About transference. The kind where you need to learn to love yourself.
I listen to this song and visualize the good of what was happening in therapy. The part that I needed [maybe] most.
Christina Perri: A thousand years
I see myself sitting in the waiting room.
My therapists comes out where he usually does, sometimes looking a little ragged and worn down sometimes looking just normal. I am happy to see him, always. I smile at him, standing there alone. He returns the smiles with the light in his eyes that I love to see.
As I walk toward him it becomes apparent that he is holding a mirror the mirror that then turns into a full length mirror and I am there alone staring at myself.
My smile disappears as I realize he has disappeared. I look behind the mirror and then back into the mirror.
He is there, in the mirror with his hand outstretched. I take his hand and he pulls me through the mirror. He turns me around to face myself again, this time I'm looking at myself from the other side of the mirror. I turn back to my therapist but he points me once again to face myself.
I then see myself the way my therapist has been trying to help me see myself.
I see that I am worth loving and I am beautiful in my own way. I see that it is okay to love my perfectly imperfect self, and even that I have and can continue to.
I walk out the front side of the mirror rejoining my real self and my therapist walks out the back.
I think this is how the story is supposed to end.
...But in my story, I looked back.
...But in my story, I looked back.
and I noticed the pain in my therapist's eyes as I looked back. I trusted his strength, but I also felt his hesitation to turn me around and his vulnerability as he leaned just slightly on me. I felt his fear and his pain as he then carefully pushed me away to regain his own footing. I realized how hard his job is. Unfortunately, he didn't notice that my concern for him had distracted me, and my split self had not fully rejoined the me that was walking away strong.
And as he left to retreat back to his office the mirror fell and shattered and the now split me is left facing the closed door he escaped through while strong me doesn't make it too far before the unaddressed brain damage and reality of the split takes me down and I am left into a millions pieces of shiny glass- glass that was supposed to melt and fade away as we both went our seperate ways- but that I am now stuck in, alone and wondering what I did wrong and how to fix it. How to put my millions of tiny pieces, now etched with his name on them, back together so that I can have me again. So that I can rejoin and reclaim the new and better me that was supposed to walk strong and imperfectly perfected.
...."you can listen to it while you cry yourself to sleep tonight" I say but it's not about him at all, I am speaking of myself; evidence of how enmeshed and entangled I am in this complex psychological web.
... I don't think about that part when I listen to this song. Rather, I try to see the whole me and leave with that me fully intact, loving myself for a thousand years and loving my therapist as my past therapist and simply that.
Maybe I need to listen to it more.
Or maybe less.
But mostly I need to accept and love the me that I am, broken into brilliantly shiny pieces or not.
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