DogwoodTree
Platinum Member
First, I'm not actively suicidal or self-harming or anything. But I had a bit of a revelation in therapy today, and it's kind of unexpected? I guess I'm wondering if this makes sense to anyone, or any thoughts on how to shift this.
My T started EMDR with me a couple of months ago--I'm only seeing him monthly right now because he raised his rates and I'm self-pay and can't afford more frequent sessions. Anyway, for three sessions now, he's focused heavily on developing a sense of compassion for the kid I was when my parents and then my step-dad treated me so badly, and then when I struggled so much socially, especially in school. I hate that kid I was, how ignorant and naive I was, how dependent and awkward and weird and weak. I totally get that's not so unusual for a child, and I understand I did the best I could in impossible situations. But I have no soft feelings of affection or compassion towards that person I was. I'm autistic, so all my life (I'm 46) I've experienced delayed development in the area of understanding interpersonal relations. Even before I knew I was autistic (late-diagnosed), I knew I was weird and didn't fit and slow to figure out how the social world worked, even though I was gifted academically. Ever since I was tiny, I observed my progress over time to ensure I was always improving and becoming more aware and more skilled at handling social interactions. So there's this intense drive to leave that old, less capable self behind each progressive year and always be moving forward, learning more, doing better.
Today we had a long conversation about self-compassion, and trying to develop a sense of compassion toward my younger self to help break through the shame so we can work on the trauma stuff in EMDR. He's trying to help me see my inherent value as a child, as a human being. But through the course of the conversation, I explained that valuing my existence means having to value the misery I experience nearly every day from feeling so isolated inside from the combined effects of trauma and autism. He asked if I could just have a small amount of compassion for the impossibility I faced as a child. And while I can acknowledge that the challenges I experienced placed impossible demands on me, my logical conclusion is that the most compassionate thing I could do for that child, if this were possible, is to go back in time and convince my mom to abort me. Self-compassion, to me, is acknowledging the misery of my internal existence (even now that I've been able to resolve many of the external stressors from my emotionally abusive FOO) and, if this were scientifically possible, preventing my progression to the point where I have a husband and kids who rely on me. In my mind, self-compassion would lead to suicide, self-euthanasia, a self-mercy-killing.
I don't think that's at all where my T expected that conversation to go. He said he's going to rethink his approach and not pursue that avenue of developing self-compassion in order to break the shame. In a way, that's a discouraging acknowledgement of the hopelessness and frustration I continue to face in trying to resolve these issues from the years of trauma. But I understand his reasoning, I guess, in recognizing that I don't experience life as a gift but as a burden, a series of obligations to other people. And an offering of self-care would be to eliminate the misery for myself. While I totally understand that would create tragically increased misery for my husband and kids, and I don't intend to carry this out, there's a driving desire for escape.
Does this make sense to anyone, or are my thoughts just so distorted that this is all really bizarre? How can I reframe self-compassion to include continuing my life for my own sake, not just for the sake of others?
All that said, I do experience joy in my work, and in my contributions to my husband and kids. I'm doing "all the things" you're supposed to do to take good care of yourself: eating well, sleeping as well as I can manage, exercise, hobbies, rest time, etc. I just don't find enough joy in all that to counter-balance the misery of feeling so alone inside. My T and I have discussed that topic at length, how to help me not feel so alone inside, and nothing works. He can give me the kindest, gentlest, most caring responses to the pain and struggles I share in my sessions, and they're just empty words. Nothing gets in. No matter how hard I try to receive it, even with my husband and kids, the love expressed to me just feels surface-level and never even begins to touch the deep darkness and pain inside. I'm not adequately explaining it here. And my T didn't believe at first what I was describing. But now he's seen times when we both acknowledge the compassion and empathy he's offering are done sincerely and healthily, and yet, it has no effect on the inside for me. Nothing. It's like his words are just static. We've been at this for years now and not been able to crack open that barrier. He talked today about bringing some of my unmet emotional needs from childhood into relationships so they can at least be partially met, but I've been trying for several years now, and nothing works. It only feels more and more hopeless and alone and painful. The pain is so intense and overwhelming that I decided several months ago to stop trying to bring those needs out, to stop looking for emotional connection, to accept surface-level interactions with people and try to fake it well enough that others won't notice. Most of the time, that's manageable. I'm getting better at it. But when the internal barriers fail, the pain inside is intense and intolerable. But we've not found any solutions other than basic pain management strategies.
I don't know if any of this makes sense. I've not yet developed adequate language to describe the internal experience, and can't find literature online discussing it accurately. It sounds like it shouldn't be that big of a problem, when I just read over what I've written. But the experience is excruciating, to the point my thoughts consistently turn to suicide to try to relieve the pain.
My T started EMDR with me a couple of months ago--I'm only seeing him monthly right now because he raised his rates and I'm self-pay and can't afford more frequent sessions. Anyway, for three sessions now, he's focused heavily on developing a sense of compassion for the kid I was when my parents and then my step-dad treated me so badly, and then when I struggled so much socially, especially in school. I hate that kid I was, how ignorant and naive I was, how dependent and awkward and weird and weak. I totally get that's not so unusual for a child, and I understand I did the best I could in impossible situations. But I have no soft feelings of affection or compassion towards that person I was. I'm autistic, so all my life (I'm 46) I've experienced delayed development in the area of understanding interpersonal relations. Even before I knew I was autistic (late-diagnosed), I knew I was weird and didn't fit and slow to figure out how the social world worked, even though I was gifted academically. Ever since I was tiny, I observed my progress over time to ensure I was always improving and becoming more aware and more skilled at handling social interactions. So there's this intense drive to leave that old, less capable self behind each progressive year and always be moving forward, learning more, doing better.
Today we had a long conversation about self-compassion, and trying to develop a sense of compassion toward my younger self to help break through the shame so we can work on the trauma stuff in EMDR. He's trying to help me see my inherent value as a child, as a human being. But through the course of the conversation, I explained that valuing my existence means having to value the misery I experience nearly every day from feeling so isolated inside from the combined effects of trauma and autism. He asked if I could just have a small amount of compassion for the impossibility I faced as a child. And while I can acknowledge that the challenges I experienced placed impossible demands on me, my logical conclusion is that the most compassionate thing I could do for that child, if this were possible, is to go back in time and convince my mom to abort me. Self-compassion, to me, is acknowledging the misery of my internal existence (even now that I've been able to resolve many of the external stressors from my emotionally abusive FOO) and, if this were scientifically possible, preventing my progression to the point where I have a husband and kids who rely on me. In my mind, self-compassion would lead to suicide, self-euthanasia, a self-mercy-killing.
I don't think that's at all where my T expected that conversation to go. He said he's going to rethink his approach and not pursue that avenue of developing self-compassion in order to break the shame. In a way, that's a discouraging acknowledgement of the hopelessness and frustration I continue to face in trying to resolve these issues from the years of trauma. But I understand his reasoning, I guess, in recognizing that I don't experience life as a gift but as a burden, a series of obligations to other people. And an offering of self-care would be to eliminate the misery for myself. While I totally understand that would create tragically increased misery for my husband and kids, and I don't intend to carry this out, there's a driving desire for escape.
Does this make sense to anyone, or are my thoughts just so distorted that this is all really bizarre? How can I reframe self-compassion to include continuing my life for my own sake, not just for the sake of others?
All that said, I do experience joy in my work, and in my contributions to my husband and kids. I'm doing "all the things" you're supposed to do to take good care of yourself: eating well, sleeping as well as I can manage, exercise, hobbies, rest time, etc. I just don't find enough joy in all that to counter-balance the misery of feeling so alone inside. My T and I have discussed that topic at length, how to help me not feel so alone inside, and nothing works. He can give me the kindest, gentlest, most caring responses to the pain and struggles I share in my sessions, and they're just empty words. Nothing gets in. No matter how hard I try to receive it, even with my husband and kids, the love expressed to me just feels surface-level and never even begins to touch the deep darkness and pain inside. I'm not adequately explaining it here. And my T didn't believe at first what I was describing. But now he's seen times when we both acknowledge the compassion and empathy he's offering are done sincerely and healthily, and yet, it has no effect on the inside for me. Nothing. It's like his words are just static. We've been at this for years now and not been able to crack open that barrier. He talked today about bringing some of my unmet emotional needs from childhood into relationships so they can at least be partially met, but I've been trying for several years now, and nothing works. It only feels more and more hopeless and alone and painful. The pain is so intense and overwhelming that I decided several months ago to stop trying to bring those needs out, to stop looking for emotional connection, to accept surface-level interactions with people and try to fake it well enough that others won't notice. Most of the time, that's manageable. I'm getting better at it. But when the internal barriers fail, the pain inside is intense and intolerable. But we've not found any solutions other than basic pain management strategies.
I don't know if any of this makes sense. I've not yet developed adequate language to describe the internal experience, and can't find literature online discussing it accurately. It sounds like it shouldn't be that big of a problem, when I just read over what I've written. But the experience is excruciating, to the point my thoughts consistently turn to suicide to try to relieve the pain.