I’m going to write about something my T said that keeps rolling around in my head. A few times now he’s said that he feels “protective” after reading some of my stories and I’ve found that… interesting.
I think it is meant to be a nice way of saying he cares – and that’s cool and all but the word is what stuck w me. I kind of don’t know what to do with that… I know it’s not my job to manage his emotions or anything but I think maybe I’m just used to trying to do that anyway lol. And it it kind of bugs me… like why feel protective of me? You can’t change what happened, no one can. You can’t protect me from further harm either, no one can, not even me. Why waste your time feeling that way? It’s a nice sentiment I just feel like it’s wasted on me. And tbh I don’t really feel worthy of that kind of consideration…at all.
And even if I did it doesn’t matter – I’m pretty sure I’ll always be scared of people. I’ve lived most of my life that way and worked really hard to bury those feelings so I could function, you might even say thrive, in a professional setting. So now I’m over here digging those feelings up…and the result is that this week I’ve spent nearly two full days curled up in a blanket on the sofa frozen in fear – and would have gone longer if I didn’t have responsibilities. All this…remembering makes me feel like a helpless child again… but I worked so hard to stop feeling that way and I’m a little frustrated with myself. I feel like I’m back where I started and it hurts.
I don’t think I’ve ever felt this kind of mental anguish without the undercurrent of suicide being on my mind as well. It was just pure anxiety and fear. Fear to move or be seen or do anything – realizing I still have to live and do stuff and that I’m failing by being so immobile causes me more anxiety… in a vicious cycle. And when I’m in that kind of mental pain…I feel the strong urge to hurt myself (“punish yourself”). It’s probably why I don’t care how badly I get hurt playing a contact sport or training…it’s worth it if it can mirror my internal struggles and also distract me from them.
That’s all I can manage right now – to feel like I have some sense of control. I can control how my body feels…. And what it deserves and it doesn’t feel like it deserves kindness right now – it feels like it deserves hate, pain, and suffering. Punishment for saying too much, for complaining about irrelevant things in the past, for whining, for calling attention to myself at all when I know better and should keep my mouth shut.
God, I just hurt so much and want to *be* hurt.
I’m terrified of my session this week – of even talking to my T. I don’t know what to do?