I have literally just got home from my session and felt I needed to type this out quickly. I never write this quickly after a session so this is unusual and this is only about one very tiny aspect of my session but it has thrown me.
** Trigger warning ***
It was about 25 past the hour, 5 minutes before my session was due to end. We had spoken about a lot of things but was currently talking about my narcissistic mother. I told T that I had thought to myself this morning I wonder what my relationship with my body would be like if it she hadn’t said all the things she did.
T said absolutely I would. She said that now that I know that things she said weren’t true, I could let go of certain beliefs etc. I said well, it isn’t quite that easy. I believe the things she told me about my physical appearance. I said that those particular messages have got in too deep for me to suddenly not believe anymore.
T asked me for an example and I said, well for example, my nose. She seemed surprised and asked what was wrong with my nose. I felt embarrassed and said I hate it and my mother always told me it was “a nose from my Dad’s family”. I said it made me very conscious and I hated having my photo taken from side profile.
She seemed genuinely shocked and told me that there was absolutely nothing wrong with my nose and that it was “bollocks” (said quite angrily).
The thing is though, of course she’s going to say that isn’t she? She isn’t going to look at me and say “ah yeah, it is shit isn’t it?”.. so I can’t believe her. I told her that my boyfriend sometimes grabs my nose and says how it is “cute” or “sweet” but that I hate it and I used to really want a nose job… but that was before I had my boob job.
T said that her words were absolute bollocks and that we need to resolve this once and for all. I felt all hot and then burst into tears. She said “you really do believe you have a horrible nose, don’t you?” I said yes I do.
She then said “if you have a baby and your baby has your nose, will you hate that too?!” she sounded angry but I understand she was just trying to get through to me. I said no, of course not.
She said that all the things my mum picked on about my physical appearance was through jealousy because she is hollow. I told her that can’t be true because the things she picks on about me, she has better. For example, if she says I am fat – she is skinny. She said that because she is a narcissist, she just can’t bear that I am different to her. Different is bad in her world, that’s all.
I was a crying mess and shocked at how quickly that had escalated. I looked at the clock and it was half past so I pulled my handbag towards me, still crying and trying to wipe my face. She said to take a minute and that I didn’t have to rush off. I wanted to stay and I had more to say but I’ve never stayed past my session time and I didn’t want to overstay my welcome… plus I was really embarrassed.
I got in the car and just broke down. I sobbed. I’ve never done that before. I was conscious the whole time that she could see me from the window if she had looked out and I didn’t want her to see me… or did I? I didn’t want her to see me crying and come out to my car to console me.. hug me… or did I? Aghh the tears are running again.
I drove home feeling very out of it and blaring out some angry music really loudly. I actually drove past my house and went the long way around because I was enjoying singing along and releasing some of this emotion/energy.. whatever it is.
The thing is, I haven’t even got started on the things I hate about my body because of my mum, but the sad thing is, I don’t want to tell her because she will try to make me feel better and I won’t believe her. Because it is embarrassing and because, as stupid as it sounds, I don’t want to point things out to her in case she hasn’t noticed before and then does.
I had a boob job because she told me I looked like a boy. She made me have one. Okay, that’s a bit unfair because she couldn’t force me obviously, but she pushed it and pushed it and then she had her’s done and told me how wonderful it had made her feel so I had one too. I was petrified and although I like having breasts when wearing clothes, I can’t bear how they feel and often wish I hadn’t had it done. This was before I started therapy and when I was completely caught in my need to get her approval. Before I understood the unhealthy dynamic.
Do I tell her that looking at my legs makes me want to be sick? That I used to have visions of getting a knife and slicing off some of the (excess) fat that cling to them? That I still do sometimes when I am on the toilet or in the bath? She used to tell me I had “[Dad’s family] legs” too… just like the nose.
She used to make me feel utterly shit when my legs were on show. She one compared my legs to my best friend’s when I was about 15 and on my way out in front of her. I have never forgotten that.
Do I tell T that THAT is why I always cover myself up in her office with my coat or a cushion? because I don’t want her or me to have to see my fat legs? and that when she asked me why I cover myself up, I pretended I didnt know.
Do I tell T that I tense my legs so much they ache most nights? That when I was learning to drive I used to tense them so they didn’t go flat against the seat and look even fatter? that THAT is why I don’t wear shorts in the summer? that THAT is why I prefer the winter because I get to cover up? That THAT is why I stopped eating as a child and why she hid the scales from me because I became obsessed?
I don’t know how I feel right now. Is it anger? is it rage? sadness? I don’t know.
I hate the thought that I am left with this shit now and I have to wait until Tuesday night now which already feels like a million years away.
My tears won’t stop running and I feel shit.