It takes two, baby!

So, I’ve been cheating on Sid.
I have another therapist, Tess*, and she’s also awesome.  I see her to focus on the food stuff.  (I’m still struggling to put the words “eating” and “disorder” together in any meaningful way, especially as any kind of label for myself)

Holy shit.  Two isn’t always better than one, but in this case?  Holy shit.  I absolutely need two therapists right now.

Tess and I are talking about food.  And sex.  And how much the two are related.  I had no idea that you could violate someone with food.  My mom’s lack of boundaries extended to both–telling me things about her sex life that I can’t un-know, and well, let’s just say lots of food issues (because I don’t have the energy to go into that long story).

Sid and I are working on EMDR.  That’s been pretty intense, in its own way.

They both have very different approaches.  Sid is all blank screen.  Tess is all relate, connect, and empathize over shared past experiences.  It’s kind of like polar opposites, but I’m feeling like each one is really helpful.

Oh, and Sid shaved the mustache!
Also, last post I talked about my supervisor who is cute, naturally.  And also gay.
I’m pretty glad about both of those things.

Between both sessions tonight… (yes, that’s right, I had two therapy sessions with two different therapists with only an hour in between) so many of my issues come from not having a voice, or feeling like I didn’t have one.  100% when it comes to Mom, but with my birth trauma, and emotional manipulation from Seth…and so on.

I’m curious to see where all this goes.

And now it’s time to pass out.

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2 thoughts on “It takes two, baby!

    • Basically forcing food on you, the same way it’s possible to force sex on you. The same sort of overall lack of boundaries. For example, we were all expected to thank my mom for meals, and tell her they were delicious (regardless of whether or not they were). Yeah, thanks for meeting that minimum bar of feeding your children! When we dined out, she would inevitably steal some of my dessert–without asking. (My dad would always order coffee ice cream, because it was the only one she wouldn’t eat)
      Anyway, lots of examples where I felt like I didn’t have any choice, and thus didn’t have a voice.
      I don’t know if I explained that very well, but we def need to catch up either way. 🙂

      Like

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