Countdown To Therapy- Nervous!

[angel2write]

I need to find that same level of your courage and I really need to do the same thing. I know that that horrible can of worms will be opened and I know I will regress. that is the bit I am not wanting to do.

Yeah, it's not easy. It's like saying, you know all that garbage I've been stuffing down and trying not to think about or talk about or dream about and I've been medicating and ignoring as hard as I can... let's talk about that. Fun! (Not.)

I don't know if I'd have been able to do it if my husband hadn't said that he didn't think I could. Nothing like a dare to make me feel stubborn and contrary. (can you say "control issues?!?") Now I feel like I've gotten on a roller coaster and maybe if I can just hang on I'll make it to the end of the ride.

Hope you find your courage and the worms turn out to be not as bad as expected.

 

[angel2write]

I'm so very proud of you. I know that feeling of just saying the words "sexual abuse," and it's definately not a good one.

That's the truth!

 

[angel2write]

OK, It's 1 a.m., which means I've only got to get through 37 more hours.

The lady-therapist-person actually emailed me, and I emailed her, and she emailed me again. It wasn't exactly warm and fuzzy, but she was at least willing to humor my request and she answered some of my questions. So that was good. I feel less nervous.

I've been keeping myself busy by making a binder to take with me. It has a copy of the traumas I've written down so far, including one I haven't posted here, and a list of my goals, and some of the research I've been doing. Copies of a couple of Anthony's articles. Stuff. It has different colored tabs and a pencil holder with four new smooth-writing gel ink pens (black.) I stuck pictures of my honey and our four rascals in the front and back cover. It makes me smile to see their smiles.

I have been trying to decide whether or not to take one of my stuffed animals. I started taking stuffed animals with my third therapist. Gave me something to hold, to fiddle with when avoiding eye contact, to squeeze when threatened, and to cuddle when sad. But I'm not sure of the protocol here. Is lugging in a stuffed animal the size of a toddler, my purse (full of necessary emergency equipment) and my big knitting tote with my sweater-in-progress and my newly-created trauma binder OK on a first appointment? I'm going to look like a bag lady from New York, complete with scruffy black clothing and bad hair.

I'm as worried about this as a girl on a first date. I keep looking in the mirror and wondering if I look to old to cry in front of someone. Actresses are only allowed to cry on TV if they're young and good looking. Older people, like myself, with sagging chin lines and chunky thighs are always made to look ridiculous when they cry. I don't want to look ridiculous. Then there's the make-up vs. clean face argument. Definitely no mascara. It's bad enough looking drippy without looking like a raccoon while you're doing it.

Maybe I'll pretend I'm doing a job interview. Check all her credentials. Check the spelling on her credentials. Wear a pair of reading glasses so I can lower them and look at her suspiciously. Yeah... that would make her think I was normal.

 

[Powder]

Is it still going well with this T? Hope so. Sometimes they seem cold, but this is just their defenses so that they can take hearing our stuff, day after day. How do they do it???? I would collapse after one day, having picked up so much of "other people's stuff." I'm sort of like empathic, but not really, just enough to want to run from this job description. :O_o:
In other cases, they really could be cold. What is this case?

 

[ktmarie71]

I hope things are working out. I thought it might be helpful to say that my experience is that when it is working I usually get very angry and then later I see the logic in what was said.
I have to make myself go even when I think it is complete crap. It is ok to want to run like hell. You can even say it out loud in session if you want to. Keep up the good work.