Monday, September 8, 2014

One shade freed.

My psychiatrist used to describe the negative, depressed voice inside me telling me I’m a failure or should feel guilty as an 8-year-old girl. He asked me how I would talk to an 8-year-old child?  Would I speak to her that way?  What would I say to her?  I was always stumped by this because I didn't feel particularly like venturing into that territory--talking to another voice inside me--when I was already feeling loony-toon-crazy-depressed.

And let's be honest, my facial expressions speak volumes, and I know my face was saying, "Are you fucking with me right now?  Wait, are you really serious?  I feel a little uncomfortable... I'm smiling because I feel like this is a ridiculous question."

That was three years ago.  Since then Dr. A has figured me out.   It wasn't the kind of talk therapy this girl needed.  That shit wasn't going to work on me.  (Maybe for one session, when I was in PMDD Hell, it would be fun if he approached it like, "We're going to talk to your 8-year-old self for an hour, so let's get our crazy on."  Also if he had wine available.

The last time I talked to him, he just told me how I should be treating myself and how I should be "speaking" to myself.  Boom!  None of this, I will lead her to her own answer... a deep truth inside of her... a revelation... an awakening... if you will.  He slapped that 8-year-old girl across the face.

"Stop being so punitive in your judgments about yourself; guilt is useless; have fun; be flexible in how you think you should be and act and live, and if you aren't getting what you need to be happy--you need to find it.  You aren't crazy.  You can't hold your breath forever or at some point, you'll..."

He didn't fire all that at me in rapid succession; his advice flowed carefully around my own thoughts and descriptions, (most of which were pointing towards me thinking I should feel terribly guilty or be hospitalized for the crazies).  I walked out of his office feeling freed from something I didn't realize was binding me.  I felt like I could breathe...