Hey Tornado hunters!
Cranked this back to life because the post won't sit well in the parallel universe. So I've come back over to the dark side
Just had a weird hour with the counsellor. I don't think I handled things well.
I ricocheted from one subject to another and bless her, she got to the bottom of it all, then I ricocheted (ricocheted is a bit like crocheted when it comes to spelling. That makes the sentence sound much better -think I'll go with it)..then I crocheted all over again! 
Being very far up the shitty stick of poverty has prompted me to do something I have been thinking about for a while - reducing my psychotherapy sessions from 2 to 1 a week.
I had been using P as a bit of a sounding board as much as anything else but recently realised that people who are a one half of a couple do that over the dishes, or in the car or by throwing bags of crinkle cut carrots at each other in the frozen aisle of Morrisons.
So, if I could find some way to get rid of all the shit that comes with daily life and focus more confidently on moving my self forward with my life, it would suit me and my bank balance and would help me to optimise my week.
Unfortunately, although I had a sense of that when I went in and began asking for it very clearly, I soon descended into frustration, more crocheting and -of all things - a meeting between myself, my Guidance teacher and my Dad, 32 years ago.
Then apparently, I started wiggling my foot quite ferociously and I made several origami river- based wildfowl out of tear soaked tissues.
Then I pulled myself together at the end of the session to say I was going down to once a week as I paid and left.
It all feels rather unsatisfactory. It's as though I quickly pulled a plaster off a wound that I thought had healed, but it took a bit of skin with it. I feel that I've somehow let P down. It's as though I didn't handle it well, I didn't give myself enough time to get used to it and that this constitutes a psychotherapeutic FAIL!
Have I let myself down?
I've missed something. I know it. I can feel it.
If I can feel it, then that's progress. What have I missed?
Well, I know it isn't P that I need to feel bad bad about -she's a big girl, it's her job. She doesn't judge or take things personally, so it's me that I haven't been true to.
I just wanted to say my bit and leave.
Why was that?
Because I felt guilty saying that I had made progress? That she had helped me to the place in my life where I could go to the next level? That's a compliment.
Why do I always imagine that whatever I say, good or bad, impacts negatively on others?
Life generally, isn't all about me -but my life is and my sessions with P are, by necessity.
It's where I am learning to ask for what I want - to get right to the heart of it and not to skirt around it.
That's what I am going to work on, to practise getting right to the heart of what I want, for my own sake and no-one else's.
Ha!
I wanted to say it and leave because I found it difficult to hear.
I will find it hard even though I know it has to be done, that I want it to be done. I am like a child making those first painful first steps of independence from its parent.
P has been so instrumental these last 3 years that it sounds ungrateful.
I am scared to change the formula but it is what I need. It is what I need to do.
I have cried now, P.
I have found the figure.
Cranked this back to life because the post won't sit well in the parallel universe. So I've come back over to the dark side
Just had a weird hour with the counsellor. I don't think I handled things well.
I ricocheted from one subject to another and bless her, she got to the bottom of it all,
Being very far up the shitty stick of poverty has prompted me to do something I have been thinking about for a while - reducing my psychotherapy sessions from 2 to 1 a week.
I had been using P as a bit of a sounding board as much as anything else but recently realised that people who are a one half of a couple do that over the dishes, or in the car or by throwing bags of crinkle cut carrots at each other in the frozen aisle of Morrisons.
So, if I could find some way to get rid of all the shit that comes with daily life and focus more confidently on moving my self forward with my life, it would suit me and my bank balance and would help me to optimise my week.
Unfortunately, although I had a sense of that when I went in and began asking for it very clearly, I soon descended into frustration, more crocheting and -of all things - a meeting between myself, my Guidance teacher and my Dad, 32 years ago.
Then apparently, I started wiggling my foot quite ferociously and I made several origami river- based wildfowl out of tear soaked tissues.
Then I pulled myself together at the end of the session to say I was going down to once a week as I paid and left.
It all feels rather unsatisfactory. It's as though I quickly pulled a plaster off a wound that I thought had healed, but it took a bit of skin with it. I feel that I've somehow let P down. It's as though I didn't handle it well, I didn't give myself enough time to get used to it and that this constitutes a psychotherapeutic FAIL!
Have I let myself down?
I've missed something. I know it. I can feel it.
If I can feel it, then that's progress. What have I missed?
Well, I know it isn't P that I need to feel bad bad about -she's a big girl, it's her job. She doesn't judge or take things personally, so it's me that I haven't been true to.
I just wanted to say my bit and leave.
Why was that?
Because I felt guilty saying that I had made progress? That she had helped me to the place in my life where I could go to the next level? That's a compliment.
Why do I always imagine that whatever I say, good or bad, impacts negatively on others?
Life generally, isn't all about me -but my life is and my sessions with P are, by necessity.
It's where I am learning to ask for what I want - to get right to the heart of it and not to skirt around it.
That's what I am going to work on, to practise getting right to the heart of what I want, for my own sake and no-one else's.
Ha!
I wanted to say it and leave because I found it difficult to hear.
I will find it hard even though I know it has to be done, that I want it to be done. I am like a child making those first painful first steps of independence from its parent.
P has been so instrumental these last 3 years that it sounds ungrateful.
I am scared to change the formula but it is what I need. It is what I need to do.
I have cried now, P.
I have found the figure.
