It's always a wonderful feeling when you leave your therapist's office and you think "wow, I really accomplished a lot during that session." Then about twenty minutes later it hits: holy crap, is this really me?
A good session is a wonderful thing, but it often means a some painful realizations. For me it's no different. Last night I was blindsided by a baffling revelation: I am really hard to comfort. I've always assumed it was the opposite- others did not comfort me correctly. While this is still pretty true, I had to suck it up and figure out that this is partially because I don't let others in. I spend so much time trying to take care of others that when the favor is returned I don't know what to do with it. This is what leads to a lot of my urges to self-injure: it's a great way to avoid the discomfort of being taken cared of. Having not had my emotional needs met for a great majority of my life I never learned how to gracefully accept comfort. I find myself needing to justify it (ie- have a crisis), avoid it (ie- self soothe/hurt myself), or run from it (ie- feel ANY other emotion such as anger).
So this Christmas I'm going to try to give myself a really great present: allowing others to comfort me. It's not an easy thing, trust me. But I'm going to start by remembering the most important thing: affection isn't always perfect, but it always comes from the heart.
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