Integrating

I decided to be completely open in my last counselling session: no games, no resistance, just answering honestly. It was better than that.

Early on, I found myself expatiating on evidence based medicine. Sit back, crossed legs. This is not what I want. I sit forward, legs slightly apart, left elbow resting on left leg, palm up. Open. I want to be Open.

I want to be open all the time. I want to be this open, and- playful. I want to integrate that discussion mode with this, so that I slip between them and mixtures of them, rather than the effort of changing- it really feels it is an effort, an act of courage. It needs practice. I talk to her, openly, but with eyes closed and slowly, and in a higher register of my voice- here is the ultra-femininity of my Real Self.

Later, I get upset. I feel [word], [word], [word]- Rejected. “Rejected” took effort. Ah. It is a judgment. Notice that, how hard it is. I am judging others, things outside me.

We talk about previous counselling. My last long series of sessions ended in 2009 with “The monster will get me”. That is child-language, says Yvonne. Well, yes, it is my mother- and since then I have moved on, I see that she really did her best. I have forgiven her.

Look after yourself, she says. No. The shell is my protection, a wall through which I cannot touch another, or be touched. I want to get rid of it completely. I am Safe– until I am not: in the world we are OK, generally, our fear gets in the way.

What do you have to look forward to?
-I am going camping.

 I want to work on my self-acceptance and integration.

Ah! I have a desire! Something I Want! Not as a means to an end, but as an end in itself. Hope would be hope for the wrong thing- work on this, a bit, and maybe I will want something else.

Could I see her again? She will speak to Dr Lambert- but she reformulates this until it is just, she would see me again if the GP and I both think it worthwhile, which is trite.

Godfrey said it is good to have a structure: he has a day out each week. I could not afford to go to the V&A for a day out- or I could, but the money might run out. He thinks in my doldrums I could consider voluntary work. Mmm. I will go on as I am, for a bit.

I leave, feeling quite good. I find you can get to the lock by going past the Diamond centre, and go to take photographs.