“You do have a beautiful soul.”

Today in my therapy session, we did the housekeeping stuff.  I caught him up on the latest drama and changes going on.  I tried to get a grip on what these next weeks will look and feel like.

We talked some of coping strategies and how when MrJJ gets comfy he might let things begin to slide.  How to prepare for that and deal with it.

Then I mentioned that for some reason, now that I am letting myself feel down, the suicidal thoughts are back.  They don’t have the same power they once did, but it is still unsettling because immediately my mind says the reason behind it is because not only will the pain never go away (if it’s not this it will be something else) but that I am not worth being alive.  Again, these thoughts are not at the strength they once were.

He talked to me about his theory that when people like me, who have had these thoughts since childhood, think them even when they are healing, it’s possibly because that is the one thing we have control over.

We also talked about how when feelings get to a certain point, it’s like a switch is flipped and that thought gets turned on.  The switch was programmed in my childhood, during the times when my parental figures (mom, dad, stepmom, stepdad and so on) made me feel unworthy and unlovable.  And sure enough, those are the feelings that pop up.

He talked about making a picture of what these thoughts really are.  So I shared my image that I’m being tormented by little demons that can’t stand to see me healing.  Oh, I wish I was an artist to draw them.  Elongated pointy ears, long noses, bug eyes…

My first picture would be of them pulling and tugging at me, yanking at my hair and clothes.  My second would be of me building a shield around myself and laughing as they tried to get to me.

He said I also needed to create a picture of what I am teaching my daughter about herself by how I treat and think about myself.  Ouch.

Finally, he told me that when those thoughts came (and he doesn’t have fear I would act on them as my kids are a protecting factor for me), that I needed an affirmation, whatever would help.  “I am a child of God.”  “I deserve love and happiness.”  “I have a beautiful soul.”

That brought us pretty much to the end of the session.  As I was stepping out the door, he smiled at me and said, “You do have a beautiful soul.”  I could only say thanks and walk down the hall with a smile on my face.

After all, to have that affirmation from someone who hears all my fears, hates, attitudes and insecurities, that felt pretty good.

Before I forget- for those that have been in therapy before (I have but I don’t have clear memories), do other therapists sometimes tear up when you are talking?

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