Tuesday has been my therapy day for about a year now, and yesterday was no exception...except that it was a therapy day like no other.
My first appointment was with Randy. He was eager to hear about how things had gone with EMDR Therapist the previous Thursday. I gave him a brief overview and then said that I'd had two concerns. One was about my file, which she was going to request. Would that include just his notes or also the things I'd written? He assured me it would just be his notes, but that he was reluctant to send even that because it would not really do her any good because his notes were completely illegible to anyone but him.
"I warned her about that," I laughed. "I said that she would never be able to decipher your hieroglyphics."
Randy said he would be more than happy to talk with her and bring her up to speed, and that a phone consultation between the two of them would be far more valuable to her than his notes.
Then I told him that she strongly recommended I not see him while in treatment with her, and that this had sort of thrown me for a loop. We discussed it, and he had some additional reasons for why it was not a good idea, and why New Therapist needs to be my primary therapist "for a season", as he put it. At the same time, he wanted me to know that he was not abandoning me; he was not getting rid of me by palming me off on someone else, etc. He liked my idea to check in with him now and then. We both agreed that I would call when I wanted to schedule an appointment.
I told him that I'd always imagined that I would taper off with him and that we would never really have an official "last session". He said something about tapering off of drugs versus quitting cold turkey and I laughed. I didn't think of him as a drug! (A friend later convinced me that, yes, our therapists are like drugs.)
We then talked about the bond that is formed by a healthy therapeutic relationship. I have been feeling increasingly upbeat over the past few days and the nice things he said about me didn't ruin that. I didn't even glare at him. He told me he would miss me, which made me feel all weird at first until I remembered that I miss my students when they leave, even if only for a break, and there is nothing sinister or inappropriate about that, and they don't act all jittery when they return and I tell them, "I missed you!"
He reminded me of some of the things we've worked through together...it was a nice conversation.
Then we caught up on the latest of what's been going on with me. He said that I looked much more at peace, much more hopeful, and I said that I felt that way as well.
It was a bit odd to say goodby to him and instead of "See you next Tuesday", to say "I'll call you when I want an appointment." He's going to be gone for a little over two weeks in August, so I'd be taking a little break anyway...which means that it will be New Therapist and me, just the two of us, on our own until at least September.
I had an hour break between that session and my one with New Therapist.
Even though it was only my second session with her, I felt fairly comfortable. It's not like I feel at home in her office yet, or that I feel a sense of connection with her yet, but I feel confident that we will be a good fit. She seems more "therapish" than Randy...more structured...although the funny thing is that she commented several times that she wasn't following her usual plan for a second session, that she was doing things in a much different order. I began to wonder why. Without meaning to, was I somehow throwing her off her game? Was Randy more structured with his other clients? Do I bring into therapy some sort of urge to go off on rabbit trails or to follow a different track? Or did she think that I needed some on-the-spot therapizing that couldn't wait?
Some half-joking comment that I made about a parenting book left on her couch made her stop everything and jump on why I tend to focus on the things I've done wrong rather than the things I've done right.
Then she was having me read a laminated list of "lies" that she pulled out of a small nearby filing cabinet. These were a bunch of negative statements such as "I am no good", "I am stupid", etc. She had me read them quietly and notice, without having to tell her, if any of them "popped out" at me, gave me a mental picture, or caused me to feel something emotionally and/or physically. At the end of the looooong list, I laughingly commented, "I say a lot of these to myself." Of course she couldn't let that go. She went into a thing about negative beliefs and gave examples of the difference between admitting I'd made a mistake or done something stupid versus calling myself an idiot. She also talked about evidence against that belief, again giving examples.
I'm not sure how it came up, but we started talking about the statement, "There is something wrong with me." I insisted it was true or I wouldn't be in therapy. She insisted there was nothing wrong with me (I wanted to say, "Oh, you don't know me yet!") and had some way of rephrasing it that didn't make a whole lot of sense to me because I didn't see the difference.
After that, she was asking me how things went with Randy, which prompted her to ask what I particularly "enjoyed" about therapy with him. We laughed about the word "enjoyed" and I talked about some of the things that I felt had been particularly beneficial to me. For some reason, I started talking about trust, and how huge it was for him to have gained my trust. I also mentioned that I'd had this fear, in the early months of therapy, that I would do something that would make him kick me out. Although I didn't say this to her, now that I think about it, what I was really trying to ask was, "No matter how difficult I become, no matter how 'bad' I am, will you still hang in there with me or will you abandon me?"
I think she picked up on that without my having to say it, because she asked me if other people in my life had "kicked me out" or physically abandoned me. "Not really...." I said, and then she asked if I had been emotionally abandoned. For some reason, this question gave me a lump in my throat. I stammered something...don't remember what...and she was suddenly asking me to remember the first time I ever felt that way. I tried to deflect the question with a joke, but that didn't work, so I told her about an incident at age 7...the time when I wept inconsolably...and how I was left all alone to cry for what seemed like hours...
Then she was writing something, sort of like a list, on the whiteboard she has on the wall. "Normally I would use an example to explain part of the process we will go through with EMDR, but I think I'll use your memory."
She had me come up with a title, something to call that experience. I said that I'd remember what "7 years old" meant. Then she asked what picture I saw in my mind...what emotions I felt about it...what physical sensations I felt (although she said we weren't going to explore that one today) and what thoughts or beliefs I had. She was helping me come up with these, not by suggesting anything, but by asking me questions. All this time, she was summarizing my answers in a kind of chart form on the whiteboard. She asked me, on a scale of 1-10, how distressed I felt, how strong my emotions were, how significant this situation was, or something like that. I wasn't completely overwhelmed, but I felt on the verge of breaking down and sobbing. I think that if Randy and I hadn't already talked about that very same situation...if this was the first time I was telling someone about it...I would have been completely undone. I told her it was a 9. That made me feel silly and like I was hugely overreacting to something long in my past, but I kept my mouth shut about that.
Next she asked me about my thought/belief, not what I was thinking then, but now. That one was harder to come up with. At first -- especially since I'd been berating myself silently for still being all upset over something I should be long over, telling myself that I'd hugely overreacted back then and was still overreacting -- I said, "There is something wrong with me." We talked about that and then I said really quietly, "I think what I believe is that no one really loves me. I mean, they love me up to a point, but they don't really...really...love me..."
"What does that make you believe about yourself?" she asked.
It was hard to get the words out. First of all, it seemed so over the top, so untrue...and so cliche. We sat there for a while. Finally I said, "I am unlovable." Then I issued all sorts of disclaimers, which she ignored while writing "I am unlovable" on the whiteboard and crossing out "There is something wrong with me."
"What would you really like to believe instead?" she asked.
"Huh?"
"What belief or thought would you like to replace this lie with?"
"Uh..." I had no idea. We talked about it and she came up with, "I am lovable. I was just a little girl who was heartbroken." Then she asked, "On a scale of 1 to 7, how strongly do you feel that is true? I'm not talking about whether or not you believe it, but how you feel, deep down inside, about it."
I felt like saying, "I hate putting things on number scales" but was afraid that either she would think I was trying to avoid answering her (partially true) or that she would feel a need to therapize me about my hatred of number scales. So I said, "3" because it felt safe and middle of the road. Then I elaborated, "I believe the second sentence. Not so sure about the first."
Then she explained this was the sort of memory we would use in an EMDR session. She talked about how these feelings, thoughts and beliefs, didn't just end at age 7, that they have followed me my entire life, and that I have set about attempting to prove or disprove "I am unlovable" ever since then. She even gave some specific examples, based on the little she knows about me so far.
Apparently we'll be looking at my present issues, and then looking back at their origins. She said something about doing EMDR for the "first time" we felt or experience something, the "worst time", and the "last time". Sometimes just taking care of the first time will automatically take care of then rest, but not always. Somewhere in the session, she had made the statement, "Anxiety is unresolved conflict". I kind of re-framed that, in my mind, as anxiety being caused by our stuck points, and as EMDR being a way to work past those stuck points.
In the course of all that, she asked me several times how I was doing. (This reminded me very much of the book "The Body Remembers". I'd mentioned it the previous session and she was familiar with it. Her approach seems similar in a lot of ways, as far as I can tell so far.)
She brought up Randy again. She acknowledged that I obviously had a bond with him after three years of therapy. She was comfortable with my "checking in" with him now and then. But she asked me to tell her if I found myself especially missing him or wanting a session with him, to see if there was something specific that I was missing that we could incorporate into our sessions. I didn't say anything, but I thought, It's not a specific technique that I will miss. It will be Randy himself and the rapport we built up. It will be the simple things, like being able to say "My mother called" and he will know by the tone of my voice and the look on my face exactly what that means. It will be the trust I have for him...the fact that he has always shown me a mind-boggling level of acceptance I never thought possible...
At the end of the session, she did a little 5 senses, grounding exercise to make sure I was doing ok. I thought it was a bit hokey but nice at the same time.
Overall, I feel optimistic. In some ways, I feel like I'm embarking on a new adventure or something...kind of like a bird leaving the nest but knowing she can always return...
