I felt. I didn’t want to be explicit about losing time because I wasn’t sure I even wanted to know what had happened during that time. I was also afraid that if she started talking about whatever occurred in that gap, it would trigger the same (or a different) part and we’d either switch again or I’d end up in some sort of dissociative or distressed state.

I spend so much time worrying about how I come across and how I’m being perceived in therapy. I am constantly in fear that I will say something that will trigger myself and then I’ll be held accountable for not being more responsible in choosing my words or not having solid enough grounding skills. Except….and this is important….there’s so much that needs to be said. Not just big, ugly trauma stuff, but little stuff as well. Important little stuff that has a pretty big impact on my day-to-day life. Unfortunately, all of that little stuff generally has a direct link to the big ugly stuff. Since I’m trying to avoid the big ugly stuff, I end up doing all of these verbal ninja moves to get my point across with allusions and vague references, rather than just being completely forthcoming. It’s exhausting. And lonely.

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