Therapeutic Thursday

I had my weekly therapy session yesterday. I’m definitely learning some things about myself and my childhood family dynamics which help explain why I’m prone to eating disorders as well as depression and social isolation. It’s starting to make sense why I never had a desire to have children; why I don’t really have a relationship with my only brother; and even why I prefer animals to people as “friends.” I really don’t have any close friends to speak of. I have many work acquaintances, of course, and everyone seems to like me, but I never go anywhere or do anything with the group. No one really knows anything except the most superficial facts about me.

I’m realizing I never let myself be “authentic” (as Dr D calls it) with anybody, even my husband. There are so many personal things, both past and current, that my husband doesn’t know about me. Even though he is a really kind person and has never been abusive and in fact his help was one of the reasons I was able to recover from bulimia…subconsciously I always expect to be abused, or yelled at, or rejected, if he knew the “authentic” me. So I am secretive about much of what I do. Not that I’m doing anything bad or wrong, but even for good things, I expect to receive ridicule or rejection. If I tell him something about myself that I might be proud of, I’m expecting him to say “Oh, who do you think you are?” “You think you are so smart but you’re really just nothing,” or “You’re just showing off, get over yourself.”

He doesn’t even know I’m in therapy or taking anti-depressants. Although logically I know he would be supportive, I have so much fear of being vulnerable with anyone. If he knew about that stuff, maybe he would laugh at me, or tell me to just get over it, or ask why are you spending so much money on therapy? Not that he would really do that, but that’s my expectation deep down; because that’s what I grew up with. And it literally causes me panic inside to think about telling him some of my “secrets.” When I say this stuff out loud in therapy or write about it here, it sounds so pathetic. But I have such an ingrained fear of exposing myself, I don’t feel truly safe with anyone.

Whenever Dr D and I start talking about these things, my sense of grief and loss for what could have been is sometimes overwhelming. When I go in, I never mean to cry, but sometimes I end up crying so hard that it hurts physically. At this last session, I was reflecting on when I was a little girl, how I would stand outside the playground and watch the kids play. I wanted to play too, but I was sure I’d be made fun of by the other kids. So I would just go and play by myself. When I think about these things, my heart literally feels as if it is breaking. I feel so sad for that little girl who got so used to rejection at home that she became afraid of being rejected by everyone. It was just easier to be alone.

It is painful to realize that my life so far has been made up of wasted opportunities for true relationships. But I’m so afraid of letting people into my life, and for showing people who I really am. I’m not feeling sorry for myself…but writing it out and “putting myself out there” to the blogging world helps me process what I’m experiencing. This is the place where I feel as if I’m the most truthful I’ve ever been, and you bloggers are the closest I’ve ever come to having friends who know the real me.

Yes, I’m going to keep working on this. And the BDD thing…well, “that’s a whole ‘nother story” as they say. I’ll share more of what’s up with that another time.

I hope everyone is having a good Thursday. I’m looking forward to sleeping late tomorrow and walking B if the weather cooperates. Take care.