My session was at 7 PM yesterday. So around 5:45, I'm in the dressing room of H&M (favorite store), and my cell phone rings... I look at the number, and I recognize it as the # to the psychoanalytic center. Immediately I begin to panic because I figure he is calling last minute to cancel. Of course I pick up the phone and say, " Hello ?" in the most innocent and inquisitive voice that I could manage. God forbid I would let him know that I knew it was him calling, and that I had any ounce of fear that he would be canceling. So then he identified himself on the phone, as if I didn't already have the entire conversation played out, and I was like, "Ohhhhh, yes... hello," as maturely as possible. (So, so fake). He proceeds to tell me that he had a few cancellations, so if I'd like, I could come earlier. Oh. Haha. So I grabbed a coffee and headed over...

I get there and he looks good. But I'm not ready to talk about that kind of transference yet. So the first thing I tell him is that I have called the pdoc 2x, given him numerous times that I have free to talk, and he hasn't called back. So my T starts taking down notes of what I want to tell the pdoc, and says that he's gonna leave a message on his voicemail for him to call me back. So then last night at 9:30, my pdoc leaves me a msg. What a %#@&#!. This guy kills me. It's awesome that my T acted so quickly, but my pdoc is honestly a %#@&#!. 9:30 PM on a Saturday? I didn't answer the phone b/c my street was having a block party, so I was outside bustin' a move and didn't hear my phone ring, lol. On the message, he said that he would call me today (Sunday). We'll see.

We talked about my fear of having a depressive episode come on and screwing things up for me as far as my internship goes. We talked about the last episode I went through, and looking back, there were definitely signs to recognize that it was going to take place. Then T said, "We can come up with ways to take preventative measures."
We? Him? Me? Us? Cool. Then he said, "We need to come up with a plan." And I just started to laugh because the word plan makes me think of a strict emergency protocol, in which specific steps must occur in order. Plus, I'm not used to having a "plan" in analysis. I told him this... I said, "What plan? Like as soon as I feel the first symptom of depression, start by ringing a bell?" And he started to laugh and goes, "A bell? Will there also be a Skinner box involved?" And then he began to laugh at his own behavioral therapy joke. I mean, really laugh. The guy was cracking himself up. I was laughing too, not really at his joke, but at the fact that he was cracking himself up. Then he clears his throat and goes, "Ahem... ok... sorry." It was great. And we talked about some different ways we could "plan" for trying to prevent a depression.

We talked a lot about my difficulty accepting compliments from him, and other people outide of my husband and father.

Then. The transference. I told him my 2 possible scenarios: That he is aware of a lot the feelings I am having towards him, and that is sort of comforting because once I tell him, it's not like it's a complete surprise... or that he has absolutely no idea and once I tell him, he'll be like.... what the %#@&#! is wrong with her??? I also went as far as to tell him that I wondered if these 'unnamed' transference feelings would exist if I had a female therapist as opposed to him, a male. I then referred back to the dream I told him about last week, in which I dreamt that he wasn't wearing his wedding ring, and he was explaining why, but I couldn't hear anything he was saying.... I told him that a lot of that transference manifested itself in that dream, but when we talked about it last week, I wasn't ready to elaborate on that part of the dream. So if all that didn't point to the direction in which I, at some point, would like to go, then I don't know what would.

I also told him about the series of poetry I was working on, in hopes to make a chapbook that will be published. The series is called "The Transference Poems" and is made up of poetry not only about the transference that goes on in therapy with him, but about the countertransference that take places with my own patients. So he raises his eyebrows, because as usual (this happens a lot) I am working on something outside of therapy that is completely therapy related, and refuse to share it with him, lol. Cause when I told him about it, I go, "Oh yeah, and I'm working on a series of poems called The Transference Poems, and I hope to get it published, and no, you can't see them." And he raises his eyebrows and says, "So if you have a book that is published, I can't go read it?" and I said, "No. You will not be permitted to purchase it." And he goes, "I would have to pay for it?" LOL. Then he asked me if bringing the poems into session would ruin the process of writing them because he wouldn't want that to happen. I said that it wouldn't, that it would probably only facilliate more to write about. And he said that maybe bringing them in would facilliate talking about the transference in session. Well, duh, of course it would, that's why I don't bring them in, lol. So I don't know. My poetry is very raw. He knows that. He has read stuff I've written before. I rarely share it with him. I would love to integrate my writing into therapy on a regular basis, but I haven't gotten there yet. I made him tell me again how I can say anything in front of him. He told me again. I said... I don't know if you can handle it. Truth is, I don't know if I can handle it. My writing exposes me in a way in which there is no censorship. That is a really %#@&#! hard thing to bring into therapy. Can't set up any defenses. I have read from this series of poems in my writing workshop, my writing instructor has seen them, I will have no problem using them in my reading in October.... but when it comes to T seeing them, it's sooo hard. Because then it's not just about words and images anymore. It's about me, my unconscious.

I don't see him for 2 weeks. Next Friday, I am going to NY to see my family and to go a wedding. Our schedules don't match up in order for me to see him at any other time.