The beads in my brain....

Therapy went well. I feel strange saying that. I'm starting to come to the realization and acceptance that a "good therapy session" typically means I sat and cried for an hour, as opposed to sitting in silence while someone tries to drag information out of me. The deeper I get into this therapy the more I'm starting to see how wrong B (my old therapist) was for me. I actually find myself to be a little angry at her. 

This week started with the usual breathing exercise, which I really enjoy because it helps me calm down just a little bit. I do really well throughout the week, minus those 15 minutes waiting in the car or the waiting room for therapy. Then I start to have my little panic attack. Anyways, therapy started out with me being really frustrated at myself for being so uncomfortable after a month and a half of weekly appointments. We talked about that and how I expect myself to come in a certain way (more confident, cool, collected) not because I want to impress her...which was most certainly where a lot of the nerves came from with B....but to get the stuff in my head worked out so I can be a loving partner in my relationship with Sondra. So, I don't even know how it started but I was suddenly crying. "A" will usually have me close my eyes and "sit with the feeling" and recognize how it sits in my body. That made me cry a little more because I just hear buzzing, and everything gets fuzzy and noisy and confusing. After I opened my eyes and tried to explain what I was feeling I got all embarrassed because I was starting to lose what we were talking about. My stomach felt hard as a rock and it was hard to breathe through the exercise. She had me draw this "rock" out so she could see it. And asked me about what it felt like. I was trying to explain the energy that is contained in this seemingly solid mass and I started to explain something that happens in my head. I have these metal beads in my head. On good days there are two, slow moving, happy silver beads. Then stuff happens, I get nervous, I feel bad, guilty, angry...and those beads speed up. They start to ricochet off one another and produce more beads with each collision. Pretty soon there are so many beads that there is no room to move and they start to meld together into this thick, heavy mass. That's what my stomach felt like. 

At the end of this explanation I started to cry again. I get so afraid that I sound crazy. That people don't understand. When I told her this, she said "here, let me tell you what I'm understanding from what you're saying"...and....she got it. She said "I can understand why it would be difficult to remember things with all of this going on" It's probably the first time in therapy EVER that I felt like...okay, this might be helpful. Feeling understood felt incredibly umm words...words...lifting? No, I don't know...it just made me feel a little stronger. Like...okay self, you can do this because SOMEONE is listening and trying to understand AND (big plus) actually seems like she is getting it for real. 

Blah....all that being said...I still HATE crying. I find myself doing it a lot these days. Sondra says I'm learning to "regulate my emotions" in a safe space so crying is becoming less scary and therefore, I'm more willing to do it. I do feel myself fighting it a lot less...and, I begrudgingly say this, I am starting to feel better after crying. Which is also new. 

Therapy side note: I hate the end of session when I have to pay. I don't have insurance so I pay in cash. This week "A" was talking to me as I was getting the money out and then once I handed it to her, kept talking. I went into complete "awkward freak" mode because I can't tell when I'm suppose to leave so I pretty much bolt out of there, mumbling answers because I'm afraid I'll get caught up in the talking and won't read the cues to leave! Gah I'm such a weirdo.