Today’s session was intense and heavy. R started the meeting and I began by thanking her for the email.

‘The intensity hasn’t changed at all. I say this as if I deserve a flaming medal, but Tuesday was the only day so far I haven’t cried.’

‘With the way you are measuring it, it’s almost like ‘I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to be somebody who cries every day.’

‘Exactly. This reminds me of early grief – not that I remember the emotions, but I remember the facts.’

‘You know the timeline.’ I went on to explain about the conversation I had with my support worker. ‘I felt as though the silence was a little weird, so I said ‘I don’t trust myself to speak at the moment.’

‘What was the process behind that? You didn’t want to cry?’

‘Exactly. Then it happened three times in the middle of our conversation.’

‘How do you feel after you have cried?’

‘Emotionally, I feel ashamed and embarrassed. Physically, my chest and shoulders ache.’

I mentioned that the choice between that and feeling numb was no choice at all.

‘It sounds as though you are in survival mode.’

‘The Critic would like to ban talking about before.’

‘The Critic can bugger off.’

‘Before all this happened, I felt as though I was reclaiming…getting my power back.’

‘And now there’s a hole in your fence, emotions are escaping, and you are trying to put the panel back, but you can’t find it. This survival mode feels a lot darker.’

‘It’s like survival mode without any of the things I need to make survival mode work.’ As I finished that sentence, I began to cry. R reassured me that I was safe, and she was there…at one point I thought she said something else.

‘No, I didn’t. I’m just sitting with you.’

‘Tidal waves are supposed to be a once in a while thing, not an every couple of days occurrence.’

‘When you say that, it helps me understand the intensity.’

‘There’s a word that is coming up for me that scares me to death. We’ve had a conversation about labels and both said we don’t like them. This word was used by another person to describe my experience…Depression.’
‘Do you feel depressed?’

‘My previous version of survival mode was one where I could be productive. I am struggling with motivation at the moment, and I know I am slipping because I can’t even listen to music.’ R and I had a chat about the structure of my days, which is almost non-existent.

She then said that she wanted to offer something. ‘I’m just going to bring in the word acceptance, and put it there. You don’t have to do anything with it, but don’t try to fight it.’

We ended up talking more about my conversation with my support worker. I mentioned that it was not the first time I had cried in front of her, and R picked up on my embarrassment. She made a comment to the effect of my not having had a conversation with myself about what would happen if I cried in front of my support worker.

‘Because of the kind of support I need, a certain level of vulnerability is to be expected, but that came as a surprise.’
R offered four things for me to consider as we brought the session to a close. She asked me to consider how acceptance might play a part in making me feel safer. She urged me to ‘Remember who you are, and the work you have done. That does not disappear. Reassure yourself that this is not forever. You are surviving.’
R said she had done a breathing exercise a few days ago that she wanted to share with me. We began by breathing in courage and exhaling fear, but eventually modified it to breathing in safety, and breathing out fear.
She asked me whether I felt OK to leave it there, and I said yes, I would email if anything came up.

‘And you’re welcome to do that.’ We set up for the same time next week.

On reflection, I refrained from talking about work, because I didn’t want to spend the whole session crying.