Today’s session felt really hard. I was there, but very much in my head. I went straight into telling R about the Work Capability Assessment, and the mental health conversation that ensued as a result. I expressed my surprise at the conversation taking place in front of a third party, and that the matter hadn’t been discussed with me before. I told her that I had a piece of paper prepared in case I couldn’t say the words. She asked whether that had been helpful, and I agreed that it had.

‘I thought I was coping pretty well.’
‘You mean, you actually thought you were coping well, or you were presenting as if?’
‘Presenting as if. A couple of days later, I went to the doctor to get my knees checked out after the fall.’
‘That was when you fell over in town?’
‘Yes. Mum said she would give me a few minutes with the doctor whilst she was examining my knees ‘in case I wanted to talk about anything else.’ I have actually skipped over an important point here. Mum told the social worker that she had spoken to the doctor, and she said ‘It’s a fine line.’ I am assuming a fine line between normal and pathological…well, not pathological, but you know what I mean.’

‘The word “depression” is coming up for me now, something we have discussed before. ‘A diagnosis of depression’. How did you feel during that conversation? Did you feel heard?’
‘No.’
‘And what happens when you don’t feel heard?’
‘I pull away. I withdraw. I retreat.’

I went on to say that I felt a sense of shock because I thought I had been projecting well.

‘Projecting?’

I explained about the Inner critic and their role in keeping me from speaking freely, and then recognised that we had veered off the subject of the doctor’s appointment. R asked whether I felt that the door to being open with my mother had closed. I said I wasn’t sure, but the last time I mentioned going to the doctor, the week before my experience in the cinema, I was met with a comment about social interaction. I mentioned to R that I worry about the impact that my stuff has on other people, and she reminded me of the work she had to do to convince me that she can take it, and it’s her responsibility to manage it if it affects her.

We had a bit more of a discussion about ‘speaking freely’, and what that means to me; how I find that in session is the only place I can speak freely.

‘I don’t mind if people walk up to my boundaries and nudge them, but stepping over them is another thing.’

‘So, to give an example…you don’t mind if people mention that you seem a little out of sorts, but if it’s more…’Come on! You’re not really here, are you?’, then it’s more difficult?’

‘Yes. And the inner critic was providing a lot of backtalk. I had been considering going back to the doctor’s for a while – and you know that me considering something is like preparing a legal case.’

‘Yes.’

‘But I wanted to talk to you first.’ I’m still not really sure why that was, but it seemed important at the time.

Then we finally got around to talking about the specifics of the doctor’s appointment.

‘As she was examining my knees, which was a painful experience…she asked me how I am in myself.’

‘That’s a good question…a very open question, and open questions are often the best.’

‘I went straight in with “I haven’t been sleeping very well”, and she asked me whether that was due to pain, or something else. If I wanted to completely dismiss my own experience, then what I said next is a good way of doing that. ‘Mental health stuff.’’

“Mental health stuff – was that what you said next?’

‘Yes. I wanted to say more, but I was finding it difficult to keep eye contact, and maintain the conversation, and keep the inner critic quiet.’

‘That sounds like a lot.’

‘It is.’

‘Is your doctor aware of the situation?’

‘Yes, I told her what had happened when I last spoke to her.’

I then decided that I was going to hand R the piece of paper I had prepared in case I couldn’t find the words.
She took it from me, and we continued to talk for a few moments more, and then she noticed the time and said she had better read it, because we only had five minutes left.

The upshot of it all was that I told her I don’t want to be afraid of my emotions any more.

‘And we both know how much I hate those bastards!’

‘So, it is important to me, once I am in that place of speaking freely, to be able to stay there…and you can help me with that.’