Posted by: Marie | January 14, 2012

(620) Pushing boundaries – Part 1 of 4

Post #620
[Private journal entry written on Thursday, May 12, 2011]

Today was therapy session day . . .

As usual, Edward met me downstairs in the lobby and walked with me back up the stairs. He stopped in the restroom while I got settled in his office. When he came into his office and settled in his chair, I was quick to thank him for remembering I wanted to move this session up a week . . .


Edward: I’m glad I was able to do it! It worked out well. I know the spacing between sessions is important to you.

Me: Yes, it is. I like having about the same number of days between them so I have time to process what we covered in the last session.

Edward: I’m glad it worked out.

It is good to see you today . . . how are you?

Me: I’ve been doing okay . . . mostly, I’ve been processing the memories that were brought up in the last session. I find myself repeatedly shocked at how controlling my dad was . . . how he controlled even how I responded to him and to being hit . . . my survival depended upon my total submission.

Edward: If I remember correctly, in your email, you stated he controlled you on many levels – that he required you to keep your head and your eyes down because, to him, steady eye contact indicated defiance . . . and he would require that you cry when he hit you, but if you cried too long, he would hit you again for that . . .

Me: Yeah . . . I had forgotten how complete his control was over me . . . it was shocking to my system to remember.

Anyway, this week I’m feeling emotionally sensitive . . . emotionally open . . . not raw or painful, just emotionally aware and even somewhat emotionally available . . .

Edward: Tell me more . . . what is that like for you?

Photo by Martin Chen

Me: (With a smile in my voice) Well, I feel . . . for a lack of a better word . . “fuzzy” . . .

(We both laughed)

Me: What I mean by “fuzzy” is . . .well, soft, not hard . . . maybe a little bit feminine – not in a girly-girl way, but in a nurturing way.

I suppose my feeling more emotional was encouraged by some stuff that happened with my cat. (I told him the story of my cat’s medical drama.) I’m feeling more tender and appreciative of my cat now.

The vet doesn’t have any idea why he lost the inner lining of his small intestine . . . he doesn’t know what caused it and he can’t tell me how to make sure it doesn’t happen again. So, I guess it is up to fate to decide if it will happen again . . . and he might not survive the next time. I know his health is likely compromised . . . he was a runt and I suspect he is going to continue to have health issues. I have always sensed he won’t live a full life. So, I’ll just enjoy him for as long as I have him around.

He seems to have been traumatized by the ordeal and is far more clingy – he has always been clingy – he has always needed a lot of cuddling, but he is now even more clingy. I’m feeling protective of him – his drama has really affected me – knowing he might die has really torn me up emotionally.

Anyway, that’s one part of what has been happening in my life lately . . .

Another part is that, for the first time in a long time . . in “forever” really, my desire to live is a tad stronger than my desire to die. I guess I’m in a more neutral place with it . . . I’m ambivalent about whether I live or die . . and that is a better place than where I was a month or two ago, which is when I was wishing, on a daily basis, that I would die.

There have been a few nights where, as I’m falling asleep, I realize I didn’t eat ice cream and that I didn’t even think about eating ice cream. That’s a switch! And, when I’m feeling stressed or anxious, I find that I’m not thinking about wanting to die as much. Instead of always thinking, “This sucks and I wish I would just die so I don’t have to feel this bad anymore,” I find myself thinking, “Well, this too shall pass . . . tomorrow will be better . . just hang in there . . . “

It’s like I’m at a tipping point . . . I don’t want to get too excited about it . . I don’t want to say to myself, “This is a turning point in my journey and it’s all going to be downhill from here,” because the good feeling might not last. I’m not trying to be pessimistic; I just don’t want to get my hopes up. So, instead, I’ll just enjoy it for as long as it lasts and not place any expectations or hope on it continuing indefinitely.

Edward: Can you tell me how long is “forever”? I mean, for how many years have you been wanting to die?

Me: Well, I’ve wanted to die since I was about nine years old. I think I was happy before then . . . I remember being a happy, playful kid before that point . . . at least I didn’t think about wanting to die before then.

(I found myself wanting to talk more about that so he might help me figure out what happened when I was nine that caused me to fall into depression. But, the moment didn’t feel right, so I didn’t bring it up.)

[Continued in the next post . . . ]


  1. re feeling fuzzy – quite a parable

    • Oh how neat! What a fun parable . . . deep meaning! Thanks for sharing!

      – Marie

  2. It’s so nice when things get a little easier and therapy is actually helping you feel better.

    • Hi, Ellen –

      You know, after a lifetime of feeling so discouraged, it is shocking to feel better! It takes some getting used to!

      – Marie

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