It feels like all the emotions want to pour out the minute I start writing. Anger. Grief. Sadness. Anticipation. Excitement. Rage. Talk about overwhelming. All of those feelings make it difficult for me to know where to start but I want to honor these thoughts that want to come out. I want these parts of me to have a voice. Now is not the time for silencing. You can do this, Maggie. That’s what I keep telling myself. Just breathe. Sometimes it feels like I can put myself right back into a session and remember what happened. Other times, it’s much more complicated.
Anyways, back to the follow up on my first post. There’s still so much I want to say about it. Ugh but how do I take it from the melting pot of my thoughts and put it into a coherent blog post? I say this to C all the time. She always says “It’s okay, Maggie. I know you well enough to help you put the pieces together.”
My sessions are usually once a week, sometimes twice a week and sometimes I get angry and skip altogether. It’s messy for sure. This past Wednesday my session didn’t go how I thought it would. Of course I wanted to feel the connection. It’s been a heavy couple of weeks and I was needing to feel like we were safe and our connection was okay. What I got from the session was entirely different.
It’s the strangest thing. From the moment I wake up, right up to the doorway to her office, I am totally convinced I’ll let this younger part speak. Let her cry, stomp her feet, throw a tantrum and be “too much”. Today will finally be the day. But AS SOON as I step one foot in her office, I lose sight of that completely. Every. Single. Time.
Since I started this draft weeks ago now, I’ve been thinking what the hell happened on that Wednesday? Or what the hell happened that dropped me flat on my face during the session. Where did it all go so wrong? I’m so over the attachment ups and downs. The constant wondering. The fear of having it ripped away at any moment.
C felt so far away that Wednesday. It’s like I can sense when she’s going through a lot personally and I hate that because what about me? What about every one of my wounded parts? I know it may sound selfish but I fear anything big happening in her life for the sole purpose that she’ll feel far away. If only it was realistic to think that her entire world revolved around me and attending to all my hurting, wounded parts. Sigh.
It seems like too much to go into all the details but C told me that my feelings toward one of my triggers was disproportionate and WOW did that set me off. I was mad bc, at the time, they didn’t feel disproportionate. It really did feel like everything was crashing down. Why does she get to tell me what feelings I can feel? Now that I’ve thought about it, I know there was so much more going on than just that ONE thing for me. It wasn’t that one trigger. It was all the things that it triggered. And that fact that C felt far away just made it all worse. I took everything she said so personally even if she wasn’t trying to attack me.
Do other clients get caught up in this same kind of tension / attachment struggle with their therapists? Inner child work is so hard. There’s a ton of work that happens in the room but I’m seeing that the majority of the work happens during the six days in between.
I hate how quickly my brain forgets our sessions. Especially the good parts. But sometimes, I get lucky and my brain slips me a nugget of goodness that I can hold onto. And sometimes that goodness nugget attaches to more good and I have a few things to hold on to.
At one point during my session, C said that she was fighting for me but I couldn’t see it. She said she will keep fighting for me and that she sees me and always sees me. That’s what I’ll hold on to for now. C always sees me. The hurting me. The curious me. The little me. All of me.
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