No Tissues
In therapy today, for the first time, there was not a pile of tissues snotty, neatly folded and stacked, next to me on the tan arm chairs. In fact, not a single tissue was there. That's right, no crying today. So I got demoted to seeing Dr. D. once every other week instead of once a week.
We talked about how I'm doing with everything as usual. Am worried about a couple close people in my life. Am happy about going to San Diego. Am still at odds with the whole Michael situation.
Dr. D. asked me why, now, I telephone Michael. I told him because I wanted to see what he was up to. I wanted to check up on him. I wanted to, at some level, remind him of me and us and what he has lost by cheating and lying. And sometimes, I need a little tiny splash of water in the face to remind me that he is really not the person that I had made him out to be in my mind...maybe even the person he used to be. I can pretty much count on something in our converstations now reminding me of our differences, or his weaknesses, or inability to understand me, or thoughtlessness, or selfishness. There are even times now when I call him to see if wants to do something (knowing there is a 90% chance at least that he will say no) and some part of me hopes that he will say no because I'd rather be alone or with my good friends. Progress, right?
Dr. D. thought so. At least I was no longer looking for confirmation or validation from him. True, on most days. Sometimes in that time before sleep, or if I am lonely, I miss the way we used to be. But we won't be that way again. I realize that more and more I suppose. It is all part of the healing.
"So what red flags will you have for future relationships?" We have progressed to this question in therapy faster than he thought we would--faster than I thought we would, too actually. I don't really have a good answer. There are the stupid easy ones but that is not something that I have learned from the past three bad relationships. The things that are red flags now are deeper. That is where they get tricky: because they are things that don't necessarily come out for quite some time. And by the time they do come to the surface, I may have already fallen in love again. That is when it's hard to get out of the relationship: when you love the person even thought you have the little voice in your head telling you this is not quite right--not as good as it could be; not as good as you want or deserve.
"The trick," I tell Dr. D., "Will be to have enough rational thought left to get out when I feel that way. To not let myself be so governed by my emotions. That's the hard part." Especially for me, since I tend to make most decisions based on feelings more than thinking.
And we talk about how nice it is that I got my first choice for residency. That is lucky. He says that even people who get their second choice are plunged into some stage of grief about it. I don't have any of that, thankfully. I guess I would have been fine. I'm just glad I don't have to find out right now.
We talked about how I'm doing with everything as usual. Am worried about a couple close people in my life. Am happy about going to San Diego. Am still at odds with the whole Michael situation.
Dr. D. asked me why, now, I telephone Michael. I told him because I wanted to see what he was up to. I wanted to check up on him. I wanted to, at some level, remind him of me and us and what he has lost by cheating and lying. And sometimes, I need a little tiny splash of water in the face to remind me that he is really not the person that I had made him out to be in my mind...maybe even the person he used to be. I can pretty much count on something in our converstations now reminding me of our differences, or his weaknesses, or inability to understand me, or thoughtlessness, or selfishness. There are even times now when I call him to see if wants to do something (knowing there is a 90% chance at least that he will say no) and some part of me hopes that he will say no because I'd rather be alone or with my good friends. Progress, right?
Dr. D. thought so. At least I was no longer looking for confirmation or validation from him. True, on most days. Sometimes in that time before sleep, or if I am lonely, I miss the way we used to be. But we won't be that way again. I realize that more and more I suppose. It is all part of the healing.
"So what red flags will you have for future relationships?" We have progressed to this question in therapy faster than he thought we would--faster than I thought we would, too actually. I don't really have a good answer. There are the stupid easy ones but that is not something that I have learned from the past three bad relationships. The things that are red flags now are deeper. That is where they get tricky: because they are things that don't necessarily come out for quite some time. And by the time they do come to the surface, I may have already fallen in love again. That is when it's hard to get out of the relationship: when you love the person even thought you have the little voice in your head telling you this is not quite right--not as good as it could be; not as good as you want or deserve.
"The trick," I tell Dr. D., "Will be to have enough rational thought left to get out when I feel that way. To not let myself be so governed by my emotions. That's the hard part." Especially for me, since I tend to make most decisions based on feelings more than thinking.
And we talk about how nice it is that I got my first choice for residency. That is lucky. He says that even people who get their second choice are plunged into some stage of grief about it. I don't have any of that, thankfully. I guess I would have been fine. I'm just glad I don't have to find out right now.
posted by S. at 2:03 PM
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