Today’s session was strange. In the past I probably would have referred to it as a wasted throwaway session since I didn’t talk about anything important.
I spent much of the session just jumping from topic to topic, not committing to any single emotion or thought. When I brought up something that felt like it needed talking about, we’d start to delve deeper and as I could feel us getting closer and closer to something painful or real, I’d suddenly pull us out of it and skip to something new. Or spend a few minutes in a pseudo-dissociated state just to stay away from the emotions. It was really jarring, for both of us.
I’m not sure why I did this. Probably to protect myself.
Last session (on Thursday) was more intense. Not in the traditional sense of how I experience intense sessions, but still…intense. I spoke very frankly about my biological parents in a way that was extremely activating to the system. I actually didn’t talk about any graphic abuse at all, but the nature of my upbringing is such that even the seemingly innocuous stuff turns out to be horrible.
The session before that was less intense, but in the very end, something was triggered and I walked out feeling much less grounded and contained than I wanted to be. The therapist sensed this and said, “You can call to check in later if this feels like too much to hold onto until next session.”
And a week ago, it was. It was so much. So I did call her that night and she called back. It was an important bonding experience between the two of us. I’m glad I called, but I sincerely do not want to make a habit out of reaching out to her between sessions. That’s too painful for me. I need to learn how to contain myself. Somehow.
Today, as I was leaving, she said almost the same thing. She reminded me that I am welcome to call and check in if I need to. I just yelled, “Oh Jesus Christ!” and then quickly apologized for my outburst. She said, “No, it’s okay. I get the underlying emotion.”
We didn’t talk about it (since I was on my way out the door), so I don’t know if that’s true, but I definitely think she sensed my frustration. Not with her but with myself. I get irrationally upset when I feel like I fail to contain my shit during session. Like, I just lose it. I start talking really, really poorly about myself and she usually jumps in to interrupt the negative self-talk before I completely spiral out of control.
I don’t know what’s going on with me right now. I’m exhausted. I’m hormonal. My bones and muscles ache all over. I have finals coming up, so I’m totally stressed. My psychiatrist is weaning me off of Klonopin, so now my sleep is going to shit, which is never good. But my sleep was kinda shit before the wean, so now I can’t tell if the brain fog is from too MUCH medicine or too LITTLE. All the more reason I hate being on meds at all.
I feel like I am on the brink of unraveling. I feel so close to the edge of…something.
But tonight, I will not call her. Not because I don’t think I can. And not because I don’t want to. But because I’m okay. I can do this. I can figure this out without calling a fucking therapist. I like things where they are right now with us. I don’t want to let her get any closer. I can’t let her become any more of my life.
I haven’t even finished unthreading the pieces of Zooey that are still stuck to me. It would be stupid to allow someone else to weave their way through my life in that way. It would be stupid to get attached to the idea of her being there when I’m alone and scared and feeling completely overwhelmed. It’s irresponsible to get more invested. Not now. Not yet. Maybe not ever.