Accepting that T is not who I want

I'm having a hard time dealing with my session today. I didn't like being an adult talking about my mother. It was hard and I kept avoiding looking at my T. She wants to do EMDR about my mother next week. She also gave me a book on grieving that she didn't even read yet.

I didn't cry. She said it's okay to cry outside of therapy if I can't in the session. What hurts, and I know it's so stupid, is my disappointment that my T is "not the one". Duh. Of course I know that, and I know about transference, and I even told her that I know she can't replace my mother. But I wish she could. I HATE that she can't. I don't want to grieve for my mother. It seems like I care more about my T than for my mother, though that's not true.

I emailed my T that I hate her and I'm angry because she's "not the one." I feel lost and alone now. My T thinks I need to grieve for my mother though she died so long ago. I was 34. She thinks that's young to lose a mother; I always thought it wasn't, and that I should have been an adult taking care of my Mom when she was sick. Instead, I pushed it all aside and stayed a child. My Mom didn't say goodbye to me though she was sick for a few years. I think it's my fault we never talked about much. I don't remember exchanging "I love you's" at the end.

I suppose the grief is for my mother but it's also for my T because she's just my T. You don't know how much that fact HURTS me. She wants me to write a poem "for my mother". I don't want to but I know I will.

I trust my T because grief and loss are her specialties, but I feel so bad right now. I also hate that someone comes after my session and she was waiting so I saw my T greet her with a big "hi". I hate reality.

((((rainbow)))) It's OK to grieve for your mother.....it's also OK to grieve because T can only be T and not your mother in real life. Reality is hard, yes; it hurts, yes. And it's OK to grieve that, too.
Today, something happened that hasn't happened to me before, a feeling of jealousy or something.....as the client ahead of me was going out her door, my T said to her 'I'll be thinking of you a lot this week'. And I thought for a split second, but you've never said that to me in front of some other client as I'm leaving! And it was a brief flash of realizing my T is 'my T' to others too......a little reminder that others have their therapeutic connections with her too, and that I'm only one of many on her mind in the week. It's reality and I accept it as it is.....but not without a poignant pang of grief/sorrow for it being that way.
So it's OK to grieve.....

I am so sorry. Though I can't relate to the loss of your mother, and can relate to your other feelings. I am sorry for your loss.

(((rainbow)))
Even in your grief over reality, and your mom, and your T... you still amaze me at how you can talk about it with such beautiful clarity and honesty.

((((((Rainbow)))))

I'm sorry you had a tough session. I'm dealing with grief right now too...dad died three years ago and I haven't even begun to feel it yet. I've put my T in my dad's place and just admitted it to him last week...how I think of him as a father figure (even though he is 10 years younger than my dad was when he died)

Anyway, I hate that my T is just my T...all of the time. Hugs

((((((Rainbow))))))) Oh goodness, I can understand so many of the feelings you describe. It's hard, huh? It's so SO hard when that reality that they are *not* the one, just slaps us in the face. It's like, for me, I know it....of COURSE, I know it, but there is this very tiny little part of me, a young part, and a needy and sad part, that maybe still holds on to the fantasy that T *could* be the one. Then there are just those moments of reality hitting like a ton of bricks where I wake up and even my young parts have to know, have to REALLY *know* that T can never/will never fill the hole/replace the loss/be the one. It is damn hard!

My situation is a bit different but I think that it is similar in that the feelings of loss are really/should really be attached to my father, and not to my T. So, I do think that there is something to be said about connecting the grief and the sadness with the person/situation that it really and truly belongs too. It's hard to do that, but my T pushes me there too....tells me to grieve the parent/child relationship that I lost, acknowledge it, own it, recognize it. I guess the goal is to understand that the huge sense of emptiness and longing belongs there, and does not belong to the loss that I feel as a result of T's inability to be "the one." I am not sure if I am explaining this very well, but nonetheless, I feel you.

I also understand being really angry at T and wanting/needing to express that. I do it ALL the time!! So, do that, express your anger....let her have it if you need to and then, take a breath, plant your feet on the ground, and write the poem to your mom....do what she says. When all is said and done, I always have to remind myself that I *truly* believe that my T has my best interest in mind. It sounds like you know this about your T too. She knows what she's doing. She cares about you. She wants to help. So, once you have vented and expressed what you need to express....try to breathe and just listen.....

(((( Rainbow ))))

So much pain.

Reality does hurt at times, and in a big way at times too. I wish it was easier. *sigh*

I wonder if that reality is the hidden meaning behind the discomfort of being around T's other clients. That it's the thing that really smacks you in the face that T is T - and not all these other things that we want them to be.

Blech. I know how much it feels to hate that in a big way. Having that combined with your issues with your mom I'm sure amplifies that, tenfold. Ugh.

rainbow, it sounds like you got so much done in this session, it is so understandable to be reeling afterwards

I'm glad you were able to express your anger and disappointment to T in an email, but I wonder how it will feel to sit with having said 'I hate you' for a week as she doesn't reply anymore? Don't forget you can always email again. (Just thinking of this because I sometimes impulsively say 'I don't care' or 'I never loved you anyway'... and then a few hours or a day later need to say 'well, actually, I do love you, but I felt angry because [...]').

Just wanted to respond to something in your title. I think for you at the moment it means the grief that T cannot be who you want her to be. Ugh, I feel this so often, and I know how much it hurts. But occasionally, 'T is not who I want' means something else... a sudden realisation when T is saying "I'm here", "you're not alone", that T is not the one I want. It's my partner. Or my mum. And I just wanted to tell you in case there is also this feeling lurking somewhere- not just the grief that T is not your mother, but your mother, rather than T, being the one you really want. Or maybe not. Just in case...

Sending you love and strength for the week ahead

perhaps you need to grieve what your mother wasn't first? Wondering if your saddness that T isn't what you want isn't more of the transference process..as much as some loved their mothers, there are always times when they weren't what we wanted them to be and perhaps if you could grieve that then T will be "enought" as she is?

Wow, this is so tough. I feel for you and wish you the best of luck with this in the weeks to come as well.

(((((((Rainbow)))))))) You are special to your T. That is the truth.
When my T told me a few months ago that in T training class last year the older T told him "Clients are YOUR CHILDREN" - that he thought of me. I call him my "dolphin daddy" and it is the truth. He is a father to me in many ways.

When my T told me what that T said, I actually thought of you. You do have T as a mother figure. And mothers can love all her children. You can still enjoy the emotions of being special in a healthy way.

(((((((((((((Rainbow))))))))))))))))

This DOES hurt. I think that the fact that sometimes T feels SO CLOSE to being "the one" makes it that much harder. Like we're dying of thirst and there's this big glass of water just out of our reach.

I remember the first time I felt that in therapy....that feeling of wanting T to be "the one" SO badly...it was actually pretty early in therapy, and wow, it HURT. It was like for the very first time, I acknowledged to myself what I didn't get growing up, and I really FELT the big hole that was left.

Over the years, T has given me so much, and that hole is being filled up bit by bit by T and by the love that T is teaching me to accept from others...but there is no way to go back and "redo" anything we missed as children. Sometimes that hits me all over again and it kind of takes my breath away.

It sounds like maybe you have some guilt over the time around your mom's death as well?? My dad died when I was 34, and it's easy to look back now and imagine what I could have done differently, but I know I did the best I could at the time.

I'm sorry it hurts so much, rainbow. I know the pain is part of the healing....it's just so hard to get from here to there. You're doing a good job.

oh rain, so much pain.again i wish i could just reach through this computer with big hugs and make it all better.i'm sorry you are hurting so much.at the same time as much as it hurts i know it is something you need to go through and work through it.and i know you T will be able to help you with it also.
i love what inbloom said here about you and your T

It is hard work trying to make your T be your mother, isn't it? Do you really want to do it? What if you didn't have to do that any more? What if you could be you, and not have to hold up your mother, or make your T into your mother?

Anger is a part of the grieving process so in a way you re already beginning to do what is so hard for you to do.
For me, the idea of my T being my mother makes me cringe! awe H* no! LOL But massage T is different. She comes from a background that doesn't buy into transference. She says she feels honored to do things with/for me that I needed my mom to do and my mom couldn't. I thought for sure this was a lie so I tested it . Sure enough she came through... but you know what... it still landed me in the same place... grief.
Sucks... can't get around grieving no matter what we do.

I didn't expect so many replies. Thank you to everyone. I'll reply individually to everyone later because right now I'm crying from pain and from feeling cared about here.

Some months ago I emailed my T: If I stay in therapy forever, is it like my mother never died? We didn't discuss it at the time so I emailed it to her again last night.

I started therapy a few months after my Mom died but I didn't tell my T until about 4 months later. No, actually I came in with a list of my problems and "my mother died" was somewhere on it. I read the list to her and that was about it. I didn't talk much to her; I had no idea what therapy was supposed to be or what I was supposed to say. I don't think she even heard me say it, and that fact didn't come until all those months went by. Even then, I said it casually and my T thought I was talking about my mother-in-law. I remember her surprise and then her suggesting that maybe my depression had something to do with my Mom's death. I didn't want to go there at all!

The book my T gave me to read, though she's thinking of others for me and will tell me next time, is: Unattended Sorrow by Stephen Levine. He's got a mindfulness approach; talks about meditation. I think it's going to be good; it makes me cry. Has anyone read it?

I am feeling this so hard in my gut right now. Don't want to add more to the emotions but you are being a good parent to yourself right now. Being a good parent means caring and being attuned and you are doing both of those things for yourself...

You are on a good path here rainbow. Good work............

((((((Rainbow))))))

I have just read both of your threads. I can feel the emotion in your words, and the pain. I think grief is starting to come up too. That grief may be, in part, about the disappointment that your t can't be your mom. But if you look at it a bit closer, this grief may also tie into the grief about losing your mom. What i mean is, if you are grieving that your t can't be your mom, then you are admitting that inside, you feel like you need a mom. And if you feel like you need a mom, then maybe it is because your own mom is gone. So the grief may be about both: that your t can't be your mom, and that your own mom is gone.

I think you are in a difficult, deep area of therapy right now. I know it feels bad, but it also feels good, yes? Because you are feeling the caring that your t "can" give you, and the caring that is coming to you from this community of PC. So along with the pain and sadness is also a measure of comfort.

I can so closely relate to what you're going through in wanting your t to be your mom. I feel the exact same way. It's just that in my case, my mom is still alive. I'm grieving not having had a mom that could love and protect me in the way i needed her to. So I am not grieving something that i lost, but something that i never had.

Rainbow, you are in my thoughts so often as we travel this therapy path. I'm sorry that therapy has to be so painful at times. But you are growing so much. I believe all the effort and pain are going to be worth it in the end.

Big hugs to you!

((((((Rainbow))))))) I haven't read that book, but would love to hear what you think about it after you do....

*sigh*.....I guess that I don't have much to add except that I am so sorry that things hurt so bad. I don't want to go into specifics so as not to steal your thread, but I lost a couple of people dear to me a few years back and this really intensified my dependency issues with my T. Honestly, up until I read through this thread, I guess I did not really connect the two- losses, and more dependent on T. I am sure that there is a correlation there. What you said that you emailed T, about if seeing her forever would be like your mom didn't die.....it just touches me. It's like we have some holes that are just so deep and painful and there is this un/subconscious desire to want to fill them with something that will make them feel better....

I DO think that you are healing.....for me, the times that it hurts the most are the times that really take my healing journey to the next level. Hang in there.

Thanks again for all the compassionate responses.
poetgirl: Reality is hard! I know you understand. I'm learning how to grieve.

gaia: thank you!

ECHOES: I just write what I feel. Thank you!

sweetlove: I'm sorry about your Dad. It's hard!

inbloom: you explained it perfectly. Why do we want to grieve for our Ts and NOT for the person we should be grieving for? To protect ourself from pain?

MUE: Yes, I hate that T is T but it's comforting at the same time.

improving: I emailed T today too. I already wrote a letter "to" my Mom, not a poem, and emailed it to T. I didn't write anything I hadn't told her in the session, but it was "to" my Mom, so it was kind of a release or something. T will email me back once, maybe tomorrow or Friday. She'll probably say I'm working hard, or something like that.

PTSD: Thank you!

tree: Yes, I have guilt about "running away" when my Mom was sick and dying. My T is trying to get me to see that "I did the best I could". Thanks for understanding and for all the hugs.

granite: you're really special and make me feel loved. Thank you.

pachy: I don't know how to answer you. It's been hard work all these years wanting my Ts to be what they can't be. It would be better to let that go. Is that what you mean?

Omers: This is the first time I've told my T that I hate her. I like her so much so it's weird. Could be I'm angry with my mother for dying and my T for only being my T. She can hold my hand but it's not completely taking away the grief. You're so right.

lastyear: I didn't think of it that way, that I'm being a good parent to myself. Thanks!

Sannah: I hope so. Thank you.

Peaches: Yes, I'm grieving for my Mom and because my T can't be her. I hurts doubly but it's all the same. I hope it will help. Thanks.

inbloom: I'm sorry for your losses. I really hope that I'm going to heal from this. I can't stand to keep going from T to T to get what I can't ever truly have from them. It hurts too much to do that anymore. It's hard to accept that I minimized the effect of my Mom's death but I think I did.

As you say, it is hard work trying to get other people to be what you want them to be -- it is exhausting. Someday maybe you will think that it really isn't what you want to do anyway, and that will be liberating, finding that you don't have to make people over any more.

Great job writing a letter to your mom. You and this thread have motivated me to look more closely at where my own neediness belongs. I may write some letters myself. Your honesty and dedication to healing really inspires me, Rainbow.

pachy, I hope that grieving fully will help me. Thank you for being here! inbloom: thank you for your kind words. I keep thinking about my Mom and my T, and wanting to grieve for my Mom with my T. It's hard to think about death and harder to talk about it, but my T says it's okay and I need to. It's hard to come face to face with the reality. I still hate my T (part of me does, not all of me) for shattering my dreams even though she told me she didn't want to do that. By being my T she did it; it's not her fault. I hate that she cares about other clients besides me. I have to stop pretending that therapy is something it isn't. My T lost her mother too; she understands. That's the reality. She emailed me that she respects me for the "hard work I'm doing in therapy". I know I have to feel this pain and hurt and this time not go back into denial about who my T is. It's too disappointing to see her for who she is. But sometimes it isn't because she's there for me as much as she is able to be. It's got to be enough for me. It hurts, though. I wish my Mom had been alive to see my kids grow up. I'm just writing stream-of-consciousness here because I'm anxious and sad, but kind of resigned too. I'm determined to get through this and accept reality because I can't stand to have this attachment to my T that hurts so much, yet it still hurts too much to have it be about my mother. It's going to take time, I think, until I get it all straightened out.