Well, I had my first session with Deborah today. I had sent her an email summarizing the most recent doings that led to me seeking counseling, and I mentioned the 'needing to talk talk talk' thing. I didn't end up explaining it very well because it's difficult to organize the concept and I've been so depressed (literally) that I could barely write at all.
We didn't really talk about the talking -- she went over the email and clarified the recent events -- but I would say I did more talking than I did last Friday. But I still felt some frustration when she would break in to make observations about what I was saying. Of course I had already realized everything she mentioned, which was why I would have just preferred to keep talking. But I knew that she does not yet know what you know which is that I figure a lot of this stuff out myself.
I did what you suggested, not making the next appointment yet, and I'm really glad I did. Although I felt much better when I left, it didn't take long for me to realize that it wasn't necessarily her that was the cause of that -- I think it was the talking. She's fine to work with, but if just talking is going to help that much (what I expected), why train someone in the phenomenon that is Nancy Memovich when I already have people who know me already.
I've noticed how you (Michael, too) have changed your behavior since I've been talking about feeling the need to be listened to, to be received. I hope you understand how much that means to me. During a couple of our latest phone conversations, you asked me if you could break in to say something. And then the last one where you actually went silent on me (Twilight Zone theme here). It made me feel both respected and cared for. Thank you.
I was wondering if you would call me when you get the chance. There's something I'd like to talk to you about.
Besides all that, some recent insights:
Not only did I not bond with my mother, I imprinted on the bottle. That explains the oral fixation. What I realized just today is that when I try cut back on my calorie-dense comfort gooshy foods, not only does my body think it's starving and kicks in cravings, etc., but I'm also suffering from a sense of abandonment! My bottle, my only source of love, is being taken away from me! So every time I try to change my eating habits, I start to suffer from abandonment issues. I have no idea how to go about dealing with that since it's so new. I've never thought about abandonment before because my parents were always there!
When I was young, the closest I came to my true being was when I was a born-again Christian in total belief in the basic goodness of all people and I was drawn to people who looked like they needed someone to talk to. The one time I had an answer to my dad's question of what do you want to be when you grow up, I said a social worker. "Aaangh, you can't make a living doing that." Full circle now?
My empathic sense of others began because my dad (God) expected us to know what he was thinking, how to do everything, never ask questions, and never know anything he didn't know. What happened if we screwed up? A disgusted look and a disgusted tone of voice. Surprising how very powerful something so non-tangible can be.
When I popped out of that two-week intense warrior breaking-patterns training, I rebounded so hard that I've regressed back to at least 2009. When I figured this out, I relaxed a little. This current quagmire is temporary and I won't even have to start again from where I was then. I've learned so much since then. But I think figuring that out helped me feel a lot better.
Can't remember any more right now. Hope to talk to you soon,
Nancy
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