Today has been truly awful. I had hoped for the relief of therapy. But it didn’t happen. Rather than explaining the whole thing, I will paste the email I just sent to my therapist – as it explains it all for me;
You told me last week that you had to be very strict about allotted time slots because of your work load and clients. I had been the one previously that said it was impossible to offer clients set hours as needs vary so you know that I do not take issue with appointment times that lag and think its unrealistic to get people in and out within an hour, if it was that tidy – I think something is going wrong. People can’t be unzipped and tidily zipped up 58 minutes 58 seconds later.
I waited zipped up in that waiting room until 1pm. Slowly I became uncoiled. It’s unlike me to have that emotion, but I have been triggered and could no longer hold the barrage of emotions. The ones we try so hard to reach. By 1:10, I was sobbing. I had no intention of knocking on the door, of revealing my plight to anyone. That’s my choice – and I don’t have a level of trust with anyone else. I opted to get out and dodge.
Your voicemail was, to be honest, quite shitty. You might as well have said, hey, what are you being unreasonable for? If our appointment goes late -you want to hope someone else has more patience. Might you have considered that perhaps I didn’t take off because of impatience – have I ever.? But because I was so frail and emotional. I had moved the car and parked and toyed with going back, I wanted you to know the reason I left was because of my very public upset. Your text ‘I’m sorry you didn’t feel you could cry here’ no I couldn’t cry in the waiting room. By default that’s not its purpose. You know me well enough to know I associate crying with shame and fear, embarrassment and failure. And your “I’m sorry you didn’t feel you could cry here” is classic putting it all onto me. Again, you could say, “I’m sorry you feel that way.”
I’m sorry I broke down in the waiting room. Technically it was after 1pm, so within my allotted time. But I couldn’t zip it up, I couldn’t pull myself together, I didn’t want to talk to anyone.
Anyway, there is no purpose to this email then to tell you what I’m thinking,”