The reason I think it was one year ago is because we were locked out of his office building, as he had decided to work on a holiday. He was a little late. We had to sit outside at a table next to a fountain in front of the the building. He had to call several colleagues to find someone who lived in the area to let him in, since he commutes from far away. We had met a few times before in my H's sessions (with Boo as well), but I was very anxious about meeting him one-on-one and almost cancelled the whole thing.
I didn't know I would still be with this man a year later...I was thinking in terms of weeks or months. I had only gone, because I thought it would help my H, and because H kept saying that T really thought I needed some sort of support after what we had been through. He tried to refer me elsewhere, but I was so scared of therapists that I only agreed to see him, because I had met him already.
I didn't know I would attach. It was always easy to talk to him. I found myself telling him things that I never would have told others. Not the content, because I can easily discuss seemingly difficult subject matter without feeling anything...but, the really honest, vulnerable stuff. I remember warning him in my second or third session about what I now know is called transference, describing experiencing it in high school, railing against needing anyone outside of God and myself.
I didn't know it would get so hard. I honestly had no clue how gut-wrenchingly painful things would get before they started to get better. I didn't know what it would be like to feel. I didn't even know how much I had avoided feeling, how much I had avoided really knowing or understanding about myself and my past. I'm still not sure I've grasped it.
I never thought I could be known. Even though I've told some people the same information I've told T, I've never felt seen in the way I do with him.
I didn't ever expect to love or feel loved, to have the confusion of getting just what I need in a relationship that can't ever be what I really want it to be. I never expected to come across such radical acceptance to anything and everything inside of me, so impossible that I have no choice but to believe him when he tells me it is his connection with God informing and enabling our connection to one another.
I never expected to be able to stay...through the sort of pain that happens during ruptures. I never expected to find someone who said sorry and genuinely meant it, who would work very hard to make things better when they got broken, who would not leave all of that work on me.
This isn't at all what I imagined, or what I even wanted, out of therapy. It's a very bitter-sweet feeling. Tonight, I see him at 9:00 pm and I am sad that we only have an hour-and-a-half as I would really like to take in what this year has meant, to see if I can experience me meaning something to him, as it can be so hard to internalize. I made him a sock monkey (from new, just-bought socks...I could not give my T something I had worn, ack!). Well, still putting on the ears and finishing touches, but otherwise, it's done. He loves monkeys. Someone left a monkey rattle wrist strap in his office a few months ago and he would look at it, shake it at me, try to get the "kids" out...before I started bringing my own things for that. He's very playful and engages them with my stuffed animals when I allow them to be brought out. I know for a fact that he has had gifts before, but they were fun (magic trick type stuff) and not seemingly as meaningful. I don't know if he will accept it. I don't know if I can even offer it. I know he will think it is "great" either way and be so happy I thought of him, but I am feeling rather ridiculous about it.
I don't know really want I want to say by posting all of this. I am just in a very reflective mood today and wanted to share as you all have been a part of my journey as well. I can't believe it has been one year. I am not even remotely the person I was a year ago. It's like I needed to be deconstructed entirely and most of the last year was spent doing it and now we've begun the hard work of piecing things back together and repairing or replacing the broken parts. I wonder how many more anniversaries I will have with this T. It's hard, because I want to get better...but I also want to stay. And I want him to stay. I want forever, but nobody gets that with anyone. So, I just need to take in what I do get and make it a part of me, because then it (and my T) can never really be taken away.