It’s been a while since I have had a therapy session where I felt like I was speaking in tongues. What I wanted to say and what ended up coming out of my mouth were two different things. I had to fend the Critic off even more than usual.
‘The Critic has been very vocal this week. Lots of past stuff coming up about getting close to my emotions and then retreating.’ I wanted to mention P by name, but I didn’t.
‘It seems to me that you have maybe never allowed yourself to get that close to your feelings with someone before? What you experienced last week struck me as really real…not that I experience you as not real…but an authentic expression of your feelings.’
‘True.’

I showed her the drawing, but didn’t say anything specific about her as the symbol of safety. ‘It’s been a while since we had a new one of these.’
‘I remember when you had them spread out on the floor. If I recall correctly, these are all aspects of you and your feelings?’
‘Not all…all except that one.’
‘So, can you talk me through this?’
‘The central figure is sadness and grief.’
‘Yes.’
‘The figure to the side is anger, whilst the figure on the other side represents safety. The figures in the background represent the stuff that is always there.’
I continued ‘Whilst I was tracing the base layer – I trace these because there’s no hope of getting them perfect every time – I felt a wave of…sadness is a small thing, and yet grief…yes, grief. Whatever it was, it was strong enough that I had to get up and walk away.’
We talked some more about this and I eventually said ‘The Critic says I can’t function with that level of vulnerability. I don’t drink alcohol, but this week reminded me of the quarter of a glass of Prosecco I had at friend’s wedding for toasts. It took me the rest of the next day to feel OK, and this week was a bit like that.’
‘It seems as though it takes you physical energy to process emotions.’

There were moments throughout the session where I lapsed into silence and R sensed me struggling to express myself. ‘It sounds as though you don’t know what to do with yourself.’

‘Yes, it’s exhausting, and then there’s still the flaming bathroom.’

We talked about how the Critic needs fear to function, and although there was pain last week, there was no fear. R said that it was triggered when I answered the door to her, which kind of didn’t sit well with me. The release happened then because I felt safe enough. She said that if it had been the postman that knocked on the door, my reaction would have been different.
I talked about how those people kept me scared, to the point that I couldn’t release any of the emotion. R remarked that this sounded like an ‘unhealthy, imposed’ fear rather than a natural fear of something that is unsafe.
‘Last week was the most vulnerable I have ever been, but also the safest I have felt in two years.’
‘As hard as it was, I saw that and felt connected to you. I don’t want to use the word, but it is the first word that comes to mind. You may still feel a little bit traumatised by what happened last week, so be kind to yourself.’
‘I may regret this, but next week I want to go there. [There being focusing on the bathroom scene, that scene…]’
I couldn’t look her in the eye as I said the next bit: ‘If last week taught me anything, it’s that I can feel safe with you.’
R apologised for not giving me more notice, but she didn’t want to spring it on me last week considering where we ended up. Next week will be the last session before Christmas.