I feel like I want to record this somewhere safe and I don’t want to write it in a journal and I don’t want to tell it to a friend. I feel like my everything is turned over–I’m freshly tilled soil. Completely spent. Worn. ….and getting heavy because I lost interest in exercise with the last change of medication… but that is neither here not there…. I encountered something that I just don’t understand. …..but then even that starting by trying to understand- that’s not the best way for me- not good for me to default to intellect- need to just stay close to experience…. The simple is not simple. The simple is so complex that transcendent is the best word- maybe transcendent because speculation is out of the way….. And the thoughts that make thing difficult, invite strain and the illusion of achieving an end by toil- maybe that’s all a myth. Maybe that’s a major myth behind all of my self destructive behavior. I can’t process the gift of my therapist. This is what happened– I see him a few times a week and at the end of last week I pinpointed a trigger that started a storm of thinking about si- that never feels like thinking to me- it feels more like accepting the fate of si and the approach of more and more serious behavior- it feels in my body, not in my mind… I don’t know what he was saying at the time because everything started feeling out of control- more information coming at me than I could process- I got toppled- told him to stop. Apparently, though I have been seeing him for years, I never told him that whenever we get to the point where I tell him to stop that is going to incite a storm. I don’t think I would have told him now if I had any notion that he was going to take that as something he was doing that he could handle differently- in my mind, I took total accountability- but in the session he put the accountability on himself and he seemed to assume I was seeing it that way too–was asking me what it felt like to say that. Yesterday the topic came up again. I have read that a theraputic relationship with repairs is a goal. I suppose he was out to create that experience for me. There was something I didn’t want to talk about-it was a hurt I was feeling from the appointment I’d just had with my psychiatrist- it was really fresh and I wasn’t up for talking about it but he asked how the appointment went and I did tell him that I felt uneasy about something and didn’t want to talk about it. He brought it up again later in the session to ask if I wanted to tell him about it and when I tried to dismiss it as nothing he asked me if he should just let it go. I said yes. And this is where the real heart of it all happened: He told me that- I find myself spacing out here- hard to focus- he told me that I he was asking because I told him that I felt pushed- referring to the trigger I’d shared with him- which at the time he told me was the first time I’d ever isolated a trigger- and he didn’t want to hurt me. My brain about explodes at that. I have no template for understanding it. I told him that it made no sense to me and he told me that I keep coming so I must partly believe that he wants to help me. That’s as far as we got with it in the session and it all ended with me getting spaced out and him redirecting me away from analytical work and back to the dbt skills. I’ll come back to that… after I left him I needed a long break before I could work on making my way home. It was once i started moving that it occurred to me that he sees hurting me and helping me as two different things. ..though typing it it feels wrong- that doesn’t seem very dialectic- but, actually, I think it’s true- he does see them as different. I do not have a brilliant track record of leaving abusive situations (though divorce was a brilliant score in that direction)- so it is odd that….. no- what is really really odd is that seems to see a path of ease toward healing- or ease as healing. There isn’t a place for hurting me in helping in his point of view (maybe- probably). My internal idea of a path involves lots of taunting myself with mean thoughts, physical punishment, striving– those as the motor. I just saw how clearly that is in me. To him ease is the motor. I came into this once before in the brief interaction I had with a therapist many years ago- I got a quick picture of it and thought (ha) that I had integrated it. I have years of buddhist mediation under my belt and that is all about discipline, sure, but really ease- not being thrown off by striving or pulling out or dialing out- I can think of reason after reason why the fact that my therapist really does not want to hurt me and why punishment is not a motor “should” not be news to me. But I just feel swept away by a curious, tentative awe. I cannot fathom how to respond to such consideration of me. I don’t understand being cared about. I don’t understand that caring isn’t a the same as hurting. I have scripts around hurting like “doing this for your own good” and “it hurts me more than it hurts you”–that’s childhood. Then marriage was all- I’m hurting you because I am protecting you. I hurt you in order to protect you and because I know you better than you know you. I want my therapist to protect me. So of course I expect him to hurt me- relish it even. But he came to it this little rift with totally different ideas that I don’t think he evens knows are different than mine. I didn’t know where different than mine. He saw hurting and helping as opposites…… I feel very fragile- not about posting and not the old fragile- not the fragile like breaking. More the fragile of rearranging the pieces, put them together in a new way……