Panic! I am in a right old to do. I cannot sleep. My shoulders are in agony. I can’t think straight and I have an awful sinking feeling in my stomach. What a drama and do you know what, it was the smallest thing that set me off.
I had a phone call with the Journey practitioner last week. It was our final check-in. A rounding-off. Tying up the loose ends. Mentally, I’d already done this in my head and to be honest, I wanted to get the whole thing over with as quickly as possible. I had things to do and didn’t want to waste any more time deep breathing and being asked ‘What’s there?’ I’ve done enough of that for the time being.
But there is no such thing as a ‘normal’ conversation with this woman. She asked me to take off my armour and step into a part of myself that I call ‘the void.’ I didn’t want to do this, not one bit, but well, she wasn’t up for ‘chat’ so I went along with it.
After I’d been through this process, she challenged me on something. I wouldn’t go so far as to call it a gripe, but I’d done something she saw as a transgression. It was calling my integrity into question, which matters deeply to me.
Spoiling for a fight
Now, in any normal circumstances, this challenge would have got a feisty response. I would have been combative. I’m good at that. I don’t take things lying down me and usually come out on top when there’s an argument.
But, she’d asked me to take off my armour, so there I was, at ‘war’ without my usual ammunition. I was totally defenceless and it devastated me. It felt like a wrecking ball had swung in and KABOOM! I was dust.
I can’t remember the rest of the phone call. It was like one of those movies set on a spaceship where something awful is about to happen. The alarms go off. People are running around, fruitlessly trying to batten down hatches. Bits of the ship are falling off. She’s going down.
Afterwards, I felt like shit. How could she? Why didn’t she bring this up at another time? Why did she strip down my defences and go in for the kill? What sort of a therapist is she? Isn’t this an abuse of trust? And so it went on….
My upset turned to fury. I wanted to fire off a cruel and damning e-mail, but managed to stop myself. Instead, I wrote to her and explained how I felt. I was hoping for an ‘I am sorry, I shouldn’t have done that’ but instead, was told that this was my ego, holding onto an old thought pattern.
It struck me that this uncomfortable exchange had a lesson for me, but what the hell was it?
I learned as a child that it was not safe to be vulnerable with people as they might attack you and it will really hurt. It seemed that this had just been proven. Ha, I was right all along and my instinct was to pull up the drawbridge and fill the moat with crocodiles.
The therapist offered to arrange a time for us to talk on the phone. She is the last person I want to speak to. During these sessions, she urges me into a vulnerable place. She holds all the power. She can destroy me with just a few words. Oh my fucking God, I am about to sign up for a year long mentorship programme with her – what am I thinking?? It is time to press the panic button.
I feel so exposed
This relationship is too intimate. Too intense. I don’t like it. I feel so exposed. So utterly terrified and overwhelmed. Do I really want to put myself through more of this?
And then there’s the issue of her offering to speak to me on the phone. I paid for a certain amount of time and I’ve had it. If I take any more, I feel it is undeserved. Not rightfully mine. And besides, I am not a person who asks for help. Go away. I’m fine. Fuck off. I’m strong.
But I’m not though, am I?
My feistiness is my armour. It’s there to protect the deep well of hurt that I carry. Last week’s phone call has shown me that there’s a problem here Captain and the ship needs to be fixed.
She asked me via e-mail if I was Ok with the intensity of the ride that is to come. I’m not. So what am I going to do about it? Strap myself in, close my eyes and let the roller coaster cart loose, that’s what. OMFG. Help. HELP. HELP!!!!!
No pain, no gain