It’s back to two weeks now, for me to go back to my therapist. Maybe that means what he says is true. That I’m doing better. I can’t see the forrest through the trees, that’s for sure. Anyway, this gives me time to get back out there by my own means and stop relying on him and our weekly Friday sessions for feedback and validation. I still wish I knew what he actually thought about me. He has all of this information. Private information about me.

I told him that I still feel really nervy every time I have to go in there. Oftentimes hoping I don’t see his car in the lot and I can get out of it. Yeah, right… Like that’s going to happen. The only way that can happen is if I choose to not walk in the door. I outright asked him last session what he thought I was so nervy about. He thought it was vulnerability. Damn it! I hate the thought of that. Probably because he’s right. He thinks it’s necessary to feel vulnerable for therapy to actually work. He also thought that me feeling vulnerable might be because I’m afraid that he will leave me, like move out West as he sometimes talks about. So I told him he made me nervous, and again took that as a compliment! Therapy is definitely weird. Either that or he is! I know I am. I mean, as much as I hate feeling nervy during the week, and more and more so leading up to crossing the threshold of his door, I’m already missing our time this week (and it’s only Monday). I wan’t him gone, but I don’t want him to leave! Maybe I should talk to someone else about this…?

I truly do not understand what this dichotomy is all about. Make no mistake, I feel just as strongly towards both, so it’s impossible for me to easily figure out. I want him GONE. Out of my life, wish I never met him gone. Angry, resentful and hate him type of gone. And that’s just plain awful of me! I clearly like him very much as a person. We have both said to one another at some point in time that we would be friends outside of therapy. How can I admit to hating him then? It must be the inner child petulantly rearing her little head in defiance. Yes… That’s it… That’s it, because she also fears abandonment. She fears the power he has over her. She hates being powerless herself… Now I’m getting somewhere. This makes sense to me… because the other side of this is the overwhelming reliance upon him. Dependent yes. Sometimes downright clingy.

Wow. He really is digging down deep. Only he isn’t digging, I’m just emptying everything out of my purse onto the table. I’m just letting loose all kinds of things I’d never talk to anyone about. I’ve told him this, so I do realize it. He keeps repeating to me that I do have a mood disorder. It’s not a big deal but I am moody, so he observes. God that’s never going to end! People!