It started off with me getting there almost 20 minutes late. If you know me, I HATE being late. If I'm on time, I consider myself almost late. I'm a bit obsessive-compulsive when it comes to punctuality. One of my little qwirks. I got completely lost, thanks to my iPhone maps app and Mapquest. The appointment started with the therapist calling me on my cell phone wondering if I was running late because I was lost. This was right after I got off the phone leaving a not so sweet message on the voicemail with the "front desk". Well, apparently there is no front desk and there is no full time office staff. This is totally a private practice, not a clinical setting with office staff running the clinic. Opps. In my defense, I've never been a client of any provider that works out of a private practice, so I thought the front desk people were being slackers and not answering the phones, and it was costing me my appointment. Another one of my many flaws, I make assumptions based on my limited scope of experience, but in the height of my frustrations, I don't stop and think I could possibly be totally wrong.
So we started this appointment off with me being very late and a little snappy at her staff not answering my phone calls, and discovering there was no full time staff. I walked into this office building, and the therapist's door was open, and I walked right in and sat down on her couch. Weird, I thought. I didn't even need to check in. I like this though. But I felt a little stupid and embarrassed for my attitude that I started with this new adventure. Opps. Well, she was very gracious and understanding as I explained by assumptions.
We got to talking about my background. It was a basic Intake appointment, getting all my basic background information and what brought me into therapy. Well...hahaha...too many things to start with. She was asking me questions about my history. I started asking her questions about herself. I found out she is a mother of 3. Two out of her three children are adopted from India. She is a clinical social worker who has also worked in an adoption agency, so she's gotten to see two sides of this thing called adoption. She has lots of experience and interest in international adoption. Wow. I had no idea. I told her I was adopted from South Korea. She asked me what I knew of what happened in Korea before I came. She asked me what my adoptive family dynamics are like. I felt very comfortable talking with her. I think I'm really gonna like this. And this all happened about 30 minutes after me cussing up a storm in my minivan as I was totally lost but only about 1/2 a mile away and about to just "eff this whole thing", and quite. Well, I'm glad I didn't.
My new therapist is not a Christian counselor. She respects and works with people wherever they are at with regards to their faith, or lack of one. She mentioned to me towards the end of the appointment that she was glad I had this faith and that she can see it's saved me from a ton of stuff. She almost seemed surprised that I'm not a whole lot more messed up than I am, and she accredited to this faith I have. Wow. That's to God's doing only. But there is a ton of work ahead. A lot of plowing through. And the means to plowing through and moving forward in life is being able to plow through and dig up past events. I thought I've done all that, but there's more I guess.
One of the questions she asked me really stumped me. I couldn't for the life of me find an answer. She had asked who it was that I was closest to growing up and felt safe with and had a significant relationship with. It could have been a parent, a friend, a grandparent, a relative, a coach, a neighbor, a teacher or a pet dog. I kept trying to answer her question with more questions. I didn't understand what she meant. Then...it kinda hit me, something I've always kinda felt and suspected. -Nobody. The closest thing I could think of was a string of boyfriends I had going through my teenage and young adult years. So I guess I just hopped around trying to find that one significant "somebody" through boyfriends, but never really did. Then I got married, and am experiencing a familiar feeling of this detachment. I don't know about that one..or do I? Anyways, one thing she said is that we need to get Kristen strong and secure in being Kristen, while not needing to attach or find that outside of Kristen. I guess that is a completely appropriate and healthy thing for a child to do and that a child needs in order to thrive in their environment..a secure nurturing attachment, an anchor in at least one relationship. But Kristen is no longer a child. She is an adult. Hmmm....and this is without the spiritual jargon. Hmmm...
I've always considered myself a fighter. There are two ways of dealing with life's conflicts when they're dished out, either self-inflicted or not. And that's fight or flight. And I've always, with pride, considered myself to be a fighter. I fight for the things that matter to me. I fight for the relationships that I value, and I don't give up easily, I don't give up without a good fight. And I think in many respects that is true about me. Accept one thing...myself.
Have I abandoned myself and instead of fighting for myself, I've done the flight thing? Have I tried to escape my own stuff by hiding in relationships with others, namely with a guy? And when that doesn't seem to work, I just feel I need another guy? I think there might be something to this, it's been happening on a sub-conscience level, a primal survival mechanism? But in the meantime, I'm running away from myself. I'm running away from being alone, and sitting in that. Why can't I stand being alone? I mean I love my alone time. That's why I'm enjoying this very minute as I type up this blog entry...my alone time. But I don't live alone, or do I? I've often found myself in relationships with others...feeling alone. Hmmm...I don't know what the heck I'm talking about here...or do I?
Ok...blah blah blah...I'm rambling here for absolutely no focused purpose but to just rattle on...
Laterzz~~
