I have been fighting allowing my attachment to my T to grow since I admitted feeling maternal feelings toward her. The session when I admitted that was so intensely painful and terrifying, and unfortunately her response was not full of the understanding and acceptance that I desperately needed to hear. It took several sessions after that to repair that break. But, I still guarded my trust carefully, only giving as much as I felt necessary.

Over the following several months, my grip on my trust loosened little by little as more issues from my infancy and childhood came up, and she continued to be there to listen and understand. And then, at the end of June, she announced she was taking a week off in two weeks. Meaning I only had one more session before a 14 day break. That sent me into a tailspin, as she usually is very good about giving me at least a month’s notice before she takes time off. I was feeling, for the first time, the pain of being abandoned by my birthmother (I was adopted as an infant). I felt so lost, so alone, so terrified. And then my T came back, as promised. That first session once she was back was…interesting. Her presence triggered a shift in me that I physically felt. Just being in the same room with her was healing. And, I was able to tell her, without keeping my guard up, that I had missed her, and what those 14 days without her had been like for me. I was absolutely accepting of feeling connected to her. I was absolutely accepting of the therapy process, which I have always supported and believed in theoretically. Of course, actually living the process is a completely different story! But, for the first time in a long time, I wanted the depth of a strong connection to my T. I wanted and completely accepted my attachment to her. I didn’t see it potentially damaging or destroying, or a vehicle to certain pain and humiliation, as I had seen it before. And I felt steady, strong, and certain that my T was there for me, ready to offer her acceptance and understanding, and certain that I was accepting of it as the good thing that it is.

My next session, I told my T that, due to the deep core level I was at, I felt I needed to do some of that core work in her office. Meaning, I needed to grieve being abandoned by my birthmother, and the plethora of feelings and beliefs that were ingrained from that. I felt, and still feel, that any healing of this wound from infancy, my first experience as it were, will require my not being alone as I grieve. Up until then, I had been reluctant, actually adamant at times, that I would not be emotional in her presence. So, this was a huge step for me, but one that felt right. I had no doubts that I was doing the right thing by expressing this need, and had no fear of being rejected. Quite frankly, I expected my T to jump up and down at this breakthrough. Me, actually asking and being willing and ready to be emotional in her presence?? Truly, a standout moment. Of course, as expected, she said that we absolutely could work through this in session together. I immediately began feeling that pain and rejection and confusion stemming from infancy. I was literally on the brink of breaking down. Then, something strange happened.

My T said that she wanted to play a song for me. She said she thought it would be comforting to me. Riding on my feelings of absolute trust, I agreed to listen to the song. The lyrics are as follows:

“How could anyone ever tell you, you were anything less than beautiful…How could anyone ever tell you, you were less than whole…How could anyone fail to notice that your loving is a miracle…How deeply you’re connected to my soul.”

A lovely song, right? When it finished playing, I was angry. And became more angry when my T said that if she could hold my inner newborn, those words are what she would say. At that moment, I felt completely misunderstood. I hadn’t been looking for or needing comfort. I had needed to feel the pain full on in the presence of an understanding and caring and accepting person. I felt that my feelings had been dismissed, that my T hadn’t really wanted to hear what I needed so badly to say. I did express how her actions had affected me, and acknowledged that some of that trust I had so briefly felt so good about feeling and giving had been lost. She acknowledged that she had made a mistake, had misunderstood what I needed. I was then very specific about what I had needed from her, which was to grieve in her presence. That I didn’t necessarily need comforting words – I just needed to feel that pain and despair and confusion, express it, and take comfort that this time, unlike the actual event, I wasn't alone.

It’s several weeks later, and an incident that I thought had been repaired, or at least was in the process of being repaired, has brought additional results. When I had asked if I could do such deep core work with my T, I had been figuratively handing her my absolute love and trust, the love and trust that a small child feels for their parent. My inner little girls were standing there, holding out their love and trust, a gift never given to anyone including my adoptive parents, with the absolute certainty that their gift would be seen, acknowledged, accepted, and valued. It’s the only gift of any importance I have to give. And I and my little inner girls were offering it freely, not out of fear or because they felt forced to do so. But because it felt right. It felt good. But, my T didn’t see it. She failed to notice that gift, offered so freely and without reservation. To me, she rejected that gift, turned her back on it, and the message I received was that it wasn’t a gift worthy of her notice. It wasn’t good enough, not nearly enough for her to see and acknowledge. And, in effect, that I wasn’t good enough. Not worthy of her notice. That I truly didn’t matter to her at all.

The indescribable emotional pain I have been feeling has been a living hell. It is a pain from the very core of my being. I never in a million years ever expected to be so hurt, so humiliated, by this woman. This rejection, while unintentional, has wreaked havoc on my emotional self. I feel so incredibly alone, so worthless.

In about 48 hours I am expected to be in her office for my session. How can I go, be in her office, in her presence, feeling as I do? What do I say? And, how can I continue to see her, when I clearly am not good enough to be there? How could she fail to notice the importance of my willingness and desire to work in session on these core issues? And how can I even consider placing my trust, and that of my inner children who are so devastated, back into her hands?

Just the idea of being in her presence, alone, panics me almost to the breaking point.

I am sorry for the super-long post. Any feedback would be so greatly appreciated.

Thanks,
Musical Me