still thinking… again.

After 1.5 yrs of weekly sessions, I’ve stopped seeing Dr Jerry. I feel like I’ve taken that relationship as far as it can go for now… well, until I bottom out again I suppose. It had just reached the point where I felt like we were spinning our wheels — over the last 1.5 yrs, I’ve talked about motherloss and babyloss and religious baggage ad nauseum. The poor damn horse is dead… I guess I’ll quit kicking it for awhile.

Not that I’ll quit fixating on those topics, of course… just not gonna pay to do it in a formalized therapy setting.

I’m so glad that my sister’s baby is here. I didn’t realize how much I was dreading the birth process — the call that it’s happening, the labor & delivery wing of the hospital, watching with sad eyes, hoping that one day it will be my turn. It all happened so quickly that I was able to keep the demons at bay for the most part. There were a few moments of self-pity, but I buried them in activity… bringing food to the hospital, balancing hospital visits with my little job, & buying silly things like a giant pink bow for the hosp room door.

There was one time, when I held Sadie and looked at her tiny, perfect face, and I truly felt overwhelmed and inadequate. Healthy, perfectly formed and functioning babies are such an unbelievably complex phenomenon… that the science of multiplying cells can (and does in cases where my uterus isn’t involved) become a breathing, sleeping, warm little human. I felt a wave of doubt that I’ll ever be able to accomplish such an incredible feat — that, like winning an Olympic medal for pole-vaulting or being one of those circus girls who balance on a galloping horse, that maybe growing a little human is something that my body just isn’t meant to do.

Bleh. Don’t like that thought. Moving on. You see, this is what I do right now. I tamp down sad thoughts like tobacco in a pipe.

I still really like my job. Not crazy about the pissiness of working with women again… you know, the whole gossipy, whisper-whisper, back-stabby thing… seriously, I wonder if there’s a female-monopolized workplace that isn’t catty as hell?!  But the kids? Love ‘em. My day:laugh ratio has increased dramatically — they’re just so stinking *funny*.  Like one little boy came in the other morning hugging a cowboy boot. Not a pair of boots… just one boot. His frazzled dad explained that he wouldn’t leave the house (or the car) without it. Or when we’re talking about body parts, and I ask where their bellies are… one little boy responded that he left his at home.

And I know they probably hug on all their teachers, but it absolutely warms my heart everytime one of them launches themselves at my legs or crawls into my lap. Such dear little critters. Dogs can sense fear…. so maybe the kiddies can sense that I’m in love with them. Ya think? :)

Yesterday evening at our weekly appt with Dr Jerry, I asked him if we could talk about progress — like whether I’ve made any, and if so, what kind. Am I better? Am I “fixed”? What does his little chart that he’s always scribbling on say?

His answer:  He doesn’t believe in “progress,” only in “process.”

Now this answer intrigued me, of course… I dearly love semantics, the minute differences between seemingly similar words. So what’s the difference? “Progress” is a movement toward an end goal — it’s more of an economic term.  “Process,” on the other hand, is defined as “a continuous action or series of changes taking place in a definite manner.” There is no “end goal.”

So yeah, I’m with you, Dr Jerry…. process is definitely what we’re doing here. We actually made a list of situations/conversations/examples that I’ve handled differently than I would have a year ago…  it’s kinda nice to actually prove to yourself that you’ve grown or changed.

Last week, during this conversation, Jennifer asked if maybe therapy was making me worse instead of better. So I asked Dr Jerry what he thought. He said that short term, in a specific situation (for example, my freak-out about Jennifer’s pregnancy), it does seem like I’m actually worse, more inside my own head.  But long-term, it’s a subconscious way to process and if you work through it, you’re further along in the long-term. Freud called it “regression.”

Freud actually came up with a list of 10 defense mechanisms that he said we all use. Some people predominately use one or two, while others use more. And because I really, truly believe that the world would be a better place if we were all more self-aware, I’m posting the list here. I’m highlighting the ones that I think I use the most:

1. Denial — arguing against something by saying it doesn’t exist
2. Displacement — taking out impulses on a less threatening target (ie. yelling at your husband when you’re really upset about something else)
3. Intellectualization — avoiding emotion by focusing on the intellectual aspects (ie. focusing on the details of a funeral instead of sadness & grief)
4. Projection — placing your unacceptable impulses onto someone else (ie. you feel unhappy or discontent, so you “project” it onto someone else instead of owning your feelings)
5. Rationalization — using logic to explain something instead of acknowledging the real reason
6. Reaction formation — taking the opposite belief because the true belief causes anxiety (ie. saying “I LOVE other races” because you’re afraid to admit that deep down, you’re racist)
7. Regression — returning to a previous stage of development
8. Suppression — consciously trying to bury or forget something because it’s upsetting
9. Repression — subconsciously burying or forgetting something because it’s traumatic (ie. abuse victims often have large chunks of memory missing)
10. Sublimation — acting out unacceptable impulses in a socially acceptable way (ie. becoming a cop because you’re a bully)

Do any of these sound familiar to you, bloggy friends? Which defense mechanisms do you use when you’re feeling hurt or angry?