Chances are that is not the case. But I never asked him to sit with me. I just asked if *I* could sit on the floor and he moved, I suppose, because he didn't like the height differential. Having had him "with me" like that, it would be hard for me to sit on the floor again, partially because it will remind me of his withdrawal, but mostly because my little kiddo senses he is uncomfortable, distressed even, by my "smallness" before him.
I know he said it is not necessarily permanent and that real connection, relationship and intimacy (yes, he seemed to use these words in the context of our therapeutic interactions as much as life in general) is about learning to tolerate both closeness and distance in a relationship. And big, grown up me, says, "Wow, if I could really learn to get close without running away in a panic...and then withdraw without clinging on for dear life, I would be free!" But little me feels the impossibility of such a thing, especially when no one will just give her sustained closeness, without withdrawing, without shaming her into reliving the rejection and abandonment of the past. At the very least, I was not ready for this. I have not been in so much pain since the week I found out about the incident with my husband's condition.
I don't know how I will be able to go to my session. I don't even know when my session is. Usually we would discuss it today in our phone call and he would let me know when it would probably be. Now, I have texted him my preferences and just have to wait and hear back eventually. I imagine myself in that lobby, and I'm unsure if I will be able to walk into his office. The idea of going into that room is terrifying right now. If I can even make it down the hallway, I don't know if I can go through the door. If I can force myself through the door, into a place that is filled with hurt, how do I pick a place to sit down? I can sit as close as humanly possible while respecting his (not even clearly expressed) boundary about the floor. I can be so afraid that I sit next to the door. When I imagine being in that room, I feel pinned away from T by that stupid coffee table. It makes me want to let him sit down first and then move the coffee table up against him and pin him in the corner, so he can feel how trapped I am. Honestly, I doubt I will even make it through the door without his help and I don't know how he can help me.
I feel like we will never be able to connect (emotionally) again, whether or not he allows me to physically approach. I *know* it is stupid. I know you will all tell me this is not so. That things are not completely broken like they feel. I feel paralyzed, like an infant who hasn't learned how to talk or crawl or even roll over. All I can do is cry out, but when he's so far away, I can't believe he will hear me or respond...so I am learning to stop trying to get my needs met and just trying to be quiet enough that I don't drive him away forever.
And still, I am forcing myself to tell T these feelings, to not give up on his care, and he is sending me supportive messages like, "I'm not leaving..." and "I won't quit on you, no need to worry!" It's like T is shouting passionately to me, "I'm not THEM!" and then Kiddo is yelling back at him, "Oh, yeah? Prove it!" except she doesn't have much patience for him to show he's different. I'm not ready to be left like this. I need to feel connected or I cannot keep going back there to do this work. But, I don't know how to make myself feel he is my safe, caring T right now. I'm not sure I CAN connect again, which seems like such an overreaction.
Early in Tuesday's session, I told T that I was "done," because I had admitted a need, allowed him to meet it, and now he was saying that doing it was wrong. I told him I didn't feel like I could talk to him anymore, and T asked, "Because it doesn't feel like I'm your friend now?" And I said, "That's not really the appropriate word." Then T said, "Because I'm not safe anymore?" and I nodded. T asked, with a lot of feeling in his voice, something like "Is that fair?" or maybe it was "Isn't that unfair?" And no, I was being completely unfair, but I can't help that T doesn't feel safe, no matter that what he was doing was an attempt to stabilize our sessions for me.
How long am I going to have to sustain this pain? I feel like I'm being punched in the stomach repeatedly. And I don't want to stand up anymore. I just want to curl up on the floor and play dead until the beating stops. And hopefully, it stops before it kills me.
Sorry if I'm being too dramatic for anyone. I have plans for all weekend, yet I still don't seem to be able to distract myself enough to void some of this pain.
