Brave email

So here is the email conversation I started yesterday……….I am in italics, and Bea’s responses are in regular font.

When you asked me to sit up and said you would turn around, and then you asked what I was thinking. I couldn’t answer because there was so much running through my head: 

-no way, that is not okay

-I do not want to move right now

-if she turns around, it will feel like she is leaving me or rejecting me

-don’t be stupid

-you can’t feel like this

-this is silly, just sit up and stop this nonsense

-I don’t want to look up and see someone seeing me, listening to me, being there– that feels overwhelming–, but I don’t want her to turn around either because that feels like she is leaving me

-I’m so stupid, this is ridiculous to feel like that

-I can’t tell her all this, that’s too vulnerable, too much. 

-she’s changing everything. I hate this

-Is she watching everything I do now? She asked about my making a fist. I can’t do this. 
Thank you for sharing this. It gives us much information, and I think we should go through this list on Monday because it’s a great place to start.
Oh crud. That makes me nervous. We can go through it but just…..picking apart all my thoughts. Well, that is what makes me so scared to speak my thoughts. They’re just….ugh. I guess I am afraid of what the information is that this list gives you. 
All of that went flying through my head, and then I went away. Because I just couldn’t deal with it. Too much. And all I could manage to say was that I felt uncomfortable. Just saying that was so, so scary because it seemed like the “wrong” answer, like I was supposed to agree to what you had proposed, and I was being bad by not agreeing. And I was afraid you would be mad or disappointed, and in that moment, that felt like it would be unbearable if it happened. But I clearly couldn’t say that and be so hugely vulnerable. And then I just couldn’t stop crying for a little bit and didn’t even know why I was crying. Which makes me feel even stupider. I hate crying and feeling so sad and all overwhelmed and not knowing what I am even crying about. 
So what you didn’t mention here was my celebration of you speaking up–that to me that was huge because you expressed how you were feeling. Were you too far away to get what I was saying?  
I don’t know. I have this sort of fuzzy vague memory of you saying all you cared about was me just making a choice. I don’t know. I was far away, but also maybe waiting for disappointment or anger to show up. I’m sorry, I just don’t think it really fully registered because I was too busy being worried over not doing what I “should” and what would happen….
I thought it was awesome! To be in that scared state and actually have had a voice! You never had that voice with Kenny or the boyfriend. I didn’t care in the least if you did what I suggested–it was about however you reacted and what we could do with that.

And you asked me why I made a fist, and I was so uncomfortable that you noticed what I was doing, so self conscious, and then I couldn’t answer. (I’m not saying this so you stop adding little bits of sensorimotor stuff in. I know it is to help and it isn’t just going to be easy. But I also need to tell you how I felt…idk. I just need you to know that it felt really…I don’t have the word…something between icky and off.) And you guessed I felt like fighting, but I didn’t. But I was too…… embarrassed?… ashamed?….to say why. I made a fist because I needed to…I don’t know, I wanted to dig my nails into my palm and feel hurt for a minute. How could I say that? I’m sick with nervousness just typing this. I mean, who does that? It’s insane. 
I wasn’t consciously adding the new stuff, but I’ve been doing so much of it that it’s becoming automatic. It just makes so much sense, adding another layer of awareness beyond thoughts and feelings. I’ve always watched and been in tune, I just didn’t know there was more I could do with that. And the cool thing about this–if I guess wrong it gives you the opportunity to correct that wrong guess and say with certainty what is really going on–exactly as you wrote above. That is exactly how it is helpful!  
Well it is so scary for me to correct someone, so it doesn’t feel……okay….I don’t know. Ugh. I don’t know how to explain. It is scary to correct someone. It feels like bas things will happen. I don’t know. And sometimes it’s too scary to explain or say what is really going on. Like, I was scared to say you guessed wrong, but even more scared to say what was really going on. Part of me can agree that okay, it might be helpful, and it might be a good thing. But part of me feels like it’s not fair that this is becoming automatic because you said I was the one in control of if any of this sensorimotor stuff was added.
And it makes sense that my commenting on the fist (and it’s about the commenting, not the noticing because I’ve always noticed that stuff) would feel yucky. It’s too much exposure, too much light being shone on you. I get that.  
Well…it’s about both. For you, you have always noticed stuff, so it’s just the commenting that is new. But for me now I know you notice, so it is noticing and commenting that is new. Commenting feels like too much exposure. You do get it. But noticing feels scary too. Like now I feel like I have to filter not just my thoughts but my movements. Ugh. 


8 thoughts on “Brave email

  1. Excellent, brave, honest email!

    With a previous therapist, when I was doing the nails into the skin, instead of observing and commenting, she told me to “stop that.” Ouch, it hurts to be told that by a therapist. I’m glad Bea is so sensitive and attuned to you.


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