Well, I finally did it. I cut the cord and discontinued therapy. The relationship was waaayy too complicated for me and as much as I liked him, it wasn't helping anymore. At my last sesssion, as I cried like a baby, he told me that he had put more of himself into our relationship than he had with any of his other patients (and he mentioned something about it almost being unprofessional or something to that affect) and he had learned a lot about himself (?) and that I was one of his most challenging, therefore most rewarding patients. I told him that I had never considered out "relationship" as anything more as a service provider/customer relationship even though I did like him. He said that was good. But now, I am obsessively going over every session we had that I can remember. I ask myself why he felt it was necessary to "put more of himself into our relationship." What that an oops, did he find himself attracted to me? Was he lonely? Am I just so darn charming? I mean, this guy is not a young man, he's nearly 50 if not in his 50s, I can't believe he hasn't learned to detach from his patients by now. Ugghh! What a mess. I know I need to continue with therapy, and I had intended to return afte a while, but to someone different, but now I am afraid to. I'm very confused about all of this. Maybe it was all nothing and he said that to to all of his patients (I hope not b/c then I'll be pissed off b/c I'll feel like I was played.) I can't even begin to count the times I wished I had never gone back to see him, but my other counselor stopped seeing private patients. This guy was my therapist back when I was working for The Dragon (old boss, breathed fire) and everything was fine then but after I stopped going and my MD "highly recommended" I return, I said I wanted to see a female therapist or counselor. After 13 sessions with her, I stopped going to see her. I thought I was doing okay without counseling until an incident at my daughter's daycare where the husband of the provider was accused of taking pictures of my daughter. I didn't know what to do but I wanted the incident documents so I tried to get back in to see my female counselor only to find out she wasn't seeing patients anymore so, in a pinch, I asked for this guy. He agreed to see me. I knew I was using him b/c I only intended the one session and while I know that is wrong, I never realized how personally he would take it. He was so cold to me during that session, even going so far as to tell me he didn't think he could help me, but rather that I need to be put in-patient! I was hysterical by the time I left, but after a lot of thought, I decided to continue with therapy and I would continue it with him. And so began our saga. The first several sessions were tense and I made no secret of how I disliked coming session but that I had made a commitment and I intended to see it through. Then, during one session, he "adjusted" himself (down there). I was so embarassed. It happened again in another session, and then again, but this time he noticed my discomfort. Nothing was said, but it never happened again. We continued working with the interpersonal approach. I, personally, set some goals to work on, one of which was being comfortable talking to men in general and another was working on eye  contact during difficult conversation. One session, I made a point to keep eye contact and apparently so did he b/c I ended up having to deliberately close my eyes to get him to blink and look away. At the time I laughed to myself about it. As the sessions went on, he tossed around ideas for different "diagnosis" (see previous blogs) but finally settled on OCD and chronic and acute depression. He then told me I was very hard to peg down b/c I wasn't consistently one thing. In one session, after talking in circles, I admited that I often felt like such a failure. He responded, "I'd love to help you with that." His words were so simple and his voice was so tender that I nearly broke down right there. For the first time in like, ever, I truly believed that I could talk to someone and that they would listen and that they could help me. It was the most amazing feeling and it filled me with such contentment for several days. My next session was weeks away, but I was so looking foward to it. But the next session was different. He shared that he has reconciled with his ex-wife (I am guessing while on vacation a few weeks earlier) and I'm pretty sure he got laid, too, b/c of a comment he said about "hitting a man where it hurts, but don't withhold sex" it's just an assumption, but I'm pretty sure I'm right. What ever intimacy that was apparent in our previous session was gone. Our next few sessions were rocky b/c I so badly wanted to get back to where we were. I wanted to talk and have him listen and I wanted to know I could get through this and I wanted to know that when I was hurting (as I knew I would be) that someone would be there and not critize, or judge, just respond with such genuine kindness, the likes of which I don't think I have ever experienced in my life. But that was gone and I started to not want to go back to see him. Then, in one session, he flatly asked me if I was attracted to him (this stemmed from a conversation about me feeling guilty about discussing my husband in therapy). I responded, "you can be very tender sometimes and I think that is attractive." He became very flustered and told me that psychologists aren't "real people" because they have "no flaws" b/c we don't see them in real life. Whatever. I could count about a handful of his just from our sessions, but I left that alone. I did, however, feel slightly rejected b/c he looked a bit horrified. This guy is nearly 20 years my senior and he's a bit of a geek (ok a lot of a geek). I was pissed b/c I would think he could at least pretend to be flattered. But I digress. Truth be told, I was attracted to him. He was smart and funny and I have always had a soft spot of geeky guys. Plus, add the tenderness of the earlier session and a certain amount of control freak and a dash of vunerability and, heck yeah, that is attactive, but I didn't entertain the notion of anything happening. I was never far from my mind that I was paying $150 out of my pocket to talk to him. If I am paying someone that much, as far as I am concerned, they work for me for that hour and as much as I liked him, I sure as h*ll? didn't like him $150 per hour worth. I was in therapy for a reason. I wanted to work through my issues. I wanted to be able to talk to men without feeling fear, I wanted to be able to feel content, I wanted to learn how to establish boundaries, I wanted to not have every moment plagued by fear that people just don't like me. Sadly, I accomplished none of that. As much as I liked him, I  am just really disappointed that I wasted all that time and money on something that didn't work and I think he knew from the get go that he didn't offer the type of thereapy that I probably needed though I thank him for trying. I have no idea who or what I am irritated about this except that I really want to go back and ask him what the h*ll? did he mean about learning about himself. If he got more out of therapy than I did, I want some of my money back. I hope anyone who reads this finds my rambling entertaining. All these thoughts have been bumping around inside my brain for nearly three weeks now and I needed to put them out, but I do not feel comfortable talking to people I know about them because I don't want them to get the idea. I have no idea what his intentions were, if any. I am very positive he was trying to help me and I would never want to get him into trouble, but I need to sort out my thoughts so that I can let them go. I can tell, just by typing this, that I have some major issues which I am not sure I fully recognized until this point. I can't pin down my ideas, I jump all over the place, I don't want to accept responsibility for anything I may have done, I want to be able to treat people the way I want and I don't want consequences. Contratulations! I am officially my mother, but I'll save that for another blog. Peace out and good night

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Life is tough. Sometimes really tough. And confusing. I had a great job-I LOVED it! I was good at it. I felt appreciated. But a cross between burnout and the stress of being a new mother made it too hard to continuing working at all, so I left my great job. My boss asked me to come back twice. Both times I said "no." But then, my husband lost his job. We were weeks away from closing on our first house, I had just found out we were pregnant with out second child and life had seemed like it was finally coming together. I needed a job - now! But my boss wasn't hiring - my loss.

I miscarried the baby and we did go through with purchasing our house. My husband found a temporary job (earning about 1/3 of what he was making) and I found a job at a fledgling financal consulting firm with an employer who openly admitted his was diagnoses as bipolar, but not on medication (not a good combination at any time, but even more miserable to work for). I needed the job so I put up with the abuse, and that is exactly what it was. I felt like I was in an abusive relationship (more on that another time).

Depression set in - big time. Then, my parents separated and my father-in-law was diagnosed with cancer. He and my mother-in-law move in with me while he was in treatment. Work got worse, my depression got worse, my husband was gone with his new job for weeks at a time. I lost weight, I wouldn't eat, I cried all the time and I spanked my two-year-old so hard it could almost classify as a beating. I needed help and sought it out. I went on meds and was referred to a psychologist. He urged me to leave my work and find something else, but I stayed. I wanted so badly to go back to my old job and I had a feeling, deep in my gut, that if I just stuck it out where I was for a while longer, my old job would open up again.

Low and behold, nine months after I went back to work, my old boss asked me to lunch. Over lunch, she offered me my old job back. Going back was amazing. It was like going back home. Sadly, however, nothing stays the same. There had been some turn over in the office and it had changed the dynamic entirely. What was once a supportive all woman office, was now as catty as a middle-school clique. I didn't fit in with the new "office." I was too formal, too professional, too different.

I braced myself - waiting for the day that I would get fired as my boss has a habit of clandestinely terminating those who "don't fit in" with her office. I had many "talking-to"s, what my boss calls "come to Jesus" meetings about my work (not enough getting done!) about always seeming tired, about this about that. It was pins and needles and eggshells and everything else.

I have poured much time into reflecting on this. I know I need to find a different job, but the same gut feeling that told me to stick it out before, is telling me if I stick it out just a little longer, things are going to get better. Recently, however, my boss hired a part-time person to help cover my job (don't know why, I am billing out at least six hours per day, which is what she asks for) because I am too far behind.

I'm not entirely against this idea, except for this woman's first two or three days, my boss put her AT MY DESK!! I was made to float around, working wherever I could find an open desk or work that could be done without a computer. I nearly walked out. I felt displaced and disrespected. I address my boss (calmly, speaking so that she would listen) about my feelings to which she responded, "It's not your desk, it is my desk and I haven't decided what I'm going to do yet or where she [the new lady] will be, permanently." I was livid. Walk out or be a BI**H and get fired. I opted for the fired route. But my boss wasn't biting. She didn't fire me. Instead, she realized that the new lady she hired wasn't working out as perfectly as she had hoped and gave me my desk back and this other, part-time lady will have to desk-share with our intern.

Did I win? Why is this important. I so badly want this to work out. I want to reestablish the working relationship my boss and I once had. We worked so well together. Not all of that is gone, though. I can still practically read her mind when it comes to what she wants for work product, it is just all the other silly stuff.

Sadly, even pouring it out here and now (which I thought would bring some clarity to the issue) hasn't really helped. It just makes me more confused. I believe that I am looking at this objectively as far as recounting the "what happened and when," and I feel confident that I accurately identified my emotions over the subject, but what I don't know it what to do about it. Do gut feelings count? My gut says "stay, things will get better" but my mind say "Run! Don't walk, you don't need this, you have too much to offer to be treated this way!" and that is both my logical and emotional mind talking. Gut v. Mind - who to believe??

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Okay ~ four days and I can go see my psychologist. Truth be told, I enjoy going to therapy, though I would never, ever tell him that. It isn't that he and I have such a wonderful chemistry or that I feel totally understood. It is that I really love having an entire hour (45 min) of someone's attention to talk about me. That sounds totally narcissistic, but in truth, in that office is the only place where the need to be the center of attention get filled. I am "co-dependent" for a reason. I give and give and give and rarely take. Most of my relationships are based not on how much the person likes me and and how much I like them, but rather what I can do for them and the praise I receive for doing it (there are a few exceptions to that pattern, but not many). But when I go in to see Dr. *, I don't have to give anything. I only have to share my feelings (and that is hard enough). But because I am afraid to become too needy or even just to seem too needy, I only let myself go once per month, even though he would prefer that I come in every week. I have to wonder why I am afraid to tell him I like coming to therapy or that I am afraid of seeming "needy." It is because I don't want him to be right. He thinks I fear rejection. I tell him I disagree, but he is right. I am afraid that I will become the taker and not stop taking until I have leeched every ounce of compassion right out of him and then it still wouldn't be enough, like an emotional vampire. So I control myself, keep my distance and try to hide the need. I wonder if it will ever get filled. I know that food doesn't fill it, I don't like drinking because it screws up my control, not into drugs, I know that sex isn't all that fullfilling (not in the way I am looking for), so that only leaves giving. I may have just talked myself into a circle, but I'm not sure. Lots to think about before Tuesday.

TTFN

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I just finished reading Get Me Out of Here My Recovery from Boarderline Personality Disorder by Rachel Reitan. Half-way through the book I became enraged. This was my life. These were my thoughts. Her childhood was my childhood. Ooooh! I have been feeling a lot of hatred toward my mother in recent years (we're estranged), but now I felt violent toward her. I thought of every horrible thing I endured from her as a child and an adolescent. About how our roles reversed as I grew into adulthood. I didn't even get a chance to be "normal."

I'm not sure how to articulate what else is on my mind right now. These thoughts that have kept me company through the years, the caustic reactions to seemingly benign acts of others, the obsessed thinking, the enmeshment between friends/lovers, the fear of smothering people with my needs so I hold myself back almost completely--I thought everyone felt like that, I didn't know those were the trademark behaviors associated with bpd. I am thankful that I never resorted to self-destruction / destructive behavior (with the exception of binge eating, but when you love to cook as much as I do, sometimes the over eating isn't about emotions as it really is about trying a little of everything which is why I typically don't go to buffets, but I digress).

After my rage ebbed, I was able to finish the book. It was a cathartic experience in that it gave voice to feelings that I couldn't have described before. In a way it was like reading a map of where you are when you are totally lost, but don't know it. I could see where I was, where I am, and the paths to get to where I want to be. I realized that a lot of how I behave isn't "healthy," but that I am not alone. Someone else out there thinks (or used to think) like I do. Granted, she was really messed up at the time, but just knowing I wasn't alone made me feel better. It was like having my feelings acknowledged.

There, now that is off my chest, though I haven't really made a dent in my emotions. But maybe with the space created by putting this out there, other thoughts and feelings will have a chance to float to the surface for my inspection.

Ta Ta for now

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In my last few therapy sessions, my psychologist has dropped the comment, "that is part of the borderline personality." After the second time he said it, I did some research. All I could find was borderline personality disorder. I'm not really sure how that happened. I've continued with research, and read some books cover-to-cover on the subject. I can see some parallel thinking, but I really do not want to accept this. Worse, I don't know what to do with it. I understand that it is just a diagnosis and that it does not define me, but WOW, what a lable to have.

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