So I've had four sessions with a therapist. It feels like 50, I'll tell you what - 2 of them were uneventful, the other 2 quite stressful. It's not always easy for me to allow someone else to dictate the terms of a conversation and it's definitely not easy when the surprise direction is down an unknown path that I didn't know existed, a path that can be painful. In some ways I feel like I did when I came into The Program when I was a man with all of the answers, a man who had no interest in any information that didn't neatly fit into my world view. The fact that my worldview was apocalyptic and dystopian (Ed Note: I really like these words so I jam them in whenever I can) didn't cause me to pause for a minute.
On two occasions I've made comments that caused this woman to pull up sharply. I think I tried to slip 'em in real quick-like, off-hand and unconcerned. This has led to an extended series of questions - flowing from her to me - signaling that I was no longer in control of the conversation, that it was heading in what appeared to be an alarming direction. I've got a smug sense of my own self-knowledge - I like to anticipate solutions whenever I can. I love saying: "Yeah, I've read about that" or, better yet, beating her to the punch with some insightful comment that shows I know what kind of insightful comment she's about to make. You can't tell me shit, in other words. Except when you can tell me shit.
The first time was when I mentioned that I was not too familiar with the concept of crying. The second was yesterday when I recounted a remark that SuperK made when we were discussing the general tone of one of my sessions - an alarming comment that indicated she had entertained the idea of leaving, and I mean leaving leaving, not leaving to take a walk or go to the bathroom. Part of the problem was that I mischaracterized the comment which was more along the lines of "maybe it would be better for you if I left" rather than "I'm thinking of going elsewhere." I have no doubt that my anxiety-infused persona has not been a breathe of fresh air in the Seaweed household for her. When you say good morning and the reply is: "I'm having a panic attack" it sets an unwelcome mood for the day.
This revelation did NOT cause any more anxiety in my life. Yeah. A couple of days before that I got a note from Google saying someone in Maysville, KY, tried to log onto my account using my actual password. That was a lovely, calming cup of tea as well.
Anyway, she and I hashed some of this stuff out in a halting, probing kind of way. Strong emotions always look better when they're out in the sunlight instead of percolating around in the slimy, dark mess of hyperactive, raging cortical matter that is the Great Curse of my life. The reality of a situation is almost always better than whatever apocalyptic, dystopian vision that I hallucinate up. I could sense a great lightening of her mood in the subsequent few days.
Through pain comes release.
"Someone who knew what he was talking about once remarked that pain was the touchstone of all spiritual progress."
That was me. That's my line. I came up with that one. I once knew what I was talking about.
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