10:01 p.m. - 08/06/03
are you out there? / can you hear this?
Heiz's comment is really getting to me. Granted, pretty much everything is managing to get to me these days. Mom asked me if it's weird not to have an appointment with the doc tomorrow; I told her I don't really have a handle on what day it is (so it doesn't feel odd not to see him for the first Thursday in some time), but I certainly wouldn't mind if I did have the chance to talk to him. I don't know what to do. I feel like every other time things have been this complicated or intense I've talked to him more often, either with an extra session or with phone calls, but I also feel like I need to be less dependent. Like I need to be able to do this more on my own because eventually that's the goal, isn't it? I'm supposed to need doctors less and less... Maybe I just think that because I've kept myself from seeing Tammy all this time, thinking that I need to trust my own judgment around food and not run to her for weigh-ins and nods of approval every few weeks. I know it's not like that with the doc; I have real work that I need to do yet...I guess I feel that, since I'm capable of getting through the week only talking to him once, I should leave it at that. Never mind that I slept for half of today and mindlessly unraveled the rest.
He scared me, you know. He said that Monday we're going to work on a self-care list, and the healthy part of me wants to believe he was telling me that so I could calm down and not feel like the awful place I was in Monday was permanent...but the obsessive part of my brain is saying that I'm not taking good care of myself, and he's noticing that, and so he feels the need to push in my face all the things I'm doing wrong so I can fix them. And I don't even know I'm doing them wrong. I feel like he's going to attack all of my habits - the way I eat, sleep, spend the day. And it's so stupidly uncharacteristic of him. But then, when did obsessive thoughts ever have to be rational?
Heiz's comment. Or rather, Heiz's insinuation. I don't know how to explain it, exactly, but there was this tone in his e-mail that left me feeling as if he'd said, "You're one pretty sick kid, and I'm worried that you identify yourself too much with that sickness. Do you even know who you are outside of it?" It's left me feeling really awkward. Ok, I poured some pretty intense feelings on him yesterday, when I was upset about the divorce - I said things I probably should have said here, or to a close friend, or better yet, to Dr. R. But I'm not his student or his client or his ward. He's not in a position where he's supposed to take care of me, so what is all this, "I'm worried" bullshit? He doesn't even know me yet. That's what so freaky. I've been thinking about it more and more and realizing that because I had him as a teacher, I assumed he was healthy. He's told me he's not. He's told me he's going through some tough shit and has reentered therapy himself. But I keep assuming that he's more capable of handling this relationship correctly than I am. But I do know his role is not to take care of me. And my role is not to get sick and let him or to pretend that I'm this epitome of health and recovery. I don't want any of that shit. I just want someone to talk to...
I tried to explain to him about my identity, and how I do know who I am. I know who I am essentially, and sometimes am really aligned with that, and I know who I am in terms of traits and quirks and preferences. I know myself more and more, everyday. And yeah, I do talk a lot about illness; it's a huge part of my life. Recovery from illness is a huge part of my life, and recovery from illness is the only reason I know myself at all. It's the only reason I know myself as well as I do, which I think is damn well, especially considering. And I'm sorry that talking about what I know because of my experience with illness sometimes sounds more like talking about illness. I'm sorry that every conversation I have isn't nourish's trigger-free wisdom. But I feel like he accused me of being who I was three years ago, of being sick and clueless, when honestly, I know myself and my strengths far better than most people I know. Maybe better than he knows his own. I just want him to understand that.
I just want to get my footing in this relationship, look up and find we're finally on equal ground. And I want to slowly understand how we relate to each other; we know we have a hell of a lot in common, but I don't think either of us knows how we relate, yet. And some of the things he's saying are so awkward to me - I feel compelled to act like we're really close or like we're very much teacher/ student, neither of which is right, really...I wish we could just take our time. He called me "dear friend." That's a beautiful thing to be called, but it's been like three e-mails each. Call me traumatized, but we're still in shiny packages practicing small talk. We don't know each other yet.
...There's more I wanted to say - on a different subject...but I don't want to go into it now. My head might explode on the fluff of my pillow, and that wouldn't be good. Messy. I'd rather just pretend it didn't occur to me for a few more hours.
I need to know if it's ok for my biggest accomplishments to be a shower and a quick trip out for some liquid sugar. I need the doctor to tell me that I'm not a horrible self-caregiver, simply because depression has decided to play its little mindgames in my rompus room again...
chord <--who doesn't really use the term "rompus room" and doubts she spelled it right
