My favorite show of all time, Friends, has been my therapy this weekend. Phoebe is my interim therapist.
I fully expected that I’d wake up this morning and the anger I’d felt all day yesterday would be gone and I’d be over it. It’s not, I’m not. I’m still angry. And now I’m angry and grieving at the same time. I just want to collapse (ideally in T’s office), but since I’m starting my new job in the morning, I need to muster so much (fake-ish) confidence right now that it’s going to kill me.
I’ve considered calling my T the entire weekend. Almost every minute of it. I’m afraid I’m overreacting due to the stress from my job, so I’ve compromised with myself that if I’m still feeling like crap from the bottom of the sewer after Monday, then I will call T. I have to call anyway to schedule a session, but considering she doesn’t offer evening sessions and I’m not in the position to ask for extra time at lunch – I may have to go without a session for a while.
So, I was laying in bed this morning right after I woke up, and I started to imagine what my T would say when I told her that I was angry (gasp!).
It goes something like this:
Me: So, I’m angry with my mother and it’s freaking me out.
T starts to clap frantically and jump up and down in her seat like a little kid before calming down and asking me to continue.
I bask in her happiness for a minute and then proceed to cry for the rest of the session.
Ok, that’s (more than likely, probably, definitely) not how it will happen. But I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s suppressing that reaction in her head.
Hopefully I can hold it together until..whenever. My imaginary sessions might have to do for a while. Maybe I should work on giving imaginary T a bit more empathy.