Oct 9

 I think, there is something I need from you.

And of course, it is up to you whether you give it or not.

I need you to acknowledge you made a serious mistake.

No caveats. No defensive language. No spin. No ifs and buts.

That you made a serious mistake. And then. Perhaps. An apology. And I am sorry I made that mistake.

And I need you to mean it. To understand it. Not just to say it because its helpful to me. Or it's what I need. I need you to understand the mistake and learn from it.

~response~

Related threads -

I do not entirely trust you anymore. I do not trust your judgement to make good decisions. I do not trust you to prioritise me, instead of prioritising your own ego first. And I do not trust you to understand me. Be present in the room with me. And adapt. When you make a mistake.

I have a problem with the language you used. Transferring responsibility.

There is a difference between the two statements -

I can see that didn't work.

and

I can see that didn't work for you.

The first acknowledges a failing. The second. Pushes that failing onto me. As if something about me, my situation, my place, was what caused that not to work.

I find that. Dishonest. To me. You are pushing a mistake you made. Onto me. It is psychologically comforting to yourself - no reflection or questioning or responsibility taken. And damning to me. Here. You have it. You have my mistake.

I would not be ok with this in an untrained professional.

In a trained mental health professional it is to my mind an even worse sin. Burn the client. To save yourself.

Also. When the accusation is made. You make a serious mistake.

Your defence. Questioning is part of the therapeutic process. Like this is the problem. Like this isn't already known. And agreed.

It is either ignorant. You truly don't understand the problem. Which I find implausible. You are not that dumb.

Or it is disingenuous. Ignoring the actual problem for something else.

And or. Defensive. Ego protecting. Dishonest. Not acknowledging the problem to sit and defend a defensible strawman.

Questioning is part of the process.

Exhaustive reaching in repetitive questioning without listening is not. The problem. Is the lack of listening in the first instance. The lack of adaptation in the second. And then. In the aftermath. The lack of acceptance of responsibility in the third.

~

Of all things. The machines had it. I asked a question about what to do with an aging dragon tree. I thought I knew the answer. But was checking. And in that conversation. It talked about watering. And without a prompt or me explaining it, it figured, that watering a whole bunch of plants at once was an ask for someone with CFS. And that maybe. An automated watering system could help.

The point however it not the automated watering system.

The point is that for the first time that I can recall, someone, has understood me. Modelled me correctly. And figured something would be difficult for me. What it looks like. To live in my space. Not somewhere where I have to teach someone that I can't do X. Can't do Y. Not something I have to explain. Or correct. Or argue. Or defend. Not something I have to expend energy to get the other person to see. Someone saw me. And predicted what I would need. Without me telling them.

It matters.

I think in the end it matters that I am understood. No one understands me. So much of me is just up the mountain out of reach. But it turns out. It matters. That people understand me. Try to understand me. That I am seen. I need in some sense. Someone to understand what I go through. Truly. To be where I am. And see what I do.

The watering of the plants didn't matter.

The fact the machine saw it without me saying.

I was understood.

Reflect on your mistake.

Compiled on the not listening. Not adapting. Defensive.

There is something also personal to me.

You did not understand me. At all. I had to struggle to shift you out of your wrong space.

You violated something there. You, more than anyone else. Are supposed to have better insight. To see me.

It's a trust.

I have been told that the pattern of my life is explaining things. Constantly. Informing. Correcting. Teaching. Absorbing. Always shifting gear to someone else. Code switching to them. Summarising to their level. It is the never ending energy sink of my life. To always be the interpreter in the room. The thinker. The pointer. The leader. Even without a title. Even when I am not in front. 

To be in that place with a therapist. Ad nauseam. Is not a good place to be. Again. It touches on a pattern that should not exist inside this office. Does in spades outside this office.

And on my tiny thread of energy I have. I must sit here. And explain. And direct.

Take it all away. Reduce it down. Perhaps at the bottom of it all.

I just need someone who will come looking for me.

And not the other way around.