A continuation from last weeks story, In Session – Pt. 1. Enjoy!
Straight to business. He’s not wasting time. I’m distracted by his stare; waiting for whatever ‘worse’ I have hidden that may or not be ready to come out.
His pen is ready to thrive at my emotions and fears.
“Well, it’s pretty simple” I start “It’s as simple as me wanting to throw myself in front of a car.” Anything moving, really. “Even a train on my way to work” I quickly add. He gets the point.
His eyes widen. Shocked by my revelation. Or should I say craziness.
Yeah, you’re shocked. How do you think I feel. I’m not myself. My thoughts scare me.
“That’s more than wanting to harm yourself.” he replies staring at me with his bemused expression.
Put a lock on it. I choose to stay silence. Fighting tears; I can’t cry, I won’t cry. Vulnerability I’m not comfortable with. Not now. Afraid if I start, I won’t be able to control myself.
“Throwing yourself in front of a train is more than harming yourself.” he argues.
“It’s more like ending it all.”
I didn’t say I was rational. None of this makes sense. I know that, hence my sanity hanging by a thread. “Fortunately. It’s only thoughts.” I add trying to sound optimistic. He can probably see behind my fake attempt. Optimism left a long time ago.
His pen is having a field day. I glance at the window. I space off into nothingness only hearing the sound of his voice.
“Are you with me?” I’m forced back in the moment.
I need to focus.
“What brings out the desire to harm yourself?” He asks, avoiding the S-word. Hell, I’m avoiding it too. But I’m sure that’s what we’re both thinking.
“The feeling of hopelessness.” I explain “My mind wanders off to all bad things. I’m not happy. I have nothing to give. I feel empty.” A dark cloud hangs over me making it impossible for sunlight to appear.
I stare down. Trying to hide my teary eyes. I notice there’s a box of tissue on my right. But I discard it. Nope, not going to happen. Put. A. Lock. On. It.
“I’m exhausted.” I continue as our eyes meet. Showing him that I can control myself. No tears.
“What you’re feeling is no surprise.” he starts. He puts down his pen. “You’ve given too much of yourself to the outside world not thinking of the consequences.”
I know. Now tell me what to do.
“Imagine trying to fill a bucket with water but there’s a hole at the bottom.” I’m attentive. Ready for whatever this is. “No matter your attempt at filling it up, you’re failing.”
Am I the bucket here? I let him finish his story.
“You must seal the hole to keep the bucket full. You need to stop giving what you don’t have. Saying ‘yes’ to everything which empties your ‘bucket’ is not doing you any good.” he stops to check if I’m still on board.
Barely. But I get his metaphor. I understand that I’ve lost myself in pleasing and giving to others. I’ve exhausted myself by saying yes to everything and everyone without a single thought. I’m burned out. I’ve hit the infamous wall. Now what?
“You need to change the way you work. Perhaps work out a structure that allows you to distance yourself from work and a way to say no.”
Now tell me how. The great doctor was my solution. Now, I’m not sure. It all sounds great but how the hell am I supposed to do that?
“I see that our time is up.” he states after looking at his Iphone. “I want to schedule another session. In two weeks, how does that sound.”
Nothing is answered. Thirty minutes flew by fast. I give him a gentle nod confused about our ending here. Everything is blurred together. I’m a bucket. I have a hole in me. A dark one. I need to fill my bucket?
That’s just great! A bucket metaphor, that’s new. He follows me out. “Until next time.” he pulls out his hand. We shake. “Yes, until next time!”
I go through the session in my head again. And basically I’m left with the notion that if I don’t do anything or take back control it will all eat me alive. Sending me deeper.
Find a solution. You’re a bucket!