Honesty prevailed via the email.

(Dear Therapist,)

I couldn't make it. I fell asleep on the sofa. First I dreamed of my mother. I dreamed that she came over here and sat down next to me on the sofa where I was sleeping and I started my period all over my lovely new drop cloth sofa covers. I was annoyed, Mom thought it was funny. I dreamed that I then got up and moved to the other side of the sectional only to discover that it had all been a dream and my mother had not been here and I had not started my period (yes, I dreamed that I dreamed). Then, on the other side of the sofa (I did not move in real life, it's just that I began to dream about the side of the sofa that I was really sleeping on), I dreamed that there was a deer in the house. I opened my eyes and saw it walking around. I tried to shoo it/ scare it away, but it wasn't afraid and I was tired and went back to sleep. It kept waking me up. It was trying to climb up on the sofa with me, but I kept shooing it down. Then I stood up to try to escort it outside, and it got around behind me and wrapped its front legs around my solar plexus. I was afraid of the deer and wanted it to go outside before it hurt me somehow. I screamed for my husband to put it outside and he led it away toward the back of the house and I went back to sleep. It came back a few minutes later wearing a fuzzy green face mask with sequins on it and proceeded to press its face into mine. I could feel the sequins against my skin. They were made of hard plastic. I was scared. I dreamed that I got up then and checked my email. I saw an email from you in response to something I had sent you and I felt my diaphragm (for real) lock up in fear, dreading what you may have written that might bring me down like a house of cards. And then I woke up for real.

I'm sorry I couldn't let you in yesterday. I couldn't because some really difficult issues that I'm very sensitive about have come to the forefront for me in the last week. I have heard from Rambo during this time. He is not comfortable with the last few emails that were sent to you. I think he was gearing up for a tirade because he felt they were unwise and was looking for protective maneuvers. I felt it happening and I decided not to let it happen. He won't take over and get me to send mean emails if I listen to him and keep my crap to myself. The crap in question? The mother, abandonment, creativity issues, issues of family loss and loyalty. It's been a bad week. I'd probably be in the hospital if not for dissociation (and Rambo).

I can tell you how I felt about the deer in the dream. I could feel the real conflict quite well. I felt afraid of the deer. I thought it might hurt me somehow. That it could hurt me with its hooves. Step on me, knock me down, trample me. I was also afraid FOR it because I noticed its thin and fragile legs and I didn't want it to be hurt by any effort to get it to go outside. I was terrified when it came to me wearing a mask. Terrified.

I don't want you to go away. I guess I just have to accept that I'm on my own with some things. I hope you can accept it, too. It doesn't mean you can't be with me, it only means that there will be times when some things are too dangerous to share.

Rambo wants you to know that the danger lies in a therapist's need to protect himself from a client's reality (or maybe from his own feelings about the client's reality?) which may lead him to try to banish certain people.

The little girl sends a really big hug. She wants to kiss your hands and hold them to her face.

The teenage girl sends the Bronx Cheer.

And me? I'm sending this email. Please don't answer. I don't know where my head might be when I check my email and I don't want to get a shock. I'll talk to you next Wednesday.