The plaster comes off

I spent two and a quarter hours with a psychotherapist today. With the aid of a whiteboard, green and red pens, a few tissues and a glass of water, we created a picture that showed my significant relationships. Every single one from my past involved invalidation of me, of my feelings. In the middle was a circle with the words “I don’t know who I am.”

The therapist (let’s call him H. He will be a regular feature so he needs a name of sorts), took a step back from his scribblings and observed that it is no wonder I am not too sure who I am. “I’m amazed you are standing”, came his response.

I am the sum of my coping strategies, I suggested. The children are testament to my ability to break a cycle of abuse. “Your children and grandchildren will reap the rewards of your ability to cope. Now let’s help you find value for yourself in all this” (or words to that effect; I am paraphrasing now, because I am pretty tired).

So, the wound analogy. The plaster is off. It’s been taken off before and the wound re-dressed by two courses of counselling and a course of CBT (if you justifiably need validation, don’t do CBT). I have many times removed the plaster, had a peep, and put the plaster back on. I am good at growing scabs.

The infection is real and ugly. What I thought would happen is that the plaster would come off and stay off. That I would have to wander around between sessions in H’s office with a gaping wound for all to see. What we did instead, with some validation and optimism, is put a clean plaster on for the week. I have been given some advice on how to keep it clean this week (let’s move away from the analogy for a moment – this means “look after your body, be gentle with your mind and here’s some emotions homework for you”).

H warned me that the process I will be going through is uncomfortable. It will be painful. It will involve recalling distressing events and trying to react to them in an authentic way. “When we see if a baby is okay in the womb, we check that the heart is beating before we check that the brain is growing.”

So how to proceed? By being careful, for now, to connect with validating people (I’ll learn how to cope better with the triggering, invalidating ones. This isn’t for my ego, it’s to stop causing myself distress while the wound is so raw). By practising exquisite self care. The coping strategies I have used are all worthy (when not taken to extremes), so they must continue. Therapy for the brain doesn’t mean that the body can take a back seat.

Finally, I need to believe that this will all feel better one day. I’m drawing some more circles now. Full of names of the people who love and support me. The people I trust. Both my past and my present are realities. I need to grieve the past realities and learn to really feel the full joy of the present ones. I think I will.