You have no idea how it feels to have the feeling that nobody can see you or hear you unless you let them disguise you as they please. Like you don’t exist because of their inabilities to feel you one way or another. What is a sound you don’t understand? Just a noise, maybe even a loud noise that you want to turn down.
I have found people who can hear and see me and a therapist who can too and who therefore may not be perfect but definitely the only one who can help me.
Other zebras often refer to this as “mind reading” when one of us think something and the other zebra says it with the own words the first zebra would have used.
It is not mind reading at all just probabilities. We are not used at all to meet and talk to someone who is like us. We have never experienced the feeling of belonging to a crew like others have where we don’t have to make an effort (which is often pointless actually).
Our brains work a different way which make us use words a different way too and set us apart.
So when we make such an experience it feels like ” mind reading” but if they paid a little attention they would realize that it never happens for deep and specific and personal subject that no one knows about. First we are talking about the same subject, second we use the same language and third we think faster than and adeverage person. Basically all the ingredients for a conversation to have some “mind reading” moments when it is really not.
Anyway I had some of those moments with my therapist it was soooooo coool. You know the expression “been there, done that”? Well for us it is more “being here, doing this” so when it happens with a therapist it makes it easier to trust her/him (could have been a man).
She laughed with sadness at my sad joke about my mother sending me an email to tell me not to ever call her again and that I am like my grand-mother and blah blah blah (insert all that a sick brain with hatred and pride could say) when I told her that I had to choice for a transfer: either her or my grand-mother who lives in Lebanon. I called my grand-mother.
There was this time when she described something specific in my bedroom (just for your info this third meeting was the third time she saw me. We never met before.
My shrink is evil. Or she just has a high IQ that she has decided to use for the benefit of others.