[Lemoncake]

I'm sorry about the length but things between R and me haven't been going well since I gave him a birthday gift which he didn't acknowledge and I wanted to explain as fully as I could.

I used to do twice a week therapy but dropped down to one session a week two weeks ago. After I skipped the first tuesdays session, he emailed me asking to discuss things. I sent him the following email.

"Me asking you how you were last week and not getting a reply back hurt. It illustrated the notion that my relationship with you was artificial. It felt unreal. Like it was just one sided, like so many of my other previous relationships. That you're just like them. With all the delusion in my head, I'd imagined that I was your favourite and special. That I meant something. It was also never about being thanked, but you didn't acknowledge the present I gave you- like it was nothing. I choose the book because I have a real thing about books, yet I don't have a single memory of my father ever reading to me. I thought you could read it to your baby. "

Cut to yesterdays session:

He started with hello. I asked him how he was. He choose not to reply again.
He said that I seemed different, that he could barely hear me.

I told him that maybe he wasn't listening properly.
"What would you like me to hear?" Nothing. I told him that I could have left him cold turkey, but I knew the younger part of me would cry about it for a year.

"was I splitting off the older and younger parts, was it a battle between the two? I told him that he longer had access to the younger me. I had lived 25 years without him, that I didn't need him that he was a waste of time and I didn't trust him.

He asked why?

The lyric from miley cyrus floated in my head so I said "what do you hope to achieve when i'm crying and you know why?

Then I said that maybe our next session should be in two weeks.

"Why was I trying to subvert therapy, distorting the process into something unrecognizable, until it was no longer a process for us to engage in at all. it seemed like I had feelings but rather than tell him I'd find other ways that could be damaging for me. "

I told him that I could take care of myself, that I had no feelings. I only cared about me.

"Was I disappointed that he couldn't be the perfect human I wanted him to be?"

I said he never had to be perfect. That I would have left him at the start but the younger me believed that he could help her- but that I didn't. The devil in me had to come out to protect her because he hurt her as well.

"How?"

You have no idea?

"Well it seems to me you feel like you did give me enough, and the cake was a physical representation of this act of giving and since I received no thanks, no gratitude. I was saying that I now wasn't going to give him anymore- trust, vulnerability. That he thought I wanted him to come to me now because I was in a hard to reach place. I wanted him to be with me."

I brought up him not replying to the "how are you?". He asked so why did I test him again?

I said to see if he would change. Then he said the gifts seemed like an attempt to buy him. I had said no. So he continued with "there's no meaning, I want to give you a gift and foolishly he accepted it on the spirit that I had conveyed to him. But that we could both see that the gift had more significance and that I was trying to influence him and it drove me mad that he would withold that sense of gratitude, sense of appreciation and sense of admiration. I was furious with him for being cold and distant, unreliable and for not noticing me. Now I had dressed up put make up on, acted sultry at the same time saying this is what you can't have. "

I said that was a fun session.

I told him he still wasn't getting it. He told me to tell him but I said no.

I asked him how his mother was doing. To which he replied that was an interesting question. (I saw his family leaving before a session once- she was in a wheelchair) "why did I ask? "

To my why not- he replied with "because you know I don't talk about myself."

I then asked him, what his pin for his bank card was and what kind of kinky things was he into? That maybe I thought about him when I was alone at night.

"Was I ashamed"? no.
"should I be? - but you feel there's a sense of unfairness that I know so much about you and you know so little about me."

I told him that I didn't care about him anymore.

"because if you do care you care too much"

I told him that he was just another name to cross out. "You'd cross out everything- all the time we spent together, all the happy memories, the way I felt about him".

I questioned the happy memories- when I talked about my mother beating my brother and I. My father calling me a ***** and not being able to love me . My grandfather violating my sense of safety. That if he couldn't figure out what was wrong with me- then maybe he wasn't a good therapist after all.

Then he talked about that maybe I had been dependent on him. Only him he didn't know- but I was only thinking of the negative sides of needing someone You think it's pathetic and weak.

I told him to get back back to me when he figured out why the younger me was upset with him.

"Was this my homework- you want me to keep guessing. That it must be very liberating to hold the ace card. To have power over him. That he thought I was enjoying it".

I said so much fun, except I was poorer by X amount. If i wanted to burn money I would do it right now myself.

" I think it's useful for you to have this opportunity to put me in my place. Like show what he can't have. That he never wanted to own me. I could have a private life."

I said he was still ice cold. That he had no idea what he did.

"How can I know without you telling me?"

I said the younger me already had.

"Am i supposed to read your mind?"

I replied with- oh yes because everything is always me. That I was being ridiculous.

He asked what did I want him to say?

I shut down and became the 4 year old me for the last 15 mins. The one who had no words and can say nothing. I wanted him to say that he was sorry, but said nothing as the crying started.

What did I want to know?

I began to sob. (How he was. Could he ever love me? )

He said he wanted to be honest with me, but I had to find the courage to ask. It seemed like something he'd done had caused me great pain and upset and I couldn't bear to talk to him about it. I needed to decide if I wanted to hold on to my ace card or keep it to my chest. I couldn't win if I didn't play.

Okay S say goodbye.

I left without saying anything. (skype session as I'm not in London at the moment).

I'm not the best client when I'm purely older me, but is it so hard to get that it's not a power game. I wanted an acknowledgement that's all. I know I started this but I just wanted to say thank you for working with me.I wanted to show him that I was lucky to have him as MY therapist. But I feel like such such a fool that my gift wasn't good enough to even get a simple acknowledgement. It's about being ignored and not noticed just like with my parents and I didn't expect that from him.

Ho hum- immunology class at 7.50am class this morning.

[SalingerEsme]

Originally Posted by Lemoncake

I'm sorry about the length but things between R and me haven't been going well since I gave him a birthday gift which he didn't acknowledge and I wanted to explain as fully as I could.

I used to do twice a week therapy but dropped down to one session a week two weeks ago. After I skipped the first tuesdays session, he emailed me asking to discuss things. I sent him the following email.

"Me asking you how you were last week and not getting a reply back hurt. It illustrated the notion that my relationship with you was artificial. It felt unreal. Like it was just one sided, like so many of my other previous relationships. That you're just like them. With all the delusion in my head, I'd imagined that I was your favourite and special. That I meant something. It was also never about being thanked, but you didn't acknowledge the present I gave you- like it was nothing. I choose the book because I have a real thing about books, yet I don't have a single memory of my father ever reading to me. I thought you could read it to your baby. "

Cut to yesterdays session:

He started with hello. I asked him how he was. He choose not to reply again.
He said that I seemed different, that he could barely hear me.

I told him that maybe he wasn't listening properly.
"What would you like me to hear?" Nothing. I told him that I could have left him cold turkey, but I knew the younger part of me would cry about it for a year.

I questioned the happy memories- when I talked about my mother beating my brother and I. My father calling me a ***** and not being able to love me . My grandfather violating my sense of safety. That if he couldn't figure out what was wrong with me- then maybe he wasn't a good therapist after all.

Your post evokes the sense of therapy as a chess game during which T feels carte blanche to tell lies of omission but expects full transparency.You captured the heartache of this, and how talking about it spirals no place good.