This is really really long so I apologize in advance. Trigger warning for SH references scattered throughout.

He moved to a different office in the same building and I glanced around a bit before picking where in the room to sit on the floor against the wall so that I wouldn't be behind a chair or in the far corner, but there would still be some reasonable distance between us. He half teasingly asked if I was ever going to go back to sitting in the chair. I told him that it made me feel better and that he'd get more out of me this way than if I sat in the chair.

We started with political discussion. He'd made a comment on Friday that concerned me, so I wanted to make sure we were on the same page when it comes to fundamental values. We were.

I told him about remembering that a lot of the times I was defiant with my father wasn't to just to antagonize him as I'd feared. It was a matter of principle. I wasn't going to be bullied into submission. No one else stood up to him, but I would rather be punished and/or screamed at than placate him and apologize for something I didn't do. T thinks that means I care about myself on some level and tried to get me to think of being cruel to myself in the same way. But it's different.

I brought up that I couldn't stand to watch the 2016 debates because a certain politician was reminiscent enough of my father that it I had an irrational reaction of feeling like I was 10 and in a room with my father again and feeling unsafe. That there was a lot of similarity there with the authoritarian attitude and absolute refusal to admit to being wrong and the bullying and everything, even some of the mannerisms. But that with my father there was more yelling and physical intimidation and being trapped in a room with him and unable to escape.
T said it was understandable that I had a visceral reaction. I think this gave him a better idea about what my father was like. Not that he doubted me before, just that this helped him understand what I meant.

I then gave him the note/letter I'd written. That's been my thing lately to start a conversation about something I can't bring up.
The note started with "what I needed you to say on Friday was "you're not alone in this. When something comes up that's a trigger you can come in here and we can discuss it instead of you hurting yourself." Self harm is how I deal with the things I feel like I can't or shouldn't talk about."
A minute or so into reading he kind of sighed in like a sad way and said that he would want me to come in and talk about it. I didn't really say much.
The note continued to say that it's things like transference and the larger issue it represents. That I didn't want to need to talk about it but I do. And that, no, it wasn't romantic/erotic transference and that that would almost be easier because at least that's a normal adult want/need, and that it would just be a case of it being misdirected, but that it's something that can be fulfilled in other relationships in a healthy way. That what I want would not be healthy for me to get fulfilled in a healthy way as an adult.
He paused at what I assume was that point in the note to ask whether the want/need that I was referring to that I felt would be unhealthy to get fulfilled was being cared about. I had my head turned completely away from him buried in my elbow the entire time but I nodded.

The note continued to explain that, to state the obvious, it was something I didn't get as a kid. But I never stopped wanting it. That I had to hide my distress from almost everyone and that no one I told who was supposed to be looking out for me took my distress seriously or believed me. That I had to hide my SH and SI and later my ED so that my parents wouldn't be informed. And I longed for an adult to realize what was going on and see me as the hurting kid that I was and want to protect me and take care of me. Not a "partner" in an equal way as a peer, but someone I saw as "a real adult" who "had their **** together" who I didn't need to protect. But that didn't happen. And now I'm an adult, not a hurt child, and that's not how healthy adult relationships work.
I wrote that I was acutely aware of the fact that even the most understanding person would find this weird and creepy. And that most would be horrified.
He asked whether I was concerned that he would feel that way, and told me that he didn't think it was wrong to have those wants/needs, it was how I felt. Then he continued reading.

I wrote about how wanting these things made me feel bad and wrong and weak and pathetic and shameful. That I hated that I felt this way. That I was disgusted with myself. That SH was my way of dealing with these things by myself without making it anyone else's problem. That I had to learn to live with the fact that I wanted something I couldn't have and shouldn't want and this was the only way I knew how.
I wrote that that was part of the reason I needed strict boundaries, because I can't allow myself to have what I want. That it wouldn't be healthy. That I already knew I couldn't get this fulfilled from anyone else and that no one could "save" or "fix" me and that he didn't need to tell me that. That being told that would feel like rejection and only make me feel more ashamed.
That I couldn't allow myself to have it because I wanted it too much. That most people can drink in moderation, but that alcoholics wanted alcohol too much and no amount would ever be enough and so they can't allow themselves to have any (I have a year of sobriety tomorrow, and he knows I have about a year, though I haven mentioned the specific date). And that that's the reason I can't allow myself to have any, because I'll always want more.

He said it wasn't the same thing. That alcoholics are using alcohol as a substitute for coping in healthier ways. I said that I use being cared about as a substitute for trying to learn how to care about myself.
He asked whether there was a correlation between the intensity of my desire to seek that from others and my negative beliefs/feelings about myself. I said yes. He said that this doesn't mean I can't allow myself to be cared about at all. He'd kind of already made his point with that question.
I explained that the more I wanted to be cared about the more I wanted to hurt myself. That I hated myself for it. That when I let myself be cared about I had to punish myself. He kind of sighed again in a way that sounded sad. And I got some kind of satisfaction from that, and I hate myself for it.

I said I still didn't care about myself. We talked about me feeling like other people's feelings and pain matter, but mine doesn't as long as I can keep myself from making it anyone else's problem. He pointed out that that was unfair, and I said I wasn't there because I was great at being rational and having emotions consistent with my intellectual beliefs. He said that I was there so at least part of me believed that I mattered or wanted to do this for myself. I told him that I didn't get help until it started affecting my work and other people, that being super anemic interfered with my work and I was missing work because of the ER and psych holds. He kind of sighed and said it felt like we were playing tug of war.

He asked me if I could look at him at some point during this time but I don't remember exactly which part. I glanced up at him, but it was too much and I hid my head again. And every time he "validated my feelings" or acknowledged how cruel I am to myself and that that must be really painful or said something compassionate or understanding I kind of involuntarily flinched and curled up tighter defensively and in shame. So I'm sure he noticed that and that was part of it.

He made a rare personal disclosure. He said that he had had to learn a really hard lesson early on and he was in supervision and his supervisor told him that you can't care about someone else's health more than they care about themselves. Hearing that he'd struggled with that made me feel a bit better.
Sometimes I worry that the boundaries and the fact that he doesn't act upset about my pain aren't just because it's important for me but that it's really easy for him to not care and it doesn't bother him at all and that it's presumptuous of me to even think that he might be affected at all.
Even though he's told me before that it would upset him if I gave up, and that one of the hardest things is watching someone you care about give up and not take care of themselves but that you also have to accept that it's their choice and you can't control them.
Knowing that he struggled with caring too much at one point made me feel better, that maybe it's not just super easy for him to not give a **** about me.

That conversation was why I threw away my razor blades when I left and I got rid of all my suturing stuff when I got home. I want to try to care about myself and I want to want to get better.

And there's still part of me that's doing it so that I can "earn" him caring about me and wants him to be glad and proud when I tell him, not just in a professional doing his job way, but because he cares.
And I don't know if I'll tell him that.