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Re: Transference Sucks

Posted by Susan47 on June 11, 2005, at 15:57:29

In reply to Transference Sucks, posted by Susan47 on June 11, 2005, at 15:00:32

Not every man is inwardly hostile to me. They don't all want to love/destroy me.
I need a therapist, don't I?
A woman, right? Someone who doesn't automatically have it in for me. A woman who could care less that I'm another woman, the potential Other. Someone who has a better than fair chance of helping me. So I need to do that. I’ll be having to get back into therapy again. I’ll need to commit, seriously, to being the person I want to be, because I spout babble about being mature, loving, and open. When many times, in fact, with my therapist, a male, I was hostile, angry, withdrawn, and judgemental. I didn’t want to be that. I called myself a “cobra”, once, that he was seeing me as this poisonous snake. My sub-conscious is telling me that that is how I think of myself and men, and there may be some truth to that, which was unacceptable to me for a long, long time. To feel the depth of my hostility hurt so much.
Last night, I Spewed into my last therapist’s answering machine. I called at least a dozen times, and I cried, and I raged, and I just sat and listened, sometimes just saying enough stream of consciousness garbage to keep the machine going. Crap that I knew sounded stupid, and childish, and immature. I wanted not to care that I was being so selfish, and sounding crass and crazy, stupid and immature .. But it bothers me somewhat to say that I did care, and I do care, what he thinks about me. I cared from first sight of him, and that bothers me very much. My vision of him was out of context from the first, and I knew that. And I played into it from the start, from the first visit, I became malicious almost immediately. In my mind only, though, and that would be my subconscious, but peeking through to the surface now and again. I became verbally violent, on the telephone, to his machine, his answering machine, I said things that were Not Nice. And I made sure, somewhere before I started that, that I was being vulnerable. That he was seeing me as a vulnerable person. Not just a person, but, specifically, female. Not even woman, really. Just vulnerable femininity. I enjoyed the feeling, I rolled in it like a pig in mud. Then, I think I created the reality. I made myself feel as if my life depended on his goodwill.




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