Hi Magpie,
I don't have any wise words but just wanted to share because there's so much in your concerns that resonates with me too.
I had to smile (or maybe grimace) when you said introspection can be a headache. Sometimes it feels like a revolving door to me, and I just want to get off for a while! That's why I enjoy gardening and playing guitar/piano so much. Those "right-brain" activities give me much-needed breaks. Have you ever heard the saying "the unexamined life is not worth living"? Well, I'd say the over-examined life isn't much fun either! Someday I'll find the right balance, I just know it.
As far as telling people I'm in therapy, I only tell people who "need" to know, or who I'm fairly sure will not judge me or might even be supportive. My husband has known all along. I've told my sister and my aunt because I knew they would be very supportive. I also told my boss because my issues were affecting my job performance, she noticed I was down and asked me about it, and I've worked with her long enough to know she's trustworthy. My neighbor noticed I'd been down this summer and offered to lend an ear if I needed to talk, so I told her.
The only person I wanted to keep it from was my mother. One of the main things I need therapy for is my boundary issues with her - my family has a legacy of enmeshment, dependency, even emotional incest - so you can see why I wouldn't want to tell her. But then one day I was going to miss my appointment if I didn't get someone to watch my daughter, and she was the only one available. When I told her I had an "appointment" she asked what for, so I told her I'm in therapy. She didn't ask any more questions and that's good.
And I agree that a T's interpretation of what I say can be off, or it could also be me not seeing something, or not wanting to see something. Eventually it will become clearer as we continue but I think the most important thing is to keep talking about whatever is coming up, keep the communication going.
quote:
Originally posted by Chronically Transferred:
the mere fact that my "oh, suck it up" response was triggered means that something happened.
CT, thank you so much for sharing this and for illustrating with your example. How sad and scary that you had to live with that kind of uncertainty. It reminded me of one of my saddest and scariest memories: my dad was in the Navy and so some nights he would be gone overnight. Sometimes I'd wake up in the middle of the night and go to my mother, who appeared to me to be sleeping on the couch. When I would try to wake her, she wouldn't wake up or respond to me. I would get really scared then, start crying and say over and over again "Wake up, Mommy!" I was about five or six. This happened a number of times. What I didn't know is that she was passed out from drinking too much.
Now here's the problem: I can tell you and my T about this, but right behind it is a steel door that slams down and says "oh, come on, it's no big deal." That's my personal version of "suck it up" but it's the same principle. I intellectualize and say, well now I know the explanation so I can forgive her. But that skips right over the damage it did.
I can hear myself doing this in therapy over and over again: I tell my T something about my past, she offers her empathy and gives me space to feel, and then I turn right around and tell her why it's no big deal and then shut down. Then I compound it by thinking, if I can shut down so easily, then it really must not be a big deal, so why am I in therapy anyway? It's really frustrating for me and I suppose it would be for her, too. I'm really beginning to be afraid that my resistance is going to wear her out.
I'm reading another book called The Drama of the Gifted Child by Alice Miller. She talks about this very need to go back and process and grieve the injuries we had as children, and explains the kind of damage that continues to be done to us - and others affected by us - when we don't. The following paragraph hit me especially hard last night and I want to share it with you (bolding is mine for emphasis on what I'm having trouble with):
"Probably everybody has a more or less concealed inner chamber that she hides even from herself and in which the props of her childhood drama are to be found.
Those who will be most affected by the contents of this hidden chamber are her children. When the mother was a child she hardly had a chance to understand what happened; she could only develop symptoms. As an adult in therapy, however, she can resolve these symptoms
if she allows herself to feel what they were able to disguise: feelings of horror, indignation, despair, and helpless rage."
This reminded me that I'm not just doing this for me, I'm doing it so I don't repeat the same injuries to my own children. There's more I'd like to say about this book but I'm going to stop here.
Thanks for listening and for bringing up the topic!
SG