It’s been a long time. It’s been too long, really. I suppose that I just needed a proper break from things. Or, rather, I needed to use what little energy I could muster to deal with the bare essentials, hence largely withdrawing from the world, both online and in my day-to-day interactions with family and friends.
It has been, and still is, a very rough ride. Since the beginning of the year I have had three rounds of crisis team intervention and one admission to Drayton Park, all with that burning hopeless feeling that ‘It’s pointless, it won’t make a difference’. Except, from an external point of view it has; I am still here now. I might not have been.
Therapy is the one thing that I feel is actually going well. But, as is so often the case when it comes to therapy, ‘going well’ involves a decent sized chunk of dizzying pain. The therapeutic process has never been heralded as a ‘free from unwanted side effects’ type of medication..
I continue to build my relationship with P., doing this quirky little two-steps-forward-one-step-back dance, putting my most deep seated fears and trust issues through their paces. Progress is slow, but at least we are moving. Those of you who have been in therapy will know exactly what I am talking about; one session and – almost out of nowhere – you find the courage of a lioness and take a giant leap forward, right across the abyss – the next two sessions; withdrawing and giving in to age-old fears of being let down, needing to test and re-test your therapist, to check that they really are for real, that those encouraging words won’t turn out to just be empty promises.
My need for emotional hand-holding and reassurance has known no limits in these last months and weeks, and consequently P. has had to work darn hard for the pennies.. She tells me that she knew what she was signing up for when she decided to take me on, I argue that she can’t possibly have known – because she didn’t know me – she then agrees that this is true, but reassures me that she has a very strong sense of what she can cope with, and that I really really really am not too much for her. And we take another tiny step forward.
As I have said many times before, I don’t think therapy is meant to be easy, I think it’s meant to be worth it.
Right now we are standing at the door of a two week therapy break, so – predictably – all of Little S.’s abandonment fears are awakened and hyper aroused. Adult Me works hard to try to explain that it will be OK, that we have been through – and have survived – many, many breaks before, and that we will get through this one, too, but Little S. clamps her hands firmly over her little ears, certain that this is the end of the safety and pseudo-mothering we have enjoyed from P.
What it boils down to is that my inner child, just like any other child, has no real understanding of time, and so a separation from P. is not a temporary state, but is permanent and absolute. And, again like most children, when the caregiver goes away, she assumes that this must be because of something she has done. This, in turn, makes Little S., go back and forth between putting unrealistic pressure on herself to be ‘all good’ [because, if she is very very good, maybe P. won’t leave her] and needing to self-punish [because she must have been bad, to make P. go away]. Adult Me works very hard to try to help regulate the extremes, but parenting your own inner child is not an easy task, especially when so many of Little S.’s thought patterns and beliefs still live on in Adult Me.
I still have three sessions left before the commencement of this two-week-bordering-on-eternity break, so there is time to talk this through with P., time to get another shot of reassurance injected, and hopefully that will alleviate at least some of Little S.’s [and Adult Me’s] anxiety.
Anyway, take good care of your Selves, and thank you all so much for sticking with me through this hiatus, of sorts.
Good to see you back! And don’t worry about how long, too long or not long enough, life decides when we’re ready. Take good care now :)
I have been continually surprised (and moved) to discover that, even though I’ve not updated my blog in months, people are still coming back to it.
Take good care of your Self.
Of course. They are looking for you, and for themselves, through you.
Then perhaps the next step is to ask yourself (and the inner child) why people are still coming back to it? The answer might offer a reason to believe P will also return.
You are, of course, entirely right. And it is something I continue to work hard on both in and out of therapy; holding on to positive experiences, to help balance out the negative ones.
Take good care, and thanks for commenting.
That is such a sweet comment, I genuinely don’t quite know how to respond. But, THANK YOU.
So pleased to see your update. Not pleased that it’s been a tough time, but pleased that you’ve mustered the energy. The therapy break is a unique kind of agony; sometimes for me it can be just the weekend between Friday session and Monday session that seems like an eternity so when the holidays come…. it’s tough. I hope Little S and Adult You manage. xxx
Thanks for your comment. I really do appreciate it.
I, too, find weekends difficult sometimes, but I guess the difference is that I can stay in contact with P. via emails and texts [which she will reply to] over the weekend. This isn’t really an option during “proper” breaks. I do write letters and post to her, though – and that helps, even if it’s not quite the same as sending off an email or a text, as letters are [in the context of our relationship] a one-way communication.
Anyway, thank you once again for reading and commenting.
Be kind to your Self,
I was really pleased to see you back here, and pleased to hear that therapy is going quite well, even if the break must be (or must have been?) painful and difficult.
I have just started therapy myself and it is encouraging, inspiring to read of your tenacity and courage. Thank you.
Thanks for your comment. I do appreciate it. Was meaning to post an update this week, but haven’t got round to it, but – fingers crossed – I’ll get it done next week.