My new therapist is good. He specialises in short-term intervention, meaning I will only see him for 12 sessions.
He is really good. Painfully good.
Yesterday was session four and I’ve barely been able to function since.
I don’t know how he does what he does, but I started those 50 minutes wondering what the hell was wrong with me that I can’t seem to connect with my feelings, and by the time we were done I was a total mess.
I felt all right. Holy shit did I feel.
So it will take a bit of a stretch of the imagination, but imagine the above artistic masterpiece is actually my stomach. What he did was punch a gigantic hole in it, and pulled out an infected splinter that felt more like a log.
More accurately, he somehow managed to enable me to summon feelings I had buried for 16 years, and others I didn’t even know I had.
I’m not a masochist or anything but I’m glad I’ve been knocked for six. It’s about bloody time.
The festering, infected, drowned-in-vodka-and-left-to-rot log of feelings comes with accessories such as…well, other feelings.
THE FLOODGATES HAVE OPENED!
I wanted this, but holy shit I didn’t expect it to hurt so much.
So, I’m tired. Like, I had a nap today and I don’t nap ever…that kind of tired. I am drained and the infection is draining out of me.
I know that this post doesn’t scream positivity and light and a lot of the stuff most people would prefer to see/read in recovery but I’m just being honest.
Anyone who thinks recovery is all unicorns and rainbows, or that it should be, is probably still deeply in denial about something.
This is my journey and it has a rotting feeling log. But it’s my log and it’s been located. Perhaps not fully extracted, but it’s not buried any longer and if that isn’t something to be grateful for then I don’t know what is.
Perspective: before giving birth to a bundle of joy, moms basically have to endure the searing pain of their vaginas being ripped apart. Does that work as an analogy? Have I chased away the men?
How about this one: if a bone is badly broken, doctors have to set it before it can heal. Ever have a bone set? Yeah, me neither. But it looks bloody awful. But not setting it would mean a lifetime of pain. I think. it wouldn’t heal properly, anyway.
Ok, well I did say I’ve been wiped out from yesterday…I just wanted to try and cleverly convey that I’m glad I’ve arrived at the “this fucking hurts” bit because I assume it’s a necessary pain before unbelievable joy.