Let You Down - Three Days Grace

Therapy today... Baby-Mommy and Craig both asked me how it went. Why couldn't I tell them? Why can't I let them in even when they ask point blank? Why can't I bring it up on my own? Some things I can't say. Some words I can't say - some I can't even hear without looking away. WHY? They are just words... And I am in love with words and yet have no power over them at times... It is intensely frustrating. But I digress (as I so often do.)

The Shrink has been doing an unusually good job of keeping me on target. For the past two weeks he has made a concerted effort to bring me back to the task at hand. The task at hand is "the shame and self-hatred that is holding me back" - his words, not mine. We dance and dodge around the far past. I think he has consciously chosen not to keep trying to fight me on the issue of how much blame I bear.

Perhaps it is like fighting with the mother over her health: eventually backing off is the only viable course until progress in other areas can be made. Or perhaps I frustrate him too badly for him to keep going round and about it with me... he doesn't know the whole story and his placement of blame on anyone other than myself is based despite large pieces of missing information. Or perhaps he thinks the more recent topic is more vital to be addressed right now. For whatever reason, he allows me to skirt the far past but pulls me back in over Katy.

I am listening to him. I hear what he says and I am processing it and I am trying to wrap my head around the concept he is placing before me. He has taken a step in my direction, admitting that I have some responsibility in that fateful decision, although we disagree on how much. But it gives us common ground to work with and I have taken a step towards him, trying to internalize his concepts on forgiveness, reparations, acceptance and moving on. It is difficult. But I am trying.

The title of this post refers to him. He is either very good or very lucky. I suspect he has more instinct than book-smarts and would even go so far as to say some of the things he does that work so well, he doesn't even know he is doing, not intentionally at least. He has very subtle ways of lifting me up. He makes small comments that hit home and I don't think he sets out to do it. His instincts may tell him when he has hit a hot spot, but I don't think he preplans them. He lays a quiet foundation of confidence beneath me. It is like an unspoken assumption that I have potential at least as great as the most confident parts of me want to embrace.

I told him today of my "recent" obsession over the question WHY. How tracing things back from where they are to how they began by continually challenging with WHY is so fascinating and enlightening and just plain FUN. His face kind of blanked out for a minute - it was the look Craig gets when I start speaking about writing or books. I thought I had bored him or somehow crossed a boundary I didn't even know existed. And I called him on it. He looked surprised. Said his mind had gone somewhere else. When I asked him where, he looked me dead in the eye and, without laughing at me as he so often does, said, "That's what I do."

I knew that. I know that. Deep inside me, I want to know what he knows, help like he helps, make the kind of difference he makes. But the way he said it and the tone in his voice and the look in his eye right before, during and immediately after... it was like an unspoken implication that I *could* do what he does.

And so he lifts me up. But I am afraid of heights, metaphorically as well as literally. I am so afraid that I will let him down. What if I can't live up to what he sees in me? And so the song by Three Days Grace plays in my head over and over. "And when you finally trust me, finally believe in me, I will let you down!!"

Here The Doctor and Rose dance that to that fragile concept in the following YouTube clip to the song "Let You Down" by Three Days Grace...