… One moment everything is ok, the next, the worst news ever come on and pulls away the ground from underneath me. And there is no warning.
Well the last post will definitely qualify for the “famous last words” category.
Status right now: very high constant anxiety levels, two sleepless nights, run down, exhausted and utterly fed up with being so whiney.
Talked to KT today as I wasn’t doing well at all and although I’ll see her next week, I just couldn’t wait, had to have some comfort.
Talked to her about meds again. I’m not at all keen on them, she’s neither pro nor contra, but explained that in my situation taking something to take the edge off might give me enough space to take a breath or two without freaking out.
Feel like I’m drowning and constantly on edge.
So I called my GP surgery and they didn’t have an appointment, not even an emergency one (yes, that’s how desperate I am) but was told that a GP will call me.
Which he did a few hours later. So I asked about different meds options, explained my case.
Was offered 10mg Citalopram or Diazepam. Asked what the difference was, that I don’t want something long term, that I’m afraid of becoming addicted, whether there’s any other options.
No other options I was told. He explained the differences.
So then this (rather rushed but nice enough) GP prescribed me antidepressants and Valium after a 3 minute conversation, without having seen me, checked my blood pressure, without even asking me whether I take any other drugs, whether I am pregnant… Anything at all really.
Welcome to the NHS!
I have both sets of drugs in the house now. Still not sure which (and if at all) I should take.
Good night. Hopefully.
After a rather cringey session with KT (I was cringing at my adolescent behaviour, she was totally at ease and awesome as usual), prior to which I might or might not have missed-called her answering machine over 50 times in two weeks just to hear her voice (Did I just hear you say quick-fix for the addicted?!), I was reading one of my favourite blogs – therapy tales – and in the comments someone mentioned transference neurosis/limerence and I thought:
“Oh Great! Another stamp to add to my little passport book of crazy!”
And I drew my own passport with all the labels I’ve collected over the years.
And at that moment something inside me snapped. And I realised that more than anything in this world (even more than wanting KT to love me like her own child) I want to be well. I want to be happy with who I am. I want to know that I am worthy of love. To believe it myself, so that I can accept the love that my wonderful loving partner is giving me every day.
And dwelling on the unfairness of not having KT as my mom is not going to get me there. It’s distracting me from what I really want to focus on.
So I stopped.
Dwelling, not therapy!
And I can’t say that my emotions for her have changed, just my focus and expectations.
And I am really glad that she gives me the opportunity and creates an environment which is safe enough for me to go down the dark alleys of my soul. And that she stays by my side along the way. And doesn’t turn away when things get directed at her. And helps me through it.
I still have a long way to go but I’m quite confident that, with time and a lot of hard work, I can achieve a healthy balance in my life.
Today is a good day.
… when does the emotional (mother) transference for your therapist stop being transference and turns into genuine affection? How do you know? Because at this point I’m sure that I can’t undo the feelings I have for KT. As innocent as they are, their origin might have been fueled by the imbalance of therapy, but the reality is they’re not likely to go away again. They run too deep to be wiped away by logic. The closest thing to a mother’s unconditional love that I’ve experienced in therapy, has left me in a bit of a pickle…
My heart is wide open and filled with love for the one person that is certain to never love me back.
And I wonder if this will ever change…?
So soothing… enjoy!
“All roads lead to where we stand
And I believe we walk them all
No matter what we may have planned.”
I am again filled with love. But this time around it’s not scary, weird or creepy. It doesn’t make me doubt myself. It doesn’t leave me a sobbing mess. It doesn’t feel wrong. It feels wonderful.
And I know that KT will not ever love me back. Because if she would, she wouldn’t be able to help me as my therapist. But after several months and sessions of talking about love, the lack of it, the nature of it and the impossibility of her ever loving me, I can honestly and unashamedly say that I love KT with all my heart. And it’s ok.
I’ve always struggled to understand those people, that went into therapy with their mind, not their heart. Those that thought therapy was fascinating. To me it is painful and wonderful, safe and scary. It is not a business relationship. It is one of the most intimate relationships (minus the eros and physical contact) in my life. And I am very grateful for KT and for all the doors she has enabled me to open in my life. And that fills me with love.