In the Moments After Therapy

Intense therapy session. Intense feelings. Intensity driving me crazy, sparks in the attic smoldering and threatening….not grounded so that the electrical fire in my brain is overriding the switch, there’s no dimmer function and turning it off doesn’t really turn it off it just makes me unaware of the fires burning out of control up there amid the insulation and rafters oh my god what just happened?

After talking about the personal nature of the Chain of Events and how we’re going to discuss it during our next therapy session, and after which Craig suggested I not write it all down, that we should instead verbally discuss it, I made a comment. I said “you’re the savior” with a shrug in my voice and a smirk on my face, but with the intention of pushing a button. That ended the session. It was abrupt. Could be that we had gone over time, or it could be he didn’t like the comment. I wouldn’t like the comment. So I’m busy freaking out about that, with possible reactions that include cutting off my arm or blowing off my head. It’s a nifty way to avoid the terror of having to discuss the Chain of Events next session.

Luke asked me what I was so busy ruminating about. I told him. He responded with a couple of things: “You’re really good at finding a comment that will push buttons.” And “why are you spending your energy worrying about ruining your relationship with your therapist? Either it pushed a button or it didn’t, but either way you didn’t ruin your relationship and Monday is still going to come and you’ll still talk about it. He’ll move on. You should too.”

So I took half a seroquel. Pharmacological dimmer switch.

I explained to Luke, “right now it’s intense enough that I could really hurt myself. I mean, it’s a very real option. And it’s an option because then I could end up in the hospital and the statement made by my actions is that I’m not ready to talk about the Chain of Events and then we won’t. Focusing on whether or not I said something that Craig didn’t like is an effective distraction from thinking about our next session. Hurting myself would be an effective statement that I am unable to deal with talking about the Chain of Events. Or I could just hang on and talk about the Chain of Events at the next session. Or I could get lost in a never ending loop trying to figure out if I’m having a transference experience/if I pissed off Craig/if I’m sabotaging my therapy/if I legitimately can’t cope with those feelings related to the Chain of Events/and on and on and on.”

Luke had such a serious look on his face. He said “Didn’t you learn during this last hospitalization that you won’t die from talking about your feelings? That no one has died from feeling their feelings? That people die from NOT feeling their feelings? So it’s going to happen on Monday, or the next session after that or the next session after that. You said you want to get better, so there is only moving forward.”

I started crying then, because he’s right. But what to do with the panic? The terror? The shame? God, the shame is intense right now, coloring everything in my world. I needed to protect myself from the overwhelming fear all tied up in whether or not I pissed off my therapist and talking about the Chain of Events. I saw myself standing on the edge of the cliff, waving my gun around at the cops, and Craig telling me to put the gun down. I looked good and hard at that gun, pissed off at Craig and pissed off at me and pissed off at Luke and tried to think of what I could put in my hands in place of the gun. I saw the travel trunk, I think they called them steamer trunks. If the System is going to avoid a flame-out right now this very afternoon, then the overwhelming feelings have to go into the steamer trunk.