As you can see in my last post I was rather agitated by the book Dr. K gave me last week. When I enter the conference room I place my purse and planner next to me on the couch, with the book right on top in plain view. I dive right into this issue as soon as we say hello. I tell Dr. K that I was offended by some of the goals in the book, primarily the goals geared toward becoming a caregiver instead of a caretaker. I told him I felt bad about what I perceive as having more labels applied to me (i.e “escape artist”, “caretaker”). I told him how I wonder if there isn’t anything about me that isn’t a symptom or coping mechanism created in response to the abuse. Dr. K says that I am not an escape artist. I retort that actually I am, I’ve been keeping my distance from my family for almost a whole year now. He insists that I am not an escape artist and that what I’ve been doing for the past year is establishing some much needed boundaries. I told him that I appreciated the way the book conveyed the feelings of the family members as they experience the wrenching transformation of their loved ones, but I just didn’t feel like it really applied to my situation. I say that I figured he gave me the book to get me moving in a more dynamic, purposeful direction in the therapy. Dr. K explains that the book was just a book and he thought it might be of interest to me. He says it obviously did not apply to my situation and I should never think there is a secret message behind why he gives me a certain book. He says that if he has something to tell me, he will say it. I tell him perhaps the book does apply to me and I just don’t want to move on and do the work of accepting and forgiving and being the catalyst to this big family “solution task force”. Dr. K asks why I am questioning my instincts? He says I’ve already done those things, that season is over and if the book is causing me to question the boundaries I’ve set into place then the book was actually a “set back”. I am so glad to hear these words but I am unable to say it. We lock eyes for a moment while his words sink in. I take a deep breath and then exhale. Okay, that is settled lets move on.
The whole time we were discussing this I was fidgeting; crossing and uncrossing my legs, wringing my hands, readjusting my bandanna, shifting my weight around, staring off into space, basically the perfect picture of a basket case. Conversely, Dr. K is a Zen like monument to calm. His placidity makes me feel more over the top. I try to use his gaze as an anchor, something to center me, but it is short lived. I am out in the depths. Monstrous waves of emotion are crashing over me. I want to believe I can ride them, that they will carry me safely to shore despite their intimidating intensity. However my instincts tell me there is danger; the waves are endless and deadly, surely I will be drowned. So my body reacts with this “controlled thrashing”, not unlike the desperate movements of a drowning man overwhelmed by a force greater than himself. I explain that I feel I wasted my last visit. I tell him I see a pattern of approaching big issues, circling them and then avoiding them. I express how worried I am that the therapy is not going to be productive. I tell him I realize that I am starting to daydream and fantasize and that when I stumble upon something big (i.e memories of possible sexual abuse, etc.) I don’t talk about it during therapy. Dr. K smiles, “When did you realize that the last visit was not productive, during or after?” he asks. “As soon as I left” I say. “What about the visit was unproductive?” he asks. “Well I was basically ranting about stuff that happened at my old job, and that’s not germane to the work we are doing here.” I reply. Dr. K says that my ability to do what I just did is very good, he says there are people that are in avoidance and don’t even realize it, and that when he points it out they still will deny it. Somehow I veer back to the book and become agitated again. In the midst of my revisiting the book, Dr. K politely interrupts me. He asks me to give him the book, he says, “Lets get this thing out of here!” and he deftly tucks it out of sight. The book has become imbued with personality now, it is an antagonistic object and now it has been put in its place. I feel an absurd sense of gratitude. This gesture is truly touching to me. It says, Dr. K is on MY SIDE, he is championing my cause, he understands and respects my feelings. This small gesture, that simple phrase speak volumes to my soul. I have an increased urge to place my trust in him and his ability to provide me with the therapy I need.
I ask him how do I discern whether a memory is real or not? How do I deal with sexual abuse I can’t remember? He tells me to start with what I do remember, and he adds that since I am so results oriented I can make a list of what I know happened, what I think happened and what I have questions about. He tells me to give him a copy and we’ll work on it together. I tell Dr. K that I realize that I am a very strong person, physically and emotionally. This is not a high minded strength, it is a brute will to overlook my own needs and just move on, my subconscious will carry this out at any cost. So, if I can’t get a medical need addressed by a doctor than I will live with pain and if my mind becomes overwhelmed by fear or grief than I will pack it away and continue with life as if nothing ever happened. I want to be sure that Dr. K will not allow me to piss away my remaining time with him because of this survival technique. He looks me squarely in the eye and assures me that he will make sure to be aware of that and address it if he sees it happening. He tells me that I have been productive in therapy, that therapy is slow moving but the results are long lasting. His words are soothing, even if I am not entirely convinced of their veracity.
When I was thinking about blogging this the term “Here there be monsters” came to mind. When cartographers drew maps they filled in unknown waters with sea serpents and dragons, this practice extended to uncharted territories as well. The areas of my mind that are “blacked-out”, repressed, suppressed whatever you want to call it are now inhabited by the menacing unknown. I have ascribed giant, grotesque monsters of epic proportions to my forgotten past. They stand like Titans between me and my destiny. I believe now is the time launch my ship towards the horizon.
Tears of a bennu 