Posted by pfinstegg on May 5, 2007, at 0:57:51
I am just now becoming able to face what happened. Just before Christmas, he opened a session by saying, "you are hurting me in hundreds of little ways." I was stunned, but replied that I wasn't aware of wanting to hurt him, that I didn't want to, consciously anyway, and that I'd like to know what I was doing, so that I could try to learn not to do it. Instead of continuing on this topic, he said, seeming very distressed, "this is unbearable!" Then he moved to ANOTHER CHAIR and said that he felt that I was going to attack him sexually! (how does one do that? He's 6'5", and probably ten times stronger than me.) I lay on the couch in terrified silence. Then he moved to yet ANOTHER CHAIR, and said that I was the first patient in his career with whom he felt unsafe. He has been in practice for 30 years, is a senior training analyst in our city, and has an outstanding reputation for dealing with patients with difficult problems- especially PTSD and trauma (like me), but also with even more difficult things, like DID and even psychoses.
I felt so sad that he didn't feel safe with me. But then, he came over and stood right over me, and, pointing to the door, almost shouted, "GET OUT! I felt so terrified I could hardly move, but I did get up and said, in a daze, "shouldn't we shake hands to say good-bye? I want to thank you for all the good things." I offered my hand; he said "I can't shake it. GET OUT! He kept pointing at the door. I turned away and went out for the last time.
Somehow, something in both of our unconscious minds had triggered off a dreadful, explosive situation.
The months since then have been the most difficult of my life. What had happened to the good relationship we had had? (I thought). I trusted him implicitly; I had dared to tell him everything; often we had felt close to one another, and had even said so. We had shared moments of lightness and humor. He had been unfailingly empathic, calm in the face of my storms, very caring.
I couldn't eat, and when I tried to, I would suddenly throw up, all over the bed or carpet; there was never enough warning to get to the bathroom, the way there usually is. I lost 20 pounds (already thin). I cried for hundreds of hours. But after a few months, I realized I had to try again- that I might die because of not eating. This wasn't anorexia- just a huge grief reaction. I made up a list of possible therapists, and forced myself to call the one at the top of my list- also a psychoanalyst, and in fact the head of our city's institute. I felt I probably wouldn't be able to trust anyone again, or confide in anyone fully, but I had to try.
I'm still very wary and uncertain, but I like the new analyst. He is a wonderful, careful listener, and I really do feel heard. Of what happened to me with the first analyst, (a colleague he knows well), he said, "this is very sad- he is one of our best and brightest." But he believed ME- that meant a lot. I have just begun with this new one (seven sessions), but I have noticed that I have left every session feeling better than when I went in. I can eat now.
I can't help mentioning that, unlike the first analyst, this one, who really runs the whole analytic show here in our city, dresses so informally- chinos and sport-shirts!
Well, that's the story of the most traumatic and terrifying termination ever, I think- and of my new beginning.
poster:pfinstegg
thread:755956
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/psycho/20070419/msgs/755956.html