My therapist sent me an email in which, among other things, she said it might be worth considering seeing p-doc again. Just when I thought I’d made up my mind not to go back. Damn.
I’ve been thinking about my sessions with him. I feel grubby. Dirty. Yucky.
As if his sexualised comments aren’t enough, one of the things he does is draw attention to things that I say, or do, or ways that I move/don’t move. For example, he’ll watch me fiddle with my jewellery and say “What’s going on there?” or watch me sitting with my arms crossed and say “See how you’re sitting? And breathing?”
Granted this might be good for me in a therapeutic sense, but I can’t stand it.
I hate myself and my body enough without him constantly drawing attention to it. At risk of disclosing too much information – my father used to “spy” on me in the shower and I’ve always hated people looking at me; it’s very shame inducing. It’s like they’re undressing me or something. I don’t know.
Is this a trigger? Or is my anxiety just looking for an excuse to freak out some more? I don’t know.
I do know that I’m hysterical. I can’t believe this, just when I was starting to get back on track and feel like I might be making a little progress. Ugh.