Well, last night’s session with Dr. Steve was the most eventful one I’ve had in a while. It was tough. VERY tough. In the course of somewhat casual conversation about what’s going on in my life, we stumbled upon a HUGE issue. Just when I think I’ve run out of issues to work through, something else rears its ugly head. And this one’s a doozy. I haven’t cried that hard and fairly uncontrollably (the tears continued to stream down my face for a good portion of the ride home and are threatening just writing this post) since I first started with the psychologist at work and cried for 3 hours straight. This wasn’t quite that bad, of course. That first visit opened up floodgates that I had kept closed with straps of iron for a long time. However, finding another deep-seeded nugget that needs to be worked through was painful. I’ve been feeling better recently, so it really caught me by surprise.
We were talking about an impending visit to Salt Lake City that Terry and I will be making the third week of March (hopefully my ONS customers will understand). It’s a work thing, so that Terry can not only attend a business conference, but present two sessions, as well. It turns out that he and his colleague are on the forefront of what’s being done with some of this technology, so they have been asked to speak at the conference. So, I was saying that I had a little bit of anxiety about the trip because I was afraid of being bored, etc. Well, sharp and extremely observant guy that he is, Dr. Steve saw a hint of something more underlying my comments that I didn’t even realize was lurking there. He skillfully brought the conversation back around to the trip and why I was nervous about it and WHAM! Instant tear production. We know he’s hit on something when that happens.
What he ends up wheedling out of me is that I am desperately afraid of being alone. Not just for the week while Terry’s in the conference (I am not attending, but will stay in the hotel), but in my life in general. I have unnaturally terrible anxiety about the prospect of losing Terry (death, divorce or whatever) and that extends to Phoebe, as well. I mean, we’re talking going over and over detailed plans in my head of what I would do if I didn’t have Terry in my life. And not sleeping well because I’m paying attention to the dog’s breathing. Etc.
This fear is one of those things that I had come to accept about myself as simply being a part of who I am. It wasn’t until we touched on it last night that I realized that it is not normal. Unfortunately, it came up close to the end of our session, so Dr. Steve walked me through some cognitive therapy exercises to get me calmed down so that I could leave. It’s funny how he has to remind me to breathe when I’m having a crying jag. If you think of it, next time you have a particularly emotional spell, see if you’re breathing. You might be surprised at how effective that can be, if you can manage it.
Anyway, that will be a topic for future discussion. In the meantime, the result of last night’s session is that I feel emotionally and physically exhausted. I ache, my eyes are still swollen and I just seriously do not want to be here at work right now. If I didn’t have an orthodontist appointment this evening that’s a lot close to work than to my house, I would take a half day vacation and skip out of here after lunch. I still need to tough it out another 4 hours, though, despite my complete lack of focus or desire to do anything but sleep for a little while.
As I told Dr. Steve as I was leaving, it’s hard work, but I know I’m working hard when I come out of a session with my face all red and splotchy. 😆
