I'm still really glad I went to see my T. I really enjoyed seeing him and it feels like I have settled into an even deeper sense of security. We once discussed how the connection is not supposed to be the focal point, but rather the unnoticed medium in which you moved, a taken for granted presence giving you what you needed in order to do what you needed to do. It feels like I have moved one step closer to that.
BUT (you guessed that was coming, right?) the grief is back. I think I mentioned in my post before about the appt, that I talked about an important aspect of leaving, was the fact that therapy was it, became even more of a reality. That somewhere deep inside, I was still nursing the hope that there was an "after," that if I proved I could heal, the prize would be that I finally could know my T completely. Leaving was bad enough, but going back and discussing this, and going through the whole "to not realize that would be to still hope you could get what you lost and you would keep looking for something impossible to find." Which is all true, damn my always correct T.
But it hurts. Badly. I keep teetering-tottering. At some moments, I understand that what I want from my T is NOT possible, that if he dropped all the boundaries, I would face a horrible disillusionment because it wouldn't be enough. And not having those boundaries would really hurt me. So his holding those boundaries is, in the end, an act of caring and providing me what I need from him (maybe not what I want, but what I need).
But then it flips, and the horrible pain of not having what I needed rises up, but it attachs like a leech to my relationship with my T and I find myself furious with him and almost hating him, that he won't give me what I want. He becomes my father, withholding from me because he's cruel and selfish and doesn't care. And for moments, all the good disappears.
And then I recognize the grief for what it is, not me mourning what I'm losing, but mourning what was lost long ago. I thought I was done with this, but I seem to be coming to the bitter end. I know, I so know, deep down to the marrow of my bones, that I have to let go, but it's hard. I almost hate knowing that I will let go, and I will be better and I won't feel this way anymore.
This hopeless hope is a cage that holds me more surely than steel and locks ever could, it's a fantasy. But it's so beautiful. But holding onto it stops me from reaching out for real beauty all around me. At times I can feel like I'm not strong enough.
I'm sorry, I know this is really raw. I know I'm going to be ok, but I wanted to be able to just say how I'm feeling without telling myself I shouldn't feel that way. Because I also know what an incredible blessing this relationship was, that I really do have a special connection with my T, that it seems so spoiled and ungrateful to be complaining about what I can't have, instead of being thankful for the abundance I do have. I know I won't always feel this way (probably by tomorrow) but I feel this way right now.
AG