Psycho-Babble Psychology | about psychological treatments | Framed
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much better

Posted by shortelise on February 8, 2004, at 17:54:06

In reply to Re: Our Right Hemispheres (long) Crooked Heart, posted by Pfinstegg on February 8, 2004, at 15:08:34

Reading this is so helpful. The right brain stuff is fascinating, and hits home for me.

For more than five years I have been in therapy.

For several years I thought of my psych as Mephistopheles, called him that to myself and my friends. And of course I told him. I had gone to a show of 19th century Polish paintings and there was one of a woman sitting at a table, her head in her hands, her posture one of defeat, and next to her sat a man, tipped back in his chair, smirking, seeming to take pleasure in the devastation of the woman. The man seemed like the devil to me. At the time, my T felt like that to me, that he sat watching me, questioning me, seeing me suffer and taking pleasure from it because he disdained me. Ah, transference...
Then I began to believe that he did feel for me, that he was not insensible to my suffering, and that he cared. I don't know exactly how this shift took place, but the idea of eye contact and the development of an attachment makes good sense. Slowly, I began to trust his honesty, his caring, and his integrity. I spmetimes continue to be afraid when I go to see him, but my fear was more one of what the session would reveal than of any judgement from him.

The fear of life that sent me there has slowly abated. The fits of howling desapir where I wept and writhed in self-loathing have not bothered me for over a year. I am not nearly as reactive as I used to be as I understand better that my behavior often affects the reaction people have to me, and that the reaction people have to me often had nothing whatsoever to do with me. No, I am not contradicting myself!

All of my relationships are better.

It used to make me angry when I'd see my T's eyes redden when I was telling him something painful, and that touched him. It felt like he was too delicate to handle the hard parts. That feeling has passed.

I do wonder if I have to be nice. I want to yell at him sometimes still, something I have never done. I want to rail and howl at him, esp now that I am at the end of therapy. I was to throw great heaving tantrums a la 2 year old. (I stand in awe of those kids thrashing on the grocery store floor. What expression! What release! I envy them!)

Hope this means something to someone around here.





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