I feel so happy, kind of blissful, now that I had therapy today. Three weeks was too long. Yes, there are many challenging and difficult sessions, but there are also many where we do good work and really connect and I leave feeling like all is well inside of me. Recently, I was going over some journal entries from the past and was amazed at all that has happened in therapy. It’s been an amazing experience and T has helped me come so far. I also think he has gotten a lot out of coming on the journey.

We went over the scheduling problem from last week, when I didn’t get to have a session at the last minute. He showed me the error in his appointment book--due in part to a miscommunication--and apologized. Today, when we set up our next sessions, he was very careful and made sure I saw that.

I was inspired by my past journal entries at how I have really told him a lot of difficult stuff and at times have boldly gone after what I needed from him. It made me feel like lately I have withdrawn a bit, gotten cautious and not as trusting of him, for no good reason. Reading the journal reminded me that it is OK to go for stuff in therapy, and that I trust him to not desert me. I think this might help give me the confidence and security to not get freaked out if we have some snafus like an unanswered email or a session that got scheduled wrong. It inspired me to have the courage to trust him, to bring up the difficult, and be honest. (Ha, next week I'll probably be back to being a wimp again!)

Today I realized that I have helped T create a new metaphor that he is now using with other clients as a teaching example. He uses many such with me, and with me and my H, and it felt good to know that now I have joined that pantheon. So even when I no longer go to therapy, I will live on in at least this small way for T, as one of his examples.

I related some current stuff back to a month ago and then back to a year ago, and he loved these connections and was very moved. At one point a wave of sadness came over me unexpectedly, and I couldn't talk. T was patient and said to let it out. A few tears came--sometimes the grief over the marriage’s end just springs from unexpected places and at unexpected times. I told T I had thought this same stuff on my own the week before and not been sad. He said that is because I feel safe to be sad in his office with him. He said it was OK to go ahead and cry, but still I fought it. This struggle reminded me of my dream last week, when I was burying my tears with sand in a hole I’d dug so that no one would see. Then I did something unusual (for me) and tried to overcome that behavior of trying to suppress my sadness, and when again T invited me to just cry, I stopped fighting it, and just sobbed. I think T was somewhat taken aback because I usually don’t sob, I just cry silently, a few tears, and become speechless. So I sobbed a little while and that actually felt GREAT to not fight the sadness. He held my sadness just fine.

At the end I shared with him my dream about burying my tears in the sandy hole, and he was very interested, and wants to start with that next time.

I feel like this whole therapy thing is so rich and meaningful. It is one of the best things I have ever done for myself.