Therapy today was torturous.
I’d been planning to talk more about this flipping between okay around people and significantly depressed alone. I’d mentioned it last week, but I get the impression NT1.0 thought I was just talking about normal mood fluctuations. I wanted to clarify and talk more about it.
Instead I switched to someone younger, and I’m not sure who or why. On the bus ride there, I was getting more and more anxious, and by the time I got to her waiting room, I wasn’t me. I could see what was happening, but I wasn’t in the driver’s seat. Whoever it was didn’t feel safe out of the apartment and had my body all scrunched up to be smaller and less noticeable.
Apparently NT noticed right off that something was off. As soon as we sat down, she asked if I was okay. I nodded.
“Are you sure? You seem different. What’s going on?”
“I don’t know,” whoever was out kept answering all of NT’s questions. I could hear myself speaking, and it sounded like someone much younger. She did tell NT she wanted to hide somewhere small and dark, but she didn’t know what it was she wanted to hide from.
At some point I gradually got control back, but I was feeling a lot of distress about my depression returning. I ended up crying, which I hate doing in front of people. She didn’t say anything about it, but I was still ashamed.
I’m seeing her again on Thursday. I have very ambivalent feelings about extra sessions–I appreciated that she made that space for me, but I also feel ashamed of needing that and guilty for being too needy and worrying her. I also feel a strong need to be “normal” when I see her next, but I also don’t want to keep faking okay. Thing is, I don’t know how to turn off the faking.
I’m exhausted and sad and lonely. This sucks.