I think addicts have broken eyes. We can’t see ourselves accurately and we mistrust others when they tell us we’re worthy. Just like the song says, my current therapist is sometimes a mirror for me.
I’ve been wanting to act out. I’m bitchy, cranky, irritable, angry and tired, tired, tired of not being able to do what I want to do. I walked into my therapist’s office yesterday feeling scared that I was going to relapse and angry that I can’t do what I want. I was a evil person with disgusting desires.
He pointed out that it makes sense that I’d have all those addictive hungers swirling around. We moved. One of my children graduated from college, I spent time with my mother, I had a big wedding anniversary, it’s difficult to get to meetings, and so forth. His words took the energy out of my self hatred. The shame that comes from wanting something I don’t want to want – that’s what fuels the addictive process and without that fuel, I can think better.
I really like my therapist. Probably I love him. He knows my entire story and sees me as a good person. He knows all the gory details of what I’ve done, knows exactly how sick my fantasies are and still sees me as a good person. My struggles make sense to him. I don’t seem to disgust him at all, which is confounding. And he helps. Today I feel good, not sex starved. I’m thinking about the stuff I need to get done around the house, putting together some storage shelves and getting all the Christmas stuff organized. That’s radically different than the shit that was going through my head yesterday.
I’m trying to trust that his vision of me is right. It doesn’t feel right, but it definitely works better.