That title is an arghhhhhh of pure frustration. I decided I was taking a break from Therapist. I wasn't exactly over the moon with joy about the decision, but it seemed like the right one. Protect myself against further dependence on her, and then I won't have to deal with the fallout when she's not there. Makes sense, right? Well, only kind of. I came across an article this morning, you know, the kind of ones I've quoted before that make me catch my breath they're so searingly close to the bone. This one was no different. Here's the bit that got me:
'The most difficult aspect of Being Borderline is intimate relationships and that includes the special relationship we have with our therapists. After nearly twenty years of (on and off and when needed) therapy, a certain familiarity happens and feelings, not always positive, can occur. I will be honest here and I find that envy of my therapist and her happiness can threaten my internal security. Because I know less about her than she does about me, I tend to fill in the blanks with “stories” of how perfect her life is.'*
Bugger. Yet again, the fact of having bpd was hammered home to me, and I mean, hammered. Her 'perfect' life is a relatively frequent topic of conversation during sessions, in so far as I push to know more than I should, then imagine a perfectly serene and balanced existence for her to which I compare myself, and then on the off chance that I do find something out, I don't want to know, because if she's any less than perfect, then I can't tell her about all my crazy. For fuck sake!!!!!!! Hence the arghhh, or at least the first part of it.
Second part comes from my own ridiculous predictability
. When I texted her to let her know I was taking a break, I told her I'd be in touch in the New Year, and I promised myself there was no way I was going back on that. I even (naively, let's be honest) hoped I might take a break for a but longer. Borderline me would be desperate for any kind of contact, she knows that, and I wasn't going to give in. Yet after reading the above, there was a sense of relief in realising that I'm not the only one who thinks like this, and I decided prolonging the break was doing nothing more than cutting off my nose to spite my face. So I contacted her, and have an appointment scheduled for after Christmas. But now? Now I actually feel sick with disgust because I feel like I've let myself down. I behaved exactly
as she predicted I would. I backed off, got angry, left myself without the security of a further session, promised myself that there was no way I'd contact her this side of January, and lo and behold, I did. Bugger. Maybe I should cancel...............Kidding. I think...........
Labels: behaviour, borderline personality disorder, connection, therapist