Today’s session started off being about anger, but ended up being about self-compassion. R arrived and then said:
‘I’ve left something I had for you in the car – I’ll be right back.’ She came back in and handed me a piece of paper with three typed statements.
‘I hope that helps as a reminder within our relationship.’
‘Thank you…’ I took a deep breath. ‘Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome.’
‘I have had a difficult time keeping it together since last week. A couple of micro-anniversaries happened. The 29th of November is the anniversary of George Harrison’s death…We’ve been working together for three years, you know how I feel about George Harrison.’
‘Yes.’

‘The day after was the anniversary of my starting the blog.’

‘Was that a coincidence?’
‘No…it was intended. I believe there’s a heightened creative energy around that time, a Georgeness, if that makes sense.’
‘It does.’
‘That ties it all together actually. You asked me why I hadn’t mentioned the blog. The original purpose of the blog was to chronicle my experience in the aftermath of Chris’ death, and if certain other things hadn’t happened, or I hadn’t got caught up in the situation, it would have run its course by December or January. As it was, it reached 15,000 people, and that is amazing. Something I did reaching that many people.’
‘It truly is.’
‘And yet, when I woke up on the 30th, my first thought was ‘It’s all a lie, it’s all a lie, it’s all a lie.’
‘Was the blog about the experience, or your feelings, or a kind of ‘how to’?’
‘I started writing about my feelings, but it led to writing for other websites when other people discovered it.’
‘I think we talked about this last week. The events did not happen, but you had an emotional response. Your feelings happened.’
‘I didn’t take any action on it, because I put so much work in that it feels self-destructive, but the 30th of November may as well be called Delete The Blog Day.’
‘You wanted to get rid of it?’
‘I thought to myself “Should I write something? Or should I delete the blog?” It is still there. The home page is a letter I wrote in 2013 or 2015 about my work taking me in a different direction. I could not have known what would happen next.’
‘When you talk like that, I see you reflecting back, and then you catch yourself and counter with what you know now…and you sort of devaluate…I’ve made up another word, I need my own dictionary…or invalidate yourself.’
‘When I tried to write something, the words would not come, or I could not find the words. Confusing writing with Scrabble.’
‘Where are my words?’ We laughed.
‘I always think there will be an end point to my drawings, but not yet. When the words wouldn’t come, I drew this.’
‘I love these! Do you want to explain it to me?’
‘Central figure…obviously. Less obviously, me.’ I pointed to a figure on ‘my’ left. ‘Those people or the Critic. Actually, Critic…and those people in the background. The gold figure on the right…you.’
R pointed out that the placement was interesting. I look like I am stepping on the Critic’s foot, whilst ‘she’ is behind me. I explained that the placement is different because this one was drawn freehand, as I have misplaced my guide. R said it would be interesting to compare this latest piece with the others.
‘It would be interesting to compare with ‘The Story Keeper.’ I said I would bring that next week.
Then we moved into the meat of the session – my inexpressible anger. I started to talk about the way in which those people infringed on my boundaries.
‘I said “Please don’t send the photographs”, and they sent eight sodding emails full of pictures and videos.’
‘Keep going,’ R urged softly.
‘I did not need to feel like I was in the room. For what they sent me, they may as well have sent the medical reports.’ I mentioned that Chris hadn’t discussed health stuff with me until she had to.
‘It sounds like what you experienced with Chris was true give and take. Quite rare in any relationship. There wasn’t much being given in the other…’
‘And what was given was part of the ruse. We didn’t want to tell you this, but…’ There is no but.’ In that conversation I paused twice for breath, and wished I had some water.
‘They made it impossible for me to offer my compassion, the best part of me. Before I would have willingly emptied my cup.’
‘What jumps out at me there is emptied. Not given half. At that time it seems to me that your boundaries were way down, and they trampled them further. As somebody who cares about you, I feel anger on your behalf.’
R continued: ‘If you are walking in the desert with someone and you empty your cup into theirs, it does not work.’
‘That’s the end.’
‘You can still be an empath and a compassionate person if you keep half your cup.’

R apologised for going a bit deep at the end, and triple-checked I was OK. Two more sessions before the break, and we will resume on the 9th of January.