2009-03-04 - 1:24 p.m.
Jack's Infuriated Immaturity
Please read the entry before this one first. Thanks.
Continued...
You should realize by now there are certain things you do not talk about in therapy.
I should realize by now there are things about me that no one will ever accept or understand. There are certain things I need to keep to myself. I only cause myself more pain by trying to talk about them.
Even bringing them up because I need to "just talk" or vent, just pisses everyone off.
You would think I would have learned to know when to just keep my mouth shut.
Well sometimes I get too comfortable. Too open.
I take a few more liberties than I should. A few drinks past the limit.
Maybe I enjoy being drunk. Talking too loud and saying too much.
Put me in any kind of confessional and I am naked in a matter of seconds.
I become some sort of liberated exhibitionist that can not shut up. I share everything. I expose myself in every possible way. Until there is nothing private or personal left. Nothing is sacred. Anymore. You big fucking whore.
Later, I feel shame and remorse.
The familiar regret of having said too much.
Still this does not stop me from doing this again and again.
I need to stop giving myself away to anyone who will listen.
There are not many people left in my life that I can really talk to. Who really listen. But that doesn't mean I have to tell them everything.
The internet confessional is still here.
I have my private journals.
I have my therapist. But I realized, painfully realized, that I do not have to tell her everything. And really shouldn't.
It feels like a step backward, but I am going to take a step back.
I need my space. I need to think.
I have come now to a point where I can stop handing myself over to her to "save" and "fix." Surrendering myself to her because she knows better.
I have to remember that she is here to help me help myself. I can take this into my own hands a little more.
I can not keep handing myself to her and expecting her to do it all or even neccesarily know what to do with me. Then feeling angry, hurt or even attacked when we disagree and she gives me a dose of tough love.
When she doesn't know how else to get through to me, I think she goes into tough love mode.
Despite the fact that it makes me even more hostile and defensive.
Then she asks why am I even coming to her? At that point she does not know what to do, or even what I want her to do.
It did not take me long to realize that she is not going to coddle me. Ever.
Sometimes that is what I want, but I know I am not going to get it. I don't even expect it.
But other times, I just want her to listen. That was what I really needed yesterday.
I did not want or need to be challenged or scolded at for "thinking that way". In fact, the last thing I needed was to be shouted down from the ledge.
Do not yell at me in that tone of voice.
I felt the need to interupt and remind her that I am a defensive, passionate, hostile person at times. I get loud and angry. And I talk. Sometimes bigger and more dramatic than I need to. But that is how I make a point. That is how I express myself. In metaphors and guns.
My therapist said she doesn't think in guns.
That was her way of saying she is not hearing any more of my violent metaphors. She is not listening. She does not relate. No more guns. Find another way to say it.
It didn't stop me.
When I feel I am not being heard, I become louder and louder and more offensive until there is no way you can not hear me. You will hear me. You might not understand. You might not agree. But you will hear me.
I warned her about that too.
I am Jack's Infuriated Immaturity.
I felt backed into a corner. I could feel myself pressed into the back of my chair. Probably sitting in a way that made me look and feel bigger. But inside I felt like a cornered rat being poked with a fork.
She should know and realize how I am by now.
There has to be a way to let me burn myself out and feel better after.
Maybe escalating it and letting me get loud and pissed is her way of handling me when I get like this.
Let him fight it out in my office, he obviously wants and needs a fight. After it is all over, he'll calm down and think about it later.
Maybe I did need a fight. Maybe I needed to get pissed off.
But I did not feel better when it was over.
At one point I turned away and said I was sorry I ever brought it up.
When she asked why I was sorry, I said I was sorry to myself. And I was.
I wanted to leave.
I wanted to apologize for my attitude and just leave early.
Next week would be a new session. Unless I referred to today, it would be like it never happened.
But I stayed. And for what it is worth, this session did happen.
Next week I will probably want a feel good fluff session. Unless something earth shattering happens, I am not going to feel like getting too intense or personal.
At least for a while, I need to step back.
My level of involvement is completely up to me.
I need to start thinking more about what I want and need to get from this.
This is for me.
I need to remember that.
Jack Plays Therapist (And A Manipulative Little Shit) - 2009-03-20
Jack's Restless Secret Thoughts - 2009-03-06
If There Was, Would Jack Ever Come Back? - 2009-03-06
Jack Is Not Even At The Beginning - 2009-03-06
