We talked about a lot of subjects that are normally hard for me to talk about at all. I have no idea what made it easier today. We talked about my old T and it was helpful. I also had a confusing experience with a doctor that triggered me yesterday. My T summarized it back to me: I asked for help and then he offered it and said he would provide that help, I said ok, and made decisions counting on him coming through, and he didn't and when I spoke with him again he was very authoriatarian, abrupt, almost mad at me for no spoken obvious reason ... and I was left there not only feeling bad and like a fool I trusted him but a little like what the heck? what did I do wrong here? I was struggling with feeling like it was wrong for me to even ask for help in the first place or ask for help in dealing with the medical consequences of his change in plan. (and my T summarized it well!)
My T asked if I had ever felt penalized for asking or needing help as a kid and my first thought was no not really, then I thought of 4 examples pretty quickly. :/ (ah, denial, my famillar friend-enemy.) I shared one with her and she said it really was "striking" and helped her understand my father a lot more and helped explain why I responded to this doctor now by feeling so vulnerable and small.
I am defensive about sharing about trauma or childhood stuff because I struggle with the idea that I'm damaged, or broken. In a way I am. Everyone is to some degree. I'm afraid I am inhernetly broekn to thw point of deserving things no human deserves. (just the icky stuff talking.) I'm trying to learn it's ok and I don't have to frantically try to fix everything that feels so broken inside or always be on the defense and never vulnerable.
In talking about what happened in the past and my response to the doctor yesterday, my T held it all in a way that didn't make me feel like I was just simply broken and damaged. She focused on how good it was (in her opinion) that I noticed how hurt or vulnerable I felt and listened to that and found a safe way to somewhat meet my desire to feel comfort - instead of my default response to stuff it, or get intensely angry and blaming of myself (and/or of the doctor), or just run away, or desperately try to fix it all in a controlling way... (shiesh, I could go on and on about my bad ways of coping.) She said she was proud of me. For feeling small? for letting myself feel that and being nice to myself.
Probably won't seem like much of a good thing, but to me, it was good. not intense good. just good and safe and comforting.
I'm tired of the bad ones taking away the effot of the comfort of the better ones!