Wednesday, 6 January 2010

Rip Van Winkle

I think there is something wrong with me (no shit!). I slept for 15 hours last night. Well, and today. I was asleep by 1am (very early for me), and woke up quite a few times in the night, but then slept through until 4pm. I am aware that this is absurd. And that I now won't be able to sleep tonight and will spend the night awake thinking about killing myself. Joy. I am so frustrated with myself over it, I am just dreading being awake all night.

I have been thinking about keeping a food diary. I have always loathed doing this when being asked to by professionals, as I hate writing it when I feel I have written too much, as seeing it on the page makes me feel even more guilty, but this is the reason why I am now thinking about doing it. In the hopes that it will make me think more before I eat. Unfortunately, what would be more likely to happen, is that if I ate something I didn't write down then I would either conveniently forget about it and leave it off the list, or decide to stop doing the whole thing. I need some fucking control over something.

I got on ok yesterday with L, except it was too bloody short, and I didn't get to talk about a lot of things I wanted to. Since we generally run over time I have almost come to expect it, and so was rather frustrated that she was seeing someone else after me as that meant I couldn't have any extra time. Although we did still run 10 mins over. Needy and demanding much? She said we could make future appointments for an hour and a half, as although we often run to this anyway, this way I would know that I had an hour and a half from the start etc, so we have done that for next week.

We talked about the theraputic relationship and our relationship, which we had also touched on the previous time I saw her, as part of my writing in the week before that had been about http://couched.wordpress.com/2008/08/21/unfortunate-truths-about-therapy/ some part of this post on the theraputic relationship which bothered me, particularly;

- You will probably never know what your therapist "really thinks"

- They will not say they like you (and even if they do you will not know if it is true)

- This is just a professional relationship

- Your therapist will never be your friend.

Naturally this bothered me as it fed right into my attachment issues. We talked about it though, and she said that although it was obviously a theraputic relationship, she also felt that it was a 'real' relationship, and that we genuinely get on well, to which I said that she could just be saying that, and it bothered me that she might hate seeing me, but she couldn't very well say that she thought I was a horrible person and that she dreaded our sessions as it wasn't terribly professional. She said that I am an intelligent girl, and she thought that I would know pretty fast if she didn't like me, and also that we wouldn't have the kind of relationship that we do if she didn't genuinely like me, and that you can tell if somebody cares about you. She also said that if the situation was different, and we knew each other outside of a therapist - patient relationship then she thought we would get on very well, and have lots to talk about etc. This did reassure me. I always think that we do get on well - we have a lot in common, and very similar senses of humour etc, but I am always worried that people are actually thinking that I am a pain in the arse and wanting to get rid of me. She also pointed out that we had actually chosen to work with each other, and that if she hadn't wanted to work with me then she wouldn't have. (That is a long story, which I may or may not go into at another time, but basically I had to see someone shit, that I didn't trust or get on with for quite a long time, due to NHS politcs, and male ego). I didn't really talk much about how things are for me at the moment, but I know that I can always call and talk to her during office hours if I need to, and hopefully if things get any worse, or I feel more at risk then I will. It is worse when the really bad patches are at nights or weekends, as I am far less likely to call anyone then, as it will mean talking to someone I don't know and don't trust, and they are more likely to make me do something I don't want to do, like go to A&E for assessment or involve the CRHT, whereas I know that L will talk to me about it all, and help me to calm down, and that she won't panic and order me to go to A&E like the shit guy I saw before her did - I couldn't even bloody mention the word suicidal without being sent off to A&E - there were many hours wasted there!

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