Strange feelings and little perspective today. Woke up beating myself up. Was supposed to hear back about a job but haven't. Was afraid of that job, and now feel relieved and slighted. Woke up late and watched TV, didn't get anything done. I could've read in that time. Feeling down on myself on my way to therapy. Didn't start by explaining that. Started by talking about some things about love, the control I've begun to feel in my body and it sounded like nonsense. I could feel his criticism, his impatience. Rather than stand up for what I felt, have faith in myself, and believe whatever he's feeling is about him, not me, I crumbled. I lost faith in myself. I could feel that hollow feeling in my chest that feels like abandonment and hopelessness all rolled into one, and I didn't want to be there. I wanted to flee. I wondered what that would be like: if I threw a fit, stood up and left. Teenage rebellion. Individuation. I think part of me would be proud of emoting honestly. We would have something to talk about next session, and I'd feel a lot more control and power maybe. I'm in my 40's by the way.
Instead I told him what I was feeling, how I was shutting down and we "investigated" by doing some IFS but I didn't want to go into it and get to the homophobic part we got to last time. I was doubting myself completely now, and not trusting him. I went into it anyway and pushed myself even though I didn't want to. I was feeling indolent, and resistant - tired, judgmental, critical, but I saw a boy who felt like the world was falling apart around him and like he had no one to turn to, because the people he was supposed to trust to take care of him would only ridicule him further. I saw helplessness, confusion, a boy who doesn't want to be seen because being seen means being criticized and it means pain. It means torture. I saw a boy who doesn't want to get close to anyone, and a sadness I thought would never end.
I saw a kid who's not allowed to play because he has to be rigid and perfect in order to prevent criticism from happening. I saw how I internalized this and separated my needs from myself and banished them into oblivion. I saw that I became my caretakers (or some part of me did). I saw someone who's completely lost faith, and feels interminably alone. I see how this informs my other relationships - how I get anxiously attached, not wanting anyone to leave, and being unable to get close. I feel guilty now for getting anxious with my therapist and not being able to trust him. I feel like I failed. I feel like I talked around questions today, giving him just enough to make him happy until the time was up and I could get out of there.
And so I wonder if that's what was really going on...We talked about this 10 year old part who doesn't want to get close to people because of what he thinks closeness means. I saw someone or something who's afraid of approaching that sadness, and all his feelings because he feels like there's no help for him, and so he's learned to repress those needs, and sublimate them into sex (validation), some simulacrum of intimacy and love. I saw a boy who medicated with masturbation until he had sores on his penis because he had no other way of expressing his emotions, because he wasn't allowed to, because his parents had no tools, and couldn't deal with them, and so he learned not to have them, and became hollow inside. I saw that all those emotions are still there, waiting to be seen if I can learn to turn and look. And when I do I see it's not as scary as I think, and that it actually feels good to acknowledge those parts. It feels like something is returning to me, and I feel whole again. I don't feel whole right now though. I feel sorry for myself and sad. I feel like I can't let go. I feel the incapability that criticism instilled in me, rather than the support I could've gotten. And so it's no wonder I don't want to be in relationships with anyone, and why I can't stand being alone...I don't know what to do today. I feel sad. Maybe I can let myself feel it. Maybe I'll write some poetry around it. Maybe I don't have to do anything about it. I can just let it be there, and feel sad with it for a time, and let it know it's taken care of and that I hear it, and then maybe at some point I can do something nice for it, and see how that works.
I see how attached I am to this pain, and how it's like a security blanket for me. I'm afraid to let it go because I don't know who I am without it, even though it feels terrible, because, I think, if I'm helpless at least I can be taken care of, and that familiarity, even though it feels terrible, is somehow better than the unknown, and any criticism I might get while I'm out there. My parents wanted me to feel helpless so they could feel safe and secure, and now I'm still living out that pattern, but maybe now it's time to try something different, and remember I'm not alone in my efforts.
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