Therapy has been a major part of my life. Starting with my mother's depression when I was 13. Mostly, I have been a therapist throughout my life. To be accepted as a licensed therapist, I had to be in therapy myself - mainly to keep my "stuff" clear from my patients but also to know what therapy feels like from inside. Of course, it was also because I needed it.
We are all wounded children. We have the healed scars to show for it but some people still bleed and have scabs that they pick to let the bleeding continue - see! I am hurting.
I love your therapist (much as I love everyone). He is empathetic but relentless in pointing to wounds that still need to be healed. Your tears wash the wounds clean so that they can finally heal to faint scars.
Thank you, Uncle Ray. I’ll pass your regards to Mick. He’s a good egg, that kid. So good it’s hard for me to resist the urge to want to be his friend too. But I respect and understand the need for professional boundaries. Even if I don’t exactly like them, I appreciate how focused he’s able to be without all the messiness of being friends with clients. Mixing business and friendships is rarely a good idea….
Also, thank you for sharing your experience with therapy, on both sides of the room.
As for professional boundaries, they work both ways. I have liked some patients very much. I have become friends with ex-clients/patients but not until years later, after the therapy has ended. Mainly when I have met them at a social occasion, unexpectedly for both of us.
I think I have too, Uncle Ray. Mick is a young whipper snapper, but gifted and wise beyond his years. I hope once we conclude our session work, we can grab coffee on occasion. He’s a good guy and has already made a big impact on the quality of my life.
I have always been attracted to young men - not only romantically and erotically. I suspect that it is quite narcissistic in that they remind me of myself at their age - especially when they are bright and empathetic. I am sure that I would love him.
If Mick is to follow orthodoxy, he will be aware that your relationship has always been therapist and client before the conclusion. Having coffee is likely to be contaminated with you continuing to "client" and him "counselling". He would then say, "No. We can't have coffee - yet. We need to let our previous relationship fade considerably. It will take at least 3 months, probably longer."
I said this many times to clients, students, people that I have had casual sex with, people I have only directed in plays. You need to form friendships anew and not risk the continuation of the previous relationship.
I am advising patience. It won't be a rejection, if he wants you both to wait.
Oh, I’m in no rush. And we’re far from being done with our work in the room. I’m not attracted to Mick in any conventional way, but the deep empathy and understanding he expresses is something I’d like to know on a platonic, non-professional level at some point. If he’s even interested. I do understand and respect the professional boundaries. And I’m also apt to push and test them too…it’s in my nature as a trickster. :-p Hugs, Uncle Ray!
Transference and counter-transference can be a necessary part of analytical psychotherapy - another eeson why therapists have their own continuous therapy sessions.
You and MIck seem to be alright and he is not following depth analytic theory.
After a pause, when your sessions end, I think he will happily agree.
Yay for therapy! I'm glad it's helping you. I can vouch for it - my own upbringing in a rural, fundie-infested town, undiagnosed AuDHD exacerbating my 'differences' from my destined-for-MAGAism peers and their bullying/mockery; dark unspoken family history that nonetheless made 'home' a place of isolation and weird vibes (and when the secrets all started blasting forth - hooowhee); and then years later the death of The Great Love Of My Life in '95 - all combined into a very bleak state of cPTSD which finally, a decade ago, resulted in implosion (after pushing myself too hard going back to uni and finishing a double-lit degree, reading 5-6 books a week, writing two papers per week as well, &c &c nonstop for four years). I hit what we now know was 'major autistic burnout' and went away for an ... erm, stay in Casa del Cray-Cray in a severe depressive/exhausted fit. But out of it all, I eventually found a fanTAStic therapist who's been guiding me through reconstructing myself, rebuilding who I am (or was, before getting pummelled too much). It took something like 5-6 years (being put on a poorly-chosen wacko-med by a former doc for 7 years didn't help any) to finally be able to break down walls and at last confront my cPTSD Ground Zero - my lover's death - last year around this time. Like you, I do better writing things out than thinking/discussing them, so (with my thurpist's advice) I wrote out this confrontation with memory and sent it to said thurpist, reliving/trying to recall what happened day by day in the last week or two of his life (the days coinciding exactly - or as close to it as I could manage - with the same date 30 years ago when as he was dying). It was beyond gutwrenching, but it workt: as in, it opened up long-walled-off memories and emotions. Only problem is, now able to feel them again, the emotions are at high tide right now, since it's now a year since that breakthrough and thus once more the anniversary of those dark days. But I know it's something I need to reincorporate into 'myself' rather than hide/avoid it. (Not to do a free plug for my own Substack, but - mostly for my own sake - I've been rereading/editing/rewriting-in-parts that year-old memoir and have been posting the entries, if'n you'd like to take a look at a spiritual reconstruction in progress ... if probably a perpetual rebuilding for the rest of my life.) But anyway, I'm being long-winded again. Congrats on entering therapy - as you said, burying and avoiding traumatic things past just allows them to grow even more monstrous in the shadows. Eventually ya gotta go back and not necessarily slay, but tame those dragons as best you can. Best of luck wisht to you.
Thanks, Yuri, for sharing some of your journey with me and the crew. My condolences on your loss and my best wishes on your continued recovery. One of the book recommendations my therapist gave me is Brene Brown’s ATLAS OF THE HEART. We’re using the emotional definitions as a framework to revisit some good, bad, and ugh-ly people and events in my life. Like everything, it’s not a one-size-fits-all “fix” but I love how discussing what some of the emotions mean helps me see them from a very different point of view. Deeper and somehow less personal. Cheers!
So true. Maybe I’ll send out a GoFundMe to help with the expenses. It’s so worth it, but definitely not cheap. :-p
That said, I wouldn’t give nothing for my smartie with a heartie therapist. Or my friends who listen to all my shite. All are worth their weight in gold. :-*
🌈🌀
🌈🍻
Therapy has been a major part of my life. Starting with my mother's depression when I was 13. Mostly, I have been a therapist throughout my life. To be accepted as a licensed therapist, I had to be in therapy myself - mainly to keep my "stuff" clear from my patients but also to know what therapy feels like from inside. Of course, it was also because I needed it.
We are all wounded children. We have the healed scars to show for it but some people still bleed and have scabs that they pick to let the bleeding continue - see! I am hurting.
I love your therapist (much as I love everyone). He is empathetic but relentless in pointing to wounds that still need to be healed. Your tears wash the wounds clean so that they can finally heal to faint scars.
Thank you, Uncle Ray. I’ll pass your regards to Mick. He’s a good egg, that kid. So good it’s hard for me to resist the urge to want to be his friend too. But I respect and understand the need for professional boundaries. Even if I don’t exactly like them, I appreciate how focused he’s able to be without all the messiness of being friends with clients. Mixing business and friendships is rarely a good idea….
Also, thank you for sharing your experience with therapy, on both sides of the room.
Much love and light always!
You have found a good one, Brian.
As for professional boundaries, they work both ways. I have liked some patients very much. I have become friends with ex-clients/patients but not until years later, after the therapy has ended. Mainly when I have met them at a social occasion, unexpectedly for both of us.
I think I have too, Uncle Ray. Mick is a young whipper snapper, but gifted and wise beyond his years. I hope once we conclude our session work, we can grab coffee on occasion. He’s a good guy and has already made a big impact on the quality of my life.
I have always been attracted to young men - not only romantically and erotically. I suspect that it is quite narcissistic in that they remind me of myself at their age - especially when they are bright and empathetic. I am sure that I would love him.
If Mick is to follow orthodoxy, he will be aware that your relationship has always been therapist and client before the conclusion. Having coffee is likely to be contaminated with you continuing to "client" and him "counselling". He would then say, "No. We can't have coffee - yet. We need to let our previous relationship fade considerably. It will take at least 3 months, probably longer."
I said this many times to clients, students, people that I have had casual sex with, people I have only directed in plays. You need to form friendships anew and not risk the continuation of the previous relationship.
I am advising patience. It won't be a rejection, if he wants you both to wait.
Oh, I’m in no rush. And we’re far from being done with our work in the room. I’m not attracted to Mick in any conventional way, but the deep empathy and understanding he expresses is something I’d like to know on a platonic, non-professional level at some point. If he’s even interested. I do understand and respect the professional boundaries. And I’m also apt to push and test them too…it’s in my nature as a trickster. :-p Hugs, Uncle Ray!
Great! Then we are aligned.
Transference and counter-transference can be a necessary part of analytical psychotherapy - another eeson why therapists have their own continuous therapy sessions.
You and MIck seem to be alright and he is not following depth analytic theory.
After a pause, when your sessions end, I think he will happily agree.
Yay for therapy! I'm glad it's helping you. I can vouch for it - my own upbringing in a rural, fundie-infested town, undiagnosed AuDHD exacerbating my 'differences' from my destined-for-MAGAism peers and their bullying/mockery; dark unspoken family history that nonetheless made 'home' a place of isolation and weird vibes (and when the secrets all started blasting forth - hooowhee); and then years later the death of The Great Love Of My Life in '95 - all combined into a very bleak state of cPTSD which finally, a decade ago, resulted in implosion (after pushing myself too hard going back to uni and finishing a double-lit degree, reading 5-6 books a week, writing two papers per week as well, &c &c nonstop for four years). I hit what we now know was 'major autistic burnout' and went away for an ... erm, stay in Casa del Cray-Cray in a severe depressive/exhausted fit. But out of it all, I eventually found a fanTAStic therapist who's been guiding me through reconstructing myself, rebuilding who I am (or was, before getting pummelled too much). It took something like 5-6 years (being put on a poorly-chosen wacko-med by a former doc for 7 years didn't help any) to finally be able to break down walls and at last confront my cPTSD Ground Zero - my lover's death - last year around this time. Like you, I do better writing things out than thinking/discussing them, so (with my thurpist's advice) I wrote out this confrontation with memory and sent it to said thurpist, reliving/trying to recall what happened day by day in the last week or two of his life (the days coinciding exactly - or as close to it as I could manage - with the same date 30 years ago when as he was dying). It was beyond gutwrenching, but it workt: as in, it opened up long-walled-off memories and emotions. Only problem is, now able to feel them again, the emotions are at high tide right now, since it's now a year since that breakthrough and thus once more the anniversary of those dark days. But I know it's something I need to reincorporate into 'myself' rather than hide/avoid it. (Not to do a free plug for my own Substack, but - mostly for my own sake - I've been rereading/editing/rewriting-in-parts that year-old memoir and have been posting the entries, if'n you'd like to take a look at a spiritual reconstruction in progress ... if probably a perpetual rebuilding for the rest of my life.) But anyway, I'm being long-winded again. Congrats on entering therapy - as you said, burying and avoiding traumatic things past just allows them to grow even more monstrous in the shadows. Eventually ya gotta go back and not necessarily slay, but tame those dragons as best you can. Best of luck wisht to you.
Thanks, Yuri, for sharing some of your journey with me and the crew. My condolences on your loss and my best wishes on your continued recovery. One of the book recommendations my therapist gave me is Brene Brown’s ATLAS OF THE HEART. We’re using the emotional definitions as a framework to revisit some good, bad, and ugh-ly people and events in my life. Like everything, it’s not a one-size-fits-all “fix” but I love how discussing what some of the emotions mean helps me see them from a very different point of view. Deeper and somehow less personal. Cheers!
Clint. Sounds good. Remember to look at your poster prompts. “Small successes piled up like a poo emoji. “ Fondly Michael
Yessir! Reminds me of a greeting me and a co-worker used to have almost daily:
Me: How are you, boo?
Her: Bah.
Me. Meh.
Her: Poo!
And then we’d laugh like kiddos and get our work day started. Good times!
So true. Maybe I’ll send out a GoFundMe to help with the expenses. It’s so worth it, but definitely not cheap. :-p
That said, I wouldn’t give nothing for my smartie with a heartie therapist. Or my friends who listen to all my shite. All are worth their weight in gold. :-*