Monday 1-22 session notes:
I worked in the office today. I had driven in so I drove to your office after work. Today was the first day at the earlier schedule. It’s 30 mins earlier and I left a bit earlier than I needed to. I didn’t know about traffic and since we have to end on time, I didn’t want to be late at all. I was having anxiety about it being early about you having to leave right after. I was also angry with you. That had started earlier in the day and only grown throughout the day. I felt like I was going to bring up topics where I’d be disappointed. I knew it would not be good for me to fully immersed in emotions today so I brought with me my spiny ball so I could spin it in my hand while we talked. As I had packed up to head to your office I had imagining tearing up the Art book, throwing it all over the place, it didn’t mean anything to me.

As I was driving to your office, my thoughts were about the topic today and how to bring it up, how to calm or manage my anger, and what I really wanted to say/do with that anger. I believed it was coming from the older boy. However, none of them were really talking to me. And fear/being scared started to seep in.

As I drove by the library, I thought I should pull over and just return the Art book, same with the Ask Me book; however, I didn’t have that one with me. I knew these feelings were fleeting and not ones I should act on; that I would regret them later. I had the time, if I would have had the Ask Me book, I might have done it. I thought about telling you to tear up my copy of the Art book that you have; that I don’t want it back.

I thought about coming in and sitting on the floor in the space between the printer cabinet and the couch, I thought about going to the corner, I wouldn’t have cared that there was stuff there. Today, I could move the stuff – or so I told myself. I was convinced I could move the stuff, I could touch your stuff if it was in my way. Also, forget my leg, it didn’t matter.

I got to your building and parked on the street, around the building in the doors, down the stairs, push the button, and into the waiting room. There was a coat sitting on the chair where I usually sit. I sat further into the room, this allowed me to see more out of the waiting room and down the hallway. I pulled out my notebook and the ball. I didn’t pull out the Art book.

The one therapist whose door opens directly to the waiting room came out and was startled by me being there. Then someone else came in and sat down. I thought that it was busy, that lots of people was here. I wasn’t used to so much traffic. I wasn’t liking this earlier time. I hoped this other person wasn’t there to see you as well. It was a different schedule and thing/mistakes could be made. The client before me came out of your office and headed to the bathroom. I think it was yet another new person. I’ve now seen I believe 5 different clients other than me. After a minute or so you came out to get me. You said hi and waved at me, then noticed the other person in the room. You didn’t seem to know that person and you told me to come on back. Your smile was nice and warm.

We headed back and I go in. I look at the space between the couch and the printer cabinet, there is still the one shelf there, and I wasn’t sure I’d fit. I look at the corner and the light is there. I can move it says a much quieter voice in my head. Another voice says, we don’t need the corner; that’s right, we don’t need the corner. I sit in my usual spot on the couch. I move the pillow so I can sit more comfortably. I put my bag on the floor, notebook on the couch and keep the ball in my hands. You sat down and noticed the ball. I've only used the ball a couple of times.

hi... hi...

I pause, where to go, what to say. I say I am doing better, my leg is doing better. You sighed in relief and said something about that being good. We talked a little about my leg and I shared the daily picture of it. You agree it looks much better. Your face seems to tell me that it still looks painful. The way I read your response felt good, like you were not just asking for an update. It felt like you were worried and was waiting with anticipation (on the edge of your seat) to how I was doing with my leg.

Sometimes I wonder if the boundary is hard on you too; the not able to really initiate contact. Today, I think it was hard some for you to wait to find out how I was doing. Then again, projection? reality? Is there a difference in those moments? I want you to care, to love me, so do I take you changes in body language and what seems to be a sigh of relief and smile as caring and love ... or do you respond that way because there is caring and love there as well as a boundary that you have to adhere to as much as I do. I choose to believe the latter - that you care and love me; and you live by the boundary that is needed as part of this work, and perhaps that is hard on you at times as well.

I took back and set aside my phone and pick up the ball again. I start spinning the ball and looking at it/the floor, then back at you. I said that I wanted to talk about the more sessions and your training, I explain that as I had written, the only therapy I know of that is 3,4,5 x week is psychoanalytical and from what I understand, that’s different than what we've been. I said something about it is just “sit back and talk” and a lot less interactive [from you]. You asked me to tell you more about what I am thinking about psychoanalytical. I'm sitting there going, there isn't more, that's pretty much it. One sits back and talks (or lays on couch) and talks... and the therapist... just kind of is there with little interjection. I reiterated the sit and talk, no/little interaction. I said something else, then I said not as ... I didn't want to use the word I've been using to describe it - the experiential, I don't know why ... maybe because you used to be a teacher and in that world, it has specific meaning, which is close to what we are doing but I didn't want you to go to teacher mode or to think of it in those terms. I said not so (hmm don't remember exact word) feeling/doing, maybe I said experiencing (that doesn't sound right either).

I keep talking and I'm spinning the ball as I talk. I look at the floor and back at you. I say this and that ... you are listening, then I say no more playing… this and that... and I say, have to grow up… this and that... we are not welcomed - I'm thinking the little boy... I'm feeling the little boy - all inner parts are scared, he is feeling unwelcomed in the moment.

I'm spinning the ball, moving how I am holding it, spinning it, pressing my fingers into the spines of i. I see you catch the phrases, I'm watching you enough to see that they land. At this point, I'm crying in session, not bawling, just a few tears dripping... this and that said, don't really remember, you said that you don’t know if this will help, that you’ve drawn heavily on psychoanalytical stuff for our work and that it is a very wide field. The parts are not with me, they are scared, I can feel all of them being scared, and sad at not being wanted. Being unwanted (no longer wanted) is a very bad feeling. It doesn't ever go away. Anytime I think about/feel the unwanted, I get scared and I cry. More said, not really sure what...

Somehow, we started talking about increasing sessions. I told you that as long as Tuesday was my only option to increase sessions that I didn't think the gains were worth the risks. I said that it wouldn't address the Th-M swing. You seemed to understand and commented on that adding Tuesday might even make that swing harder. I talked about the 3 days. We talked about the th-m swing and how 3 days is fine, I can do 3 days. I tell you that when it is 5 days is never going to happen. That I don't see it. I mean I know it's going to happen, it just feels like it's forever away, I can't feel it. I tell you that 4 days is kind of a grey area, I can do it (really thinking about this once home, 2 days is what is really good). You say something about a Friday or Sat. I said that at some point if you were to offer 4,5 times a week, you’d have to open your schedule more and we could approach the more sessions at that time. You seemed to accept this information with openness and understanding. I got thinking once at home that you might have been thinking that you would do M-Th thing and have 3 day weekends. Which wouldn't help me in the Th-M swing, unless I did do all 4 days and just needed the break of the weekend; not ideal, not sure if desired.

As things here were winding down, I start really playing with the ball again... and looking at the floor. Somehow, I tell you I am angry. You asked or said something about me being angry at you. I indicate yes. You asked about me being angry that you don't offer Friday sessions. I said no. I don't tell you what I am really angry about. I said something about you changing and not my place. You said something and I repeat you changing and not my place. You asked what I mean by not my place. I said your life. You said something that let me know you understood more what I meant.

I want to say... didn't you think about me when you made this decision to do this program, how this would affect me... part of me knows that you did and to some degree because of our work, that our work had some factor to your decision to want to learn more how to help in this way, type of deal; still I feel like.... ... like… … and I am thinking... we are always changing. I said change is hard for me. All that thinking and all I said is change is hard for me. You said something about me not having good experiences with change.

I told you about talking to a friend about this change and how I thought it was about Uncle R and then I thought about my mom, how she changed in respect to the birth of my sister. I tell you remind you that my mom’s pregnancy with my sister was hard. I said that my mom was told that my sister would be born mentally retarded and/or physically disabled and that the doctors recommended an abortion. You said something about before it was legal. 1971, not sure if it was legal in Oregon or not, but yeah, they recommended it if she didn’t stay in bed. It was more of a threaten because of how much she was endangering both her and my sister.

I continued, when my sister was born they had to go out and buy doll clothing because she was so small. She was full term with hair and fingernails. She was healthy. You listened. I cried more when I talk about my sister and how she was never fat, social, happy... everything I never was, girly... that I wasn't my mom's little girl anymore. I talked about the relief my mom must have felt at my sister being born healthy and how that possibly played into things, but also baby of the family, and everything my mom is. I told you how up until about 6 yrs ago, my mom and my sister did lots together, and talked almost daily if not multiple times a day. I said how they had their rough patch when my sister was doing drugs. But then she stopped, went back to school, and... You listened, just listened, empathetically listened – witnessed.

During this time, I spun the ball, not as much as I talked through it. I’m not really sure what happened here or how things wrapped up here. It seemed like we talked more about this, but I don't really remember. I don’t know if you said anything at all through this exchange other than the interjection about the abortion.

I started talking about my weekend conversation with friends. One of the conversations was about how I started parts work. This brought us to reminiscing on how we did start the parts work. I laughed at the tattoo. I told you how I realized it was a test for you. You asked me how so. I said something about not yelling. I had said something and you talked about not knowing if you should ask or not ask. I found it cute and glad in a way that you were unsure which way to go. I don’t think there would have been a wrong way, just different experience. I like the experience I got. You were interested when I finally did tell you about it and that was good. I had the time to make the tattoo mine, truly mine. It was nice to reminisce about that. I told you that I smile whenever I think about how the tattoo came to be. It will always be a reminder of you, the bratty thought pattern of “how you can’t tell me what to do, it’s my body”, and this process.

I told you that after you accepted the tattoo, that was when the little boy started talking to me, and I thought I was going crazy. I really did. You meant so much to me then. I couldn’t understand why every little thing was all about you. Why you cancelling caused me such grief. Why I was mad and worried/terrified that I might not see you again? Why I felt like every decision regarding life paths had to be passed through you. It made no sense; being a grown adult. That is how I found the forum. I thought I was losing it. You kind of smiled at that.

From here we started talking about another conversation from the weekend. I think I was crying again at this point. I said something about me not being able to tell the difference between assertiveness and aggressiveness/disrespectful. That I don’t know how to be assertive and not feel bad. You asked me how did I tell when other people are assertive or aggressive. I said that I don’t do a very good job at that. I said that I take lots of stuff as aggressive or hostile. So, I don’t know what is the difference. I didn’t say that when people are assertive it feels like I am being blocked and I take it hostile or I feel like they are being critical and I am bad in some way. I even think people are yelling at me when they’re not actually yelling, just when I feel they have a strong, different, or disapproving position. We talked about a few techniques in communication that shows respect, openness, ownership, and assertiveness.
Time was up, and this was the first Monday with the new schedule. I keep trying to move on, leave. I need to leave, she needs to leave.
me: I love you
you: I know

me: I’m scared
you: I know

I sit there... I want to tell you don't change.

me: I want to tell you to not to change.
you: (a non-verbal response; it felt understood, compassionate, and aware that change was going to happen (something like that)

me: don't change very quickly.
you: I know.

You tell me it's ok to be scared, thank me for being me, all of me

Some more said, and I thank you for being you, you said right back at you. I'm getting up by now. You said to stay safe, be well. and blah

I left. I was sad, alone. As I drove away, a song came on the radio that reminded me of a friend. I couldn’t listen to the song. I was missing my friend. I got home, ate dinner, I felt sad, alone, and little. I cried. The phone rang and I hoped it was you. I didn’t even go to the phone because I knew it wasn’t you.