Peer Trainer

I just wanted to share some good news that I’m very excited about. (Although I can feel like a small, excited child – probably because I’m acting like one – BN got an email. ) I volunteer as a Telephone Worker (TW) on a Crisis line here in Syracuse, the Contact Hotline. I will have been a volunteer for two years this June. I have really enjoyed volunteering on the line and have found it to be both very challenging and incredibly fulfilling. I was very excited when I got an email from the director today, asking me to become a peer trainer in the next training cycle.

Diminished

Yesterday was a very sad day. My husband called me in the morning because he had heard from a mutual friend, that our handyman, whom I’ll call Dan (not his real name), had a heart attack while training this weekend for an upcoming bike race for charity and had died. He was a very fit guy, and only 44 years old, so it was a total unexpected shock. I just kept saying “no” to my husband through most of the phone call.

We’ve known Dan over fifteen years. The friend who called to tell us of his death had recommended him years ago, just after Dan had gone out and started his own Construction company. We hired him to do some minor repairs. Dan’s specialties were carpentry and masonry and the man did dry wall like nobody’s business. He did such a great job the first time that we have just continued to hire him through the years whenever we needed work done. We sold our first home around seven years ago, because we were building a new house with an in-law apartment for my mother-in-law, and he was the one who got it into shape to sell. And he’s still who we call, when we need anything done. Or at least he was.

Erotic Transference

I got a request from a reader to discuss erotic transference, so I thought I would share a few thoughts. I do want to be clear that although I have done a lot of reading about erotic transference, most of what I write here is based on my own experience and so may not be all that universal. I also think that erotic transference can be a very complex thing encompassing several different dynamics in the relationship. Our sexuality is a very powerful, integral part of us and  therefore a lot of things get played out in this area; issues around power, love, desire, longings, sensuality, self-worth, and attractiveness to list only a few. And all of these things are going to be even more highlighted in the therapeutic relationship since the therapist carries so much symbolic weight.

Why I Love the Boundary Ninja: Reason #456

In the middle of a difficult session dealing with my stubborn fears and lack of ability to retain a sense of our connection lately, we had this exchange:

BN: It took a long time to get here. (referring to my willingness to be vulnerable and share my feelings)

AG: See, right there, that’s it. I feel like it’s taking me way too long to get through this.

Unspoken

Reblogged from what a shrink thinks:

I curse in session too regularly, and should probably be more ashamed of my potty mouth than I am.

I can talk frankly about anything from money to masturbation without blinking an eye.

I can discuss the darkest sins, the deepest shames, give words to feeling states that are subtle, terrifying, violent, kinky, mystical and murderous. I can use and parse my counter-transferential, intersubjective, empathic and projectively identified responses through some pretty tricky co-created therapeutic enactments.

Read more… 1,352 more words

I found this incredibly affirming and uplifting even as it broke my heart.

Bookends

I saw BN today. The day did not start well. I was holding down a lot of terror because despite knowing better, there was a deep feeling of dread about what I would find when I walked into his office. I knew I was overreacting by being convinced that the relationship was beyond repair, but try telling that to my hamster amygdala. Which is also deaf, I believe. And as if the terror was not enough on its own, I woke to a continuation of a difficult situation with which I have been dealing. I do not mean to be coy, dear readers, but this particular problem involves not just my privacy, which I have every right to set aside if I wish to, but also other parties for whom I cannot make that decision. So if I sound a little vague at points, you’re not imagining it.

So I drove to BN’s office in a very focused manner, as when I am feeling this scared about an upcoming session, I have this habit of overlooking a necessary highway change, the correction of which can be quite costly in terms of time. I was running a little late because I had stopped for a cup of coffee at what seemed to be the most popular drive through for a 50 mile radius judging by the line of cars. But I had been so nervous, I hadn’t really slept all that well the night before and we were out of caffeinated coffee at home. I was not going into the lion’s den unfortified, or even worse, unconscious. So when I arrived, I headed upstairs as quickly as possible and settled in the waiting room.

Feelings can be irrational: Example #637

Preface:This is going to be a bit of gloom and doom as I am in the middle of doing some fairly heavy processing of which this post is a part. When I am doing this kind of work the past rides close, which means that I will be struggling with bad feelings about myself. I know they’re not all, or even most of them, true. I also have a number of lovely friends and my husband who have been supporting me through this with care, kindness and love. So don’t take the gloom too seriously. Yes, this is not fun, but it’s also not insurmountable or unbearable and I am not alone in facing it.

This has been a really long crappy week. I’ve been dealing with a couple of different situations in which I’ve had to work very hard to keep my boundaries clear, work very hard to examine myself to sort out my own stuff and in most of the situations draw a hard boundary which has either not gone over well or has left me feeling like I’m kicking puppies or even worse, becoming my father. At one point this week I was actually wondering if someone had hung a sign somewhere on my person that said “please tell me what a crappy human being I am.” Since I am quite capable of doing that on my own more often than I would like, I honestly could have done without the assistance.