Alternative Resourcing: Thinking Outside the EMDR Protocol Box

For years I have used Eye Movement Desensitizationand Reprocessing (EMDR) as a major weapon in my battle against complex trauma. My therapist, a well-rounded social worker who understands the importance of a client-centered approach, was trained in EMDR nearly six years ago and I was fortunate enough to be offered this treatment right after her training. In the years to come we have both learned a lot from the processing I have done.

Before I get into the meat of it, let me take a minute to define some basic EMDR terms. Bilateral stimulation: outside stimulation that causes both sides of the brain to engage, which may include: following a finger or light source back and forth with your eyes, hearing binaural tones through headphones, plastic eggs that are held in the hands and alternate pulsations, and alternating left and right tapping on the upper arms, hands, or knees. Processing: use of bilateral stimulation with the goal of changing a target (image/memory) from a negative experience with a negative belief (i.e.- memory of abuse with the belief "I am a horrible person") to a neutral/less horrible experience with a neutral or positive belief (i.e.- memory of abuse now with the belief "It wasn't my fault"). Resourcing: use of shorter sets of bilateral stimulation with the goal of installing positive attributes via memory or image, positive emotions, and positive belief (i.e. the memory of being held as a child, feeling calm/safe, and the belief "I am safe and cared for"). Tapping in: tapping oneself on the arms, legs, knees, alternating left and right. Normally only a short series (3-6 sets) of taps to reinforce a resource. Keeping it short is key so that you don't end up processing. Personally, I recommend practicing tapping in to yourself with your clinician so that you get the feel for how short the taps should be and you learn your body's response to this technique.

One of the things my therapist and I found out right away is that I am very sensitive to processing and need some resourcing after processing in order to ensure that I am back to a better mindset after processing. Even when I felt good after processing, I found that without resourcing I would go home and experience dreams and flashbacks days after the session. Another thing I found is that sometimes just resourcing was enough to get me through the trauma responses I was having. A lot of my needs surrounded feeling uncertain, vulnerable, and unsafe; something most trauma survivors can relate to. With resourcing I was able to reinforce the confidence and competence I had already in me. At any given time I was able to think of the images I resourced and feel better, often tapping in the feeling to deepen the connection.

Lately I have started in on a trauma that has literally haunted me for years. Nightmares, flashbacks, and panic attacks plagued me on and off along with feelings of shame, guilt, embarrassment, and hopelessness.  My recent increase in these trauma symptoms has not surprised me as I know some of the deep emotional and spiritual work I have been doing in and out of therapy the last year has lead me to a place where I am ready to begin to work through this trauma. When I began the prep work with my therapist we both knew that this was not going to be like any other trauma I have processed. This trauma in itself was complex, held many core issues for me, and was going to take time to work through. As we talked about what I needed and what ground work needed to be done, it became obvious that I was going to need some new resources.

Ever the diligent client, I went and reached out to others who have experienced similar issues. Most reported that they needed a lot of varied resources in order to feel confident enough to start their processing, but I knew just adding traditional resources was not going to be enough. I went back and reread Dr. Jamie Marich's book EMDR Made Simple, after having a long discussion with Jamie about my situation. In addition to helping me map out a plan for processing secondary gains prior to trauma processing (which I will share in another post), Jamie also lead me to the idea of what I like to call alternative resourcing.

I use the term "alternative" not because I think of this as a new-agey, out-there type of resourcing, but because it provides a viable alternative to what many EMDR practitioners consider the holy grail of resources: the Safe Space. Not to say that the safe space isn't a valid option, it just is not the only option. Having a place, either real or imagined, that you can bring up in your mind that feels safe is GREAT. However, what if safety isn't what you really need? What if you need confidence, a feeling of happiness, joy, or competence? There are more traditional resourcing strategies for these emotions; you can use imagery or memories that create these feelings and resource those. Alternative resourcing goes a little further- it uses more than just images to access the emotional state you want to build a stronger connection to.

The basic idea behind alternative resourcing is to use other senses to either enhance a resourced image or in place of an image. Before I delve too far in, let me first explain that the approach my therapist and I use for resourcing is slightly different than "traditional" methods. Instead of setting up the image, where I feel it in my body, the emotions behind it and then attempting to hold it all together, my therapist just lets me talk. I describe the image, often closing my eyes, talking about how it made me feel and my therapist alternately taps on my left and right knees at intervals she sees as pertinent based on my affect. She may ask questions to clarify or encourage me to go deeper, but overall I lead the resourcing, which seems to add a lot of meaning and makes it easier for me to connect my memories/images with my emotions.  This confirms a feeling I have had for a long time- the protocols set forth by Dr. Shapiro and EMDRIA are wonderful, but a good therapist who knows her client will be able to tweak EMDR in order to meet the client where they are at and to obtain the maximum benefit.

The first thing my therapist and I attempted to alternatively resource was a lotion that I use to help me sleep and that carries happy memories. I alternated between taking deep breaths and describing the feelings that came with the scent. Before the bilateral stimulation I was already feeling deeply calm and relaxed. Adding the tapping lead me to a much deeper place where suddenly I was able to leave the nagging fears and thoughts behind and just enjoy the scent and my experience. After several series of taps, I was able to smell the lotion and bring up the feeling without trying. I could already feel the power behind this alternative resource. Since the first time resourcing this, I have started every resource session re-tapping in the lotion scent and the calm it brings. It helps me relax and fully engage with any other resourcing I may be doing.

The second thing I resourced was a small, furry kitty-shaped tape measure. It's an orange tabby, resembling my cat, Bodhi, who has been with me for the past 7 years. As I closed my eyes and focused on rubbing/petting the mini-Bodhi I felt compelled to talk about getting my cat and the joy he brings me. I talked about how he always seems to know when I'm upset and how petting him brings me a feeling of peace, calm, and safety. As I talked, I petted the kitty tape measure, and my therapist did the alternate knee tapping. Again, I found myself transported into a deep sense of security and calm, much stronger than any image I had resourced previously.

With both the lotion and mini-Bodhi, I found that I was combining sensation, emotion, memory/image, and body reactions without having to be prompted. They were natural combinations and I think that is what made the resourcing so successful. In the days to come I found that I was able to transfer the calm/serene/safe feelings from the targets (lotion/mini-Bodhi) to a broader range of items. I get an immediate sense of deep calm when smelling anything similar to the lotion I initially used (though the closer to the scent, the deeper the connection it seems). Also, when I pet the real Bodhi, I find myself right back to the happy and calm place I was in on my therapist's couch. I continue to tap in every time I activate these alternative resources and the results have been amazing.

The after-effects of nightmares no longer plague me as I am now able to use resources that not only comfort but help me to stay grounded and in the moment. Panic attacks and emotional flashbacks are easier to navigate and the daily living issues I have had are dulled now that I have these defenses in place. 

I still use other images I have resourced in addition to the lotion and mini-Bodhi, sometimes I combine them in order to relax even further. This has been a major blessing, as current events in my life have prevented me from being able to process trauma, but the resourcing I'm doing is helping me to maintain and live without letting PTSD symptoms control my life.  It is amazing to me what happens when clinicians are willing to allow their clients to mold therapeutic modalities to fit what they need.

From Divine Being to Dear Friend

The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines a crush as " a strong feeling of romantic love for someone that is usually not expressed and does not last a long time." In my life I have had many text-book crushes, but as I get older I realize the word tends to encompass a feeling not always romantic in nature. For me, a "celebrity crush" is something that happens when the want to become emotionally closer to someone you view as a mentor is so great it begins to exhibit the same symptoms as a romantic crush. The person may be someone you actually know (teacher, therapist, etc) or someone you don't know personally but look up to (religious leader, public speaker, author, etc). While I don't yearn for romantic relationships outside of my marriage, the presence of crushes in my life is still abundant.

 The first non-romantic crush I had was on a high school teacher. After graduating she became both my mentor and friend and I was obsessed with her. I wanted to help her, take care of her, and be the main part of her life. There were no sexual feelings attached, I simply wanted to be a part of her world. Unfortunately this relationship ended abruptly and harshly after I attempted to find autonomy from our enmeshed lives. Looking back, it is no shock to me that my obsession with her began around the same time I began to take my mother off of the childhood pedestal I had kept her own for so many years.

 At the time, I was slowly piecing together that my mother was a human who was not perfect and had let me down. It was a process so upsetting that I even forcefully argued with my therapist over the impact my mother had had in my life. I insisted she hadn't let me down, upset me, or treated me unkindly, ever. As I began to realize that my childhood hadn't been perfect (whose has?!) I looked to find someone to replace my mother on the pedestal that I felt I needed in order to have someone to look up to. Like many before me, I was banking on the idea that whomever I looked up to had to be some sort of fairy-tale goddess, there to save me from myself.

As I watched yet another woman fall off of my pedestal, I struggled to be without a goddess to model myself after. Since then I have had a steady stream of pedestal goddesses and they have never actually saved me from myself. They have helped me to realize who I am and to strive to grow to my full potential, but none of them have been perfect or able to erase all my problems. I like to think I've matured in my taste for the women whom I develop celebrity crushes on, picking individuals who refuse to play into the role of divine being and insist on challenging my perspective on what a mentor is.

I, like many, went through the rite of therapeutic passage that is having a crush on your therapist. Like the obsession with my high school teacher, it was never sexual in nature, but purely a "please adopt me" situation. To clarify, this developed around the time I had ended my friendship with my former teacher and returned to my home state after living cross-country for a year. I was ripe for a new goddess to place on my pedestal and my therapist was the only source of encouragement I had at the time.

I was working on going back to college and my therapist was there, encouraging my change of degree (from English to Psychology) and my decision to pursue my dream of becoming a social worker. She was practically asking to be deified! I became obsessed, talking about my therapist all the time to friends and living therapy session to therapy session. I craved the attention, support, and commitment she gave me. Eventually I realized it for what it was: a deep desire to be included in her life because I didn't believe I could ever live my life in that manner. She was exactly what I wanted to be: a self-assured, independent, forward thinking, social worker living her life and teaching others to do the same. Eventually I was able to take a step back and appreciate the aspects of my therapist that I wanted to emulate. I still look up to her and strive to be able to live my life in such a fulfilling manner, but I've finally begun to see her as a human instead of some goddess whose word is law.

 My most recent crush was taken off of the pedestal when I realized I couldn't befriend her and idolize her at the same time. It started off a social media mutual stalking situation (I'm told the more publically accepted term is "networking") that gave way to me utilizing her services as a retreat leader. This then morphed into a very special friendship that simply had no room for pedestals. In being able to analyze my motives for seeking her out (her opinions on the mental health system, recovery, and life in general both complimented and challenged my own beliefs) I was able to realize I wasn't looking for a goddess anymore. I was looking for a friendship. A deep-seated relationship based on mutual admiration for each other's views and beliefs. And that is exactly what we have.

Do I still find myself emotionally drawn to her, and others, from time to time? Certainly. I think it's perfectly natural to yearn for growth and betterment. But am I still obsessed and crazed like I was with my high school teacher? Certainly not. Reality has kicked in and I know now that I cannot fill the hole that was created when my mother came off of her (imagined) pedestal. Disappointment, fear, and need naturally come out of the realization that our parents are not the perfect beings we once imagined. The pedestal also served a sadder purpose: to keep me believing that I would never be good enough to be accepted. By having someone who was "ideal" on a pedestal, I always had someone to compare myself to in order to see just how "bad" or far from ideal I was. This perpetuation of the core belief that I can never be enough has helped to keep me in a comfortable position: depression and despair. I know that this may not seem comfortable to most, but when you have lived a large percentage of your life in crisis and depression, it becomes the norm. The norm is horribly comfortable.

 Thankfully, I have finally started to overcome these beliefs and grow up emotionally. Growing up means realizing that this need for a goddess on a pedestal is not really a need, per se, it's really a want. I wanted someone to save me, to keep me safe, and to make my life easier. I wanted the safety and security of childhood. All of these wants are okay (and perfectly normal during the stages of emerging adulthood), but in order to continue moving forward with life it was necessary to accept that I cannot have everything I want. This is exactly why the dictionary states that crushes are often undisclosed and pass rather quickly; humans are resilient and able to overcome desire in order to focus on necessity.

 Crushes, no matter the form, teach us something deep about ourselves. They allow us to see what we want in our lives, what we desire from others, and what life can be if we follow our dreams. Acknowledging these "celebrity crushes" and using the information to move forward towards our potential is something that can help make our feelings seem a little less overwhelming. By being able to say "I love that person for who they are, I admire their attributes, and I want to bring those same attributes into my life" I have been able to overcome my need to deify those who I look up to. Instead of beating myself up for such "childish" behaviors, I try to commend myself for being able to recognize my obsession for what it truly is: just a crush.

Boundaries: Stop Guessing!

I care for my therapist. That's a hard sentence to type. I grew up with the belief in firm boundaries with providers. Therapists and doctors are meant to help with specific problems. As I grew up, I fell very hard into black and white thinking. Either you are in control or you are not. Either you are living or existing. Either you are professional or you are ineffective. School reinforced this- don't care for your teachers. Don't make friends with them. I tested this out and was able to find comfort in my "inappropriate" relationships with teachers, but there was always a time limit. Eventually, you move on, graduate, and make "real" friends.

The problem with my therapist is I'm not moving on anytime soon. I enjoy self exploration and don't foresee that stopping anytime soon. I'm embarrassed to admit this comforts me. I enjoy my relationship with my therapist and I feel that this is bad. I still can't quite figure out why, but every fiber in my being seizes up and wants to retract when I begin talking about my therapeutic relationship. The discrepancy between the "rules" and practical application of a therapeutic relationship has created a confusion that is very frustrating. It's even more vexing because I have been lead to believe that mentioning these boundaries is a taboo subject.

I started off with very simple boundaries for therapy: go, talk, leave it at the door. However, life's problems are not so accommodating. They refuse to just be left at a therapist's office. Everywhere I went, there they were! The first few therapists I had never made an attempt to extend their services beyond the therapy room. In fact, when I went inpatient they wouldn't attempt to allow for contact until whatever follow-up program I was sent to was completed. The lack of consistency lead to frustration when each therapy team member had different goals for my progress. Around my fifth hospitalization someone finally realized the inconsistency and insisted on me starting with a therapist willing to work with the team the college I was attending had set in place for me. I would have no clue what kind of life-altering event this was until years later.

This therapist, who is my current therapist, started changing my views on boundaries nearly immediately. The first text I ever received was sent to me at the beginning of 2004. It was one simple line, "we're meeting at 5 on Tuesday, right?" and it blew my mind. I replied, sending my very first text, with a simple answer of "yes." Suddenly I didn't know what to think. My therapist was using an alternative means of communication. This lead me to a very scary realization: my therapist is human!

She challenged me a few months later when I had had a late-night crisis. She asked why I didn't call and I couldn't form the words to say, "because I'm not supposed to." She recognized my discomfort with the subject, but continued to encourage me to attempt to call her when I needed to. Eventually, I called. I'm still not 100% comfortable calling her, but now it's a viable option. Calling gave way to emailing her when I moved cross-country. Not only did she reply, but she continued to counsel me while attempting to find a therapist, and then again when my therapist broke up with me while I was inpatient. She emailed/phone coached me until I was settled. When I returned to my home state, she was still there, willing to take me back on. Email became an option for non-emergent crisis and telling parts of my story I was too embarrassed to bring up during therapy. The lines kept blurring for me, as I felt these were positive interaction, but I was being taught by my degree program that these out of the office interactions lead to dreaded "dual relationships" with clients. I kept my mouth shut, silently trying to rectify this discourse within myself.

Eventually my social media found her social media, as I began to find my voice in the social media world as a psychology student and advocate. This lead to a quick discussion on the fact that it was "ok" for me to friend her professional twitter account. Even though my twitter account is also professional, I still haven't followed her for fear of crossing a line that, I'm pretty sure, is just in my head. I've pressed my own limits a few times: she and I exchanged gifts when I left for OR and she has given me CDs and books to help feed my ever-growing appetite for self help sundries. I've given her a book or two along the way as well. All of this has muddled the gray area for me and left me uneasy as to where the line is.

Last year I breached what I felt was a very firm barrier only to find my therapist sticking to her firm stance of non-judgment and unconditional care . I expected to be let go because of my actions, which included sending a very upsetting suicide note to her email, but instead I was given the opportunity to speaking freely about how I felt. I sincerely did not want to, afraid admitting to what I wrote would end up being held against me. Ironically, it wasn't the things I wrote about death, dying, and self hatred I was terrified to admit, but the tender sentiments I wrote to my therapist about her place in my life. Why can I say "I care for you" when I'm nearly dead, but can't admit to saying that when I'm in my right mind?

Recently this came up again and my therapist wasn't having the attempt to gloss it over. She confronted it head on, wanting to understand my embarrassment and other emotions that speaking about our relationship brought up. She actually said the words "I care for you" and I thought I was going to pass out. Not in a good, excited way, but more in a fully mortified and I-want-this-couch-to-eat-me-now sort of way. She's not supposed to say stuff like that! I'm not supposed to be cared for like that by her!

Up until now I've gone with the idea that I could be anyone and my therapist would do the same. In my head, I'm not special, she's just a special and caring person. But perhaps I am special. Maybe my care is very person-centered and the extra time in sessions when I needed it, and the out of office support, isn't just a generic service, but based on what my therapist can give and what I need. What then? Well then I have to admit that we do have a relationship, she does genuinely care for me, and I am worth spending time on. She believes in me. She's advocated, pushed for me, pushed me, and pushed herself (I'm guessing here, but it's pretty obvious that I have brought about some unique and trying circumstances) in order to not just meet my basic needs, but to help me on a much more complex, and humanistic, level.

That someone would think of me first and be so selfless baffles me. And yet, I do the same. I can't claim I have the same relationship with all of my residents or that I care for them each in the same way. I don't attempt to. Some residents I am close with, while some I will never develop a strong relationship with, but still care for them, just on a different level. And yet other residents I have developed a strong bond with and do some things, when appropriate, above and beyond, when I can, to help them. Some have even touched my heart in such a way that I am forever changed by our time spent together. It's just hard to translate the bond I have with a kid who needs my help to the bond my therapist has with me. This means I'm the person who needs, and deserves, help and support.

After ten years of avoiding boundary talks, I have learned something very important: Not only is it NOT a taboo subject, it's what you SHOULD be discussing with your therapist. This doesn't make it any easier for me to broach the subject, but this knowledge does give me the push I need to not run out of the room screaming. I'm still attempting to define where the line is. Maybe there never was a line. Perhaps boundaries are just about expressing what you need and want out of a relationship instead of making assumptions out of sweeping generalizations. Maybe it isn't about boundaries at all, but about human connections and relationships.

Regardless of my inability to accept caring graciously, I have learned that it's okay to discuss whatever I'm feeling with my therapist- that's what she's there for! Too many times have I gone without the care I need because I was too upset/embarrassed/afraid to approach a subject. I'm learning that it's okay to ask and it's okay if the other person, be it therapist, friend, or coworker, is taken aback by it. Part of learning to have meaningful interactions is learning that the reactions of others are not for us to determine or worry about. When the focus is communicating, instead of making everyone comfortable, better understanding can be reached for everyone involved.

My Shenpa is Showing

"Shenpa is the urge, the hook, that triggers our habitual tendency to close down." - Pema Chodron

The therapist who runs a support group I attend loves to remind us that when we immediately close down or react without being able to hear further explanation that our shenpas are "showing." Pema Chodron points out that shenpa is a Tibetan word that literally means "attachment." When we get stuck in feelings of despair, self-deprecation, anger, or fear this is shenpa. In the clinical world, I hear the term triggered used to describe the same thing; something has brought about a reaction and we become stuck in the feelings brought up. Shenpa is a word I have thought about, prayed on, meditated with, and discussed a lot recently.

In the past 72 hours I've had several interactions where my shenpa swooped in, took hold, and refused to let go. What should have been a simple interaction with co-workers turned into an hour discussion that was ineffective and frustration. We were all tired, frustrated, and reacting. Not one of us was really hearing what the others had to say because we just weren't in the right space. When I realized the futility of the situation I attempted to point out that perhaps the discussion should take place at a later time and date. I watched as defenses went up and one of my coworkers took this to mean he was not doing his job right. Suddenly I'm being told to stop making excuses and to just deal with the situation as it comes. He pointed out that I was "obviously" tired and letting my outside world effect my job, which he sees as breaking a cardinal rule.

In that moment my shenpa jumped up, threw its arms around me, and squeezed tight. I became defensive and upset, crying and frustrated, and even more ineffective than before. I was consumed with thoughts of being judged, blamed, and used as a "whipping boy." I stayed stuck in this reaction, allowing it to consume me, and it made the next hour pretty miserable. Finally, I stopped fighting it. I acknowledged my reaction, my fear, my sadness, my shenpa, and let it be for a moment. I sat with it and suddenly the claws that held me loosened. I went a step further and practiced a forgiveness meditation I recently learned and felt even better. I forgave myself and my coworker for being human and forgave myself for judging. For once I stopped fighting my emotions and let them be.

In the Rumi poem, "The Guesthouse," it is suggested that emotions are like visitors and that they should all be welcomed. The poem goes on to explain that even emotions that wipe us out may be doing so just to make room for new and better things. I first heard "The Guesthouse" at a retreat several months ago. This was the beginning of the next (my current) chapter of healing.  The poem stirred something deep inside me when I realized that I had been treating my emotions so harshly. I was attempting to turn away "bad" emotions and trying to force in "good" emotions. I knew then I had to start rethinking my approach to emotional healing and regulation.

Yesterday morning proved me human, once again. An interaction I had with an associate left me feeling unworthy, unheard, and full of despair. I took the words and tone personally, not thinking about the fact that she was dealing with her very own shenpa. Thankfully, I am surrounded by loving and caring friends and was able to reach out and get a reality check. I also took a minute to practice that forgiveness meditation once again. Forgiveness is not a onetime thing; every moment is a chance to forgive yourself (and others) again and again.

The interactions we have are so important in helping us reach our highest potential. Shenpa is NOT a bad word. It is just an insight into the nature that makes us human. Being aware doesn't mean filtering every reaction to be perfect; that's unrealistic. It just means we are able to better to acknowledge when we get emotionally stuck, which leads us to un-stick ourselves quicker.

Acknowledge you are human and forgive yourself. Allow your emotions to come and go without fighting or forcing. There is no need to beat yourself up for something you can't help. Every day, every experience, every moment is a learning moment. Allow yourself to learn and grow without judgment. 

I invite you to take a few minutes out of your day and try this self-forgiveness meditation by Tara Brach: Forgiveness

Mindful Self-Compassion

"One of the anomalies of wounded human nature is that we do not accept the very answer we seek when it is given because we have become so accustomed to pain and confusion" [i]

In the midst of self-loathing, doubt, and frustration over the many "whys" in life, I was sent pages of a book that contained the quote above. For a moment my world stopped and I was quiet because someone, somewhere had felt the same way I did and took the time to acknowledge this feeling of comfortable discomfort. Tears filled my eyes as I realized that all the frustration I was experiencing was human and normal.

Lately I have found myself repeatedly thinking about the role self compassion and forgiveness plays in basic living. Time and again I find others talking about how important both compassion and forgiveness are, but as parts of specific circumstances and not an everyday practice. Post car crash I've spent a lot of time arguing with myself over whether I should be allowed to ask for help with my anxiety/emotional response. On one hand, I've had anxiety all my life and the accident was my fault. On the other hand, it was a traumatic event and were it anyone else I would tell them that it's natural to be anxious and to need support. Suddenly I find myself once again arguing over whether it's "okay" to be self-compassionate.

Unfortunately, blaming myself and ignoring the emotional need for healing comes easily to me. I can remind myself that it was an accident, that these things happen, and that it is okay to go on living, showing myself compassion for the lost car, missed work days, and the physical healing I have to do. When it comes to the emotional side, I forget all about self-care and accept anxiety and fear as natural consequences that I deserve. I use the excuse of "deserving" to feel horrible as a way to stay stuck in the pain and suffering that I have grown accustomed to.

For the first day back at work, I accepted the panicked feelings and chest pain as "necessary" and "normal." I'm told, however, that coming into work and feeling as if I'm having a heart attack is not a normal thing. I pushed through, never even acknowledging that it was hard for me. By day two I was becoming weary of the constant state of anxiety. I knew I couldn't go on like that, but I still couldn't fathom asking for help. Today will be day three back at work and I'm not sure what to expect, but since I haven't yet changed my approach, I don't think much of my reaction will change.

I know I will feel  like the world is ending for those few seconds I pass the turn off to the road I crashed on. I can't imagine actually turning down that road and driving past that red light. Driving into work I will probably freak at the slightest hint of a possible collision, as I have been doing for days. I may get teary-eyed at the most random times and find myself unable to handle the stress of managing five teenage girls at the same time. I will manage to come in, act "as if," run the shift without incident and then go home. On the way home I will probably make up for not eating most of the day by stopping for fast food- something that up until last weekend I had managed to stay away from in order to live a healthier life.  All of this is unable to change until I decide to change it.

I know the answer I seek is trusting in my support network and healing rituals. I know I'm capable of the prayer, conversation, and allowance to feel that is necessary to start healing. I even know that I can trust in that network because lately I've been attempting to use it. It's embarrassing to admit, but the truth is that up until recently I didn't really have one. I had a therapist, wife, and family that I could sometimes go to. I had a friend here and there, but I didn't really trust in the fact that they would accept me in times of need. Now I have friends, co-workers, and professionals I can trust to guide, help, accept, and witness my time of need. Accepting this as an answer means accepting that maybe I don't  have to suffer in order to live.

As someone who has gone through developmental and complex trauma, living a life without suffering is inconceivable. As a mental health worker who fully believes in the potential of all people to live life to their fullest potential, continuing to live with suffering is inconceivable. It is the profound conundrum that is my life. One thing I know for sure is that I have the power to change my suffering into splendor.

In order to start on that path to change I have to find the compassion within me to let go and move on from the things I "should have" done. I will start by attempting to be kind to myself and acknowledge that right now some things are hard for me and that's OK. Just saying the phrase "this is hard" and breathing in and out is a positive change. I will attempt to take it one moment at a time and recommit to self-care and compassion anytime I notice myself judging or criticizing.

While this may sound simple to some, it really isn't. Acknowledging my flaws and being mindful of them is something that is extremely hard to do. Being mindful in quiet meditation is hard enough, but living mindfulness is even more challenging. Distractions will come and that will be okay because the point of mindfulness is to bring yourself back to the moment. And if the moment isn't suffering that's STILL mindfulness. It's not about being mindful of just your suffering and what you want to change, but being mindful of your whole being. I will set the intention to be compassionate towards myself today and I will make an effort to stay mindful of how I treat myself throughout the day.

Healing isn't about major breakthroughs and accomplishments, it's about living each day a little better than the last.

---

[i] Groeschel, B. J. (1984). Spiritual passages: the psychology of spiritual development "for those who seek". New York: Crossroad.

Creating The Woman I Want To Be

Tonight I had a long conversation with a friend whom I don't get to talk to on the phone nearly often enough. She was pondering the dynamics of relationships on several levels and it lead me to realize the amount of neglect people tend to have for their relationships with themselves. We spend hours pondering the "whys" and "hows" of our interactions with others, but how many times do we really do the same with ourselves? For many of us, the answer is "never" or "not often." Several times throughout the conversation the topic of self-compassion and care came up and though we joked about how self care doesn't come easy to us, the sad truth is it doesn't come easy to many.

After this eye-opening phone conversation, I took a few moments to really reflect on what we had talked about. I came to the disheartening conclusion that even having compassion towards myself for being such a mean inner critic is hard. I beat myself up and then beat myself up for beating myself up. It's an endless circle of self-violence that is truly pointless. The hard truth of the matter is that my lack of self compassion is holding me back from becoming the woman I want to be.

A great example of this would be the events that happened after totaling my car on Sunday. I was heading out on my break to do a couple of errands and suddenly I find myself at an intersection with two other damaged vehicles, police, and EMS personnel. After making the frantic call to my job to let them know what happened, I found myself instantly in the throes of despair. "How could this happen? Why do I always end up ruining my life? I'm going to lose my job, I can't afford another car, I am worthless."  All this, and more, sounded through my head as I surveyed the scene. I went through the motions of giving my statement and information, calling family to get a ride home, getting my car towed, and taking care of my physical health. Not once did the thought "wow, this is really hard for me" cross my mind.

I actually struggled when others were trying to be kind. I tried to refuse the water and tissues offered me, I argued with those saying "it's okay, accidents happen," and I spent a lot of energy putting myself down and pointing out how horrible I am. There were moments when I realized that my efforts were not exactly effective; I knew I was standing at the crossroads of "old Holly" and "new Holly." Perhaps it's more like "miserable Holly" and "happy Holly." After the first two hours of trying to stay miserable it became clear that staying miserable was a decision that would lead me to self-destruction.

Staying miserable has been a forte of mine. I know how to let myself fall down that hole and get stuck for too long. Depression and darkness are comfortable when they're all you've known. I know that once I choose to be miserable I can take it to the extreme: self-injury, hospitalization and/or suicide attempt. However, I also know that I have a great life: a job I love, a wife I adore, friends I love and admire, and a budding business that is bound for great things.  I would give that all up if I  chose to stay unhappy.  In order to continue in the direction I want, I couldn't make the decision to stay miserable, I had to take control and choose to handle the problems I had incurred.  

Once you start to see the light, it starts to become harder to go back to those dark places. I'm at the point where I have known darkness longer than I have known light, so my comfort zone still lies with misery. However, I have found that remembering why I wanted to leave the darkness helps me to keep choosing the light. I did, eventually, gave up my "I ruin everything" outlook and started to piece together what I needed to do in order to make it through this event. Twenty-four hours later I'm not going to lie and say that the accident was "amazing" or "great," (I haven't completely lost my mind) but I do see that everything happens for a reason. I'm not quite sure what the reason is in this case, but keeping my faith in a higher purpose is what helps me to stay present and handle the situation.  This is just another opportunity to stay mindful in the face of adversity. It is also an opportunity to truly practice what I preach and show myself some compassion.

I sincerely hope that no one else has to go through such drastic measures to understand why self compassion is important. Even when things seem dismal, there is always the option to try a better outlook. It isn't going to change your life all once, but maybe choosing to see another point of view will help open up a world of small opportunities to choose a positive outlook. And maybe those small opportunities will lead to bigger and better outlooks in the future. It takes years to build a life of comfortable misery, but it only takes one moment of hope to help start bringing in the light.  

Learning to Create My Own Place of Belonging

Twenty two years ago the most significant thing in my life happened: I joined a dance school. A friend's mother was a dance teacher and she noticed how desperate I was to join a dance class and so she offered to transport me back and forth every week. She thought she was just reaching out to help a friend, since my mother didn't have the ability to get me to class every week. What she really did was help me to find the means of expression that would one day save my life. I am forever grateful to Jerry for taking me in as a dance daughter and helping me to become the dance-obsessed woman I am.

I was fortunate enough to go to a dance school based on love instead of greed. I was given all the right tools: technique, encouragement, and no judgement of size, shape, or ability. Dance came naturally to me and my dance teachers encouraged me to always try new things. It wasn't long before I was choreographing dances with my friend, Nicole, and helping during the recital weekends. I truly loved dance. 

Unfortunately, by age 16 I also truly loved the idea of committing suicide. I was depressed, self injuring, dealing with body issues, and stuck in a mental health system that preferred labels to actual help. The only thing that kept me going was dance. My goal every time I was inpatient was to get out so I could return to dance class. It was the only place I felt okay enough to want to live, even if only for that hour or so. 

I don't know how aware my dance teachers at the time, Jen and Susan, were of my depression, but I do know they made me feel as if depression wasn't the only part of me. No one pointed out my long sleeves when it was hot, nor did they ask me "how are you" every five minutes. Instead, I was commended on remembering dance steps every week. I was encouraged to try the harder version of the choreography and I was invited to help out the studio with different events. I felt like I belonged.

This feeling of belonging was lost after graduating high school and moving away. All the studios I tried weren't the home-based love-for-dance studio I had known. My larger size and boldness were not met with the kindness and acceptance I once knew and this made me feel wrong. Suddenly, I felt as if my love for dance wasn't enough to keep me dancing. I was frustrated, knowing in my heart that my dance practice was wonderful and that dancing for fun was perfectly okay, but being told by others that the only type of dance practice is a professional one. My practice fell by the wayside and my life lost some of it's spark.

A year ago I found myself saved again by dance. I made friends with a woman who decided to flip off the "professional" studios and made dance her journey. Jamie introduced me to Dancing Mindfulness and re-introduced me to myself. After finding the Dancing Mindfulness practice I felt I had come home again. Here was a type of dance that WANTED people like me! My size, shape, experience didn't matter. The only thing I needed was my love for dance and my need to tell my story.  

For the first time ever I did not give up when I found out there were no classes in my area. Instead I'm taking this into my own hands and bringing Dancing Mindfulness to NJ and sharing it with people like me who just need a space to feel they belong. My friend Lexie, along with Jamie, encouraged me take the facilitator training in February and now I am blessed to have a Yoga and Wellness studio that hosts Dancing Mindfulness about once a week.  My business is just starting and my classes have been only about 1-2 people thus far, but I am doing what I love and loving what I do. My life has purpose!

It isn't about being perfect for the practice, it's about making the practice perfect for you. I encourage all those out there saying "I'd do (insert favorite activity here) if only I had more time, less stress, a better teacher..." to go out there and JUST DO IT! Determine to make it what you want and you will get exactly what you need!

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Resources

Want to learn about my amazing friend Jamie? You can find Dr. Jamie Marich's home here: Mindful Ohio

Want to hear more about the practice? Visit the site here: Dancing Mindfulness

In the NY/NJ area and want to try it out? You can find Dancing Mindfulness NJ's home here: Dancing Mindfulness NJ

Expressing Myself

I've been on hiatus for a while as I work hard on making it through the holiday season successfully.  Mind you, during this time I had to redefine "successfully" several times before realizing that staying safe and finding moments to enjoy are really my goals for the holidays (and everyday!). I managed pretty well and now that the end of January is near I'm starting to (finally) see how well I really am doing. A small set-back in the middle of the month didn't even tear me down. If anything, it helped to build up my resolve to keep working diligently on my recovery from depression, anxiety, trauma, and self harm.

This morning I had one of those AHA! moments that makes life seem pretty chipper. I received an email from Dr. Judith Beck about Therapy Interfering Beliefs. Some of it I have already heard, but this morning one part really stood out to me:

"If I get better, my life will get worse."

It would make sense that these clients would be reluctant to acknowledge that problems could be solved.

Clients who hold a belief in this fourth category may display a number of difficulties in therapy. They may fear, for example,  that others will raise their expectations of the client and that the client  will then be unable to fulfill those expectations. They may be concerned that getting better will lead to a deleterious change in relationships with important people in their lives, for example, that a loved one will be unwilling to continue to offer help and support.  They may face a real-life challenge, such as having to find a job or losing their disability payments. Or they may be anxious about "losing" their therapist.

I added the bolded text and the strike throughs to highlight what really spoke to me. I've acknowledged some of this in therapy and some of it I have hidden from both my therapist and myself. The fear of losing my therapist, for example, is something I have feared saying and acknowledging. Part of me knows this is "normal" (whatever that really is) and part of me fears that it means a too-close relationship with my therapist. If I fear losing her is the relationship really therapeutic? Have I (we) grayed the boundaries too much? Am I co-dependent on her? 

The truth is how could I not have complex relationship with her?! I've been in therapy with her for 10 years, she's seen me through so many changes and life accomplishments, and even helped me out long distance when I decided to move to Oregon so many years ago. Any therapist and client would experience a deeper relationship even after just a few years together. 

Am I co-dependent on her? The answer is: not any more. There was a point where I was afraid to make decisions without her blessing. That time has passed and my part of the relationship has matured. I'm now able to make mindful decisions about when calling/email/texting (yes, she's ridiculously available) is appropriate and when it's not. I've even written this into the safety contract I made months ago with my therapist (my choice, not hers). 

The truth is I need to stop being so hard on myself and stop being afraid of showing myself to my therapist. She has seen me in the worst, and best, times and still is there. So what if I'm still afraid of "loosing" her? If I don't bring up the fears I have about recovery, I can't continue to grow and recover further. I'm not even sure I like the word "recover" because of the black/white connotation behind (you're either "in crisis" or "recovered"), but that's a post for another day.

Letting Go of Labels

The past few months have been intense for me. I was interviewed for a book, started uncovering even more about myself in therapy, pushed myself to start leaving my "victim" self behind, and participated in my first retreat.  All of this I did with support, but ultimately it was done on my own.  Not something that I would have ever imagined doing just a few years ago.

The first major leap was coming up with my own safety contract, which I've talked about previously.  I took full responsibility for all my actions and began to repair the relationship with my therapist. The second major leap was not giving up on my action plan. I found a DBT program, found it wasn't for me, and then went on to find another DBT program. While this may seem just the natural course for many, for me it wasn't.  Often in the past I would take the first program not working out as a sign. This time I didn't really have a choice: I made a plan with my therapist to do DBT for a year and I knew backing out of that was not an option.

Third major leap? Not letting money stand in my way.  Found out that this new DBT program was a bit pricier than my insurance wanted to pay for, but instead of walking away or going into crisis, I was able to work out a price that was more affordable for my out of pocket fees and for my insurance company.  I think a lot of being able to work that out had to do with the experience of my first retreat.

I found out that a social media friend of mine, Jamie, was co-facilitating a mindfulness retreat in PA and I decided, "why the hell not?" Two seconds after making the decision that I would be going I started with the chorus of "I can't"s.  I can't afford it. I can't go alone. I can't take the time off of work. I can't drive 5 hours away for just a weekend.  The list went on. For the first time in my life I decided to put aside everyone else's needs and take care of my own.  I went on a tireless hunt at work for people to cover my shifts.  Finally, the I can't take time off of work was crossed off my "I can't" list.  Then I paid for the retreat.  Crossed off another "I can't." Then I started putting money aside for the trip. Then I decided to take a couple of extra days to camp by myself, thus pushing the I can't go alone to the extreme.

Just a week before the trip financial worry decided to rear it's ugly head. I stopped trying to be perfect and decided that maybe every bill didn't have to be paid on time.  I called up several of the companies I owe money to and made alternate arrangements. The next thing I knew I was on my way.  I thought that *that* was the hard part.  Turns out, it was the easy part.

The hard part was getting to the retreat and meeting my feelings face-on.  All the things I thought I was "taking a vacation" from were there to greet me: fear, victim mentality, trauma, emotions.  From the moment I walked into the lodge until the moment I got in my car to leave I met all of this head-on.  Retreat, after all, does not mean to retreat from the hard stuff, but to take a leave from daily life to tend to the hard stuff.  And hard stuff there was.

I made many great new friends and connections, but one was particularly important. The woman who bunked next to me turned out to be a twin of mine: many of the same interests, same sense of humor, same love for dance. We were the first ones to jump in during Dancing Mindfully exercises, and we were often the ones chuckling over "inappropriate" humor. The most important aspect of this connection?  I wasn't hiding in it. I didn't use it as a reason not to dig deeper nor did I use it as my reason to dig deeper. It just was. This is something I've never considered before: a relationship can just BE. It's doesn't have to force you to do something or to not do something.  Just Being is something major I brought back from this incredible experience.

So for the weekend I allowed myself the following: to feel sad, to cry, to not have to talk, to enjoy, to not push, and to let my spirit lead me. I took that with me from the retreat to my days camping and I enjoyed all that I got out of it. The major theme of my self vacation? Letting Go of Labels. I meditated, danced, prayed, talked, and envisioned myself Letting Go of all the labels I have chosen to define myself by.  They aren't definitions, they aren't ME. I don't have to have a word to summarize myself with. It's okay to associate with different groups and to have phrases that identify what characteristics your personality has, but they aren't the end-all-be-all of who I am.  It has taken me many years to realize this.  I'm not Holly Ann, the lesbian/wife/artist/therapist/client/victim/survivor/optimist.  I'm just simply, Holly Ann.

Learning to Love Myself: A Work in Progress

Self love is a complicated thing.  For me I thought it was not just "I love myself!" but "I love EVERY part of myself."  EVERY part... that's pretty hard.  Even in trying to love myself, I hold myself up to nearly unobtainable standards.

Just admitting to pride is hard for me.  There's this constant fear of "do I deserve to be proud?" and "am I good enough?"  Since age 8 I have been a dancer, taking classes in any form of dance I can get into.  It was obvious to those around me that not only did I learn dance very quickly, but I was good at explaining and teaching others.  Twenty years later and I STILL have a hard time admitting, yes I am good at dance.  I can look back at recitals I have done and spend hours focusing on all the little things that could have been better.  Instead of learning to take pride in my work, I learned that there is always room for improvement.  What a quaint little way to squash a child's self esteem.

As it stands, I am learning that it's okay to be proud of an accomplishment.  Ironically, Twitter has played a large part in teaching me this.  No longer do I blush when I see someone retweeting or commenting on a post I have put up.  I also no longer hesitate to tweet about my blog.  I spent a lot of time watching others' tweets and realizing that it's okay to self-promote, to a certain extent.  So now I confidently post my latest blog links, preparing myself for the worst (no one retweets), yet hoping for the best (a few retweets and comments).

Then there are the parts of me that I'm ashamed of.  Learning to be OK with these parts is a Mount Everest sized task.  I've started to work with it practically: revealing what I am horribly ashamed of to my therapist and seeing how she reacts.  There was shame even in the way I presented these things.  I emailed her because I was afraid I would chicken out if I waited until our session to bring them up.  The next session we started right off on my email. I shouldn't be surprised that she is less than concerned about most of my "shameful" acts, but I was.  I often wait for me to say something and have her respond with "that's not really my expertise, I would recommend you continuing with another therapist."  Ten years of waiting and you think I would get the hint.

 Part of me was angry that she didn't see just how horrible these things were.  Another part of me wanted to cry because she cared enough to tell me that I'm not a horrible person. The entire process was overwhelming and frustrating. And after a session of attempting to explain why I thought these acts were so shameful and trying to figure out why I came to believe this, she asks me to do something.  She wants me to rephrase one portion of the email in a more non-judgemental way.  She gives me the option to pick the portion, size, and how I will go about re-framing it. 

I, always the over-achiever, rewrote the whole email, emailed the rewrite to her, and am prepared to go over it tonight.  I realized something, though: I feel a little softer towards myself over some of the "horrible" things I have done.  I've stopped beating myself up over being 28 years old and not having everything worked out.  I've even realized that it was hard for me to admit to these things and doing that kind of work is really an accomplishment. 

So maybe self love isn't something that is going to happen overnight, but at least now I know it's possible to work towards it.  You don't have to love every little bit of yourself to love yourself, you just have to be willing to accept that you're a work in progress.

Becoming an Emotional Grown-Up

Emotions are a hard subject when you have spent your life learning to suppress them.  Then comes the big SMACK in the face when you learn that this is counter intuitive.  You can suppress emotions all you like, but they will find other ways to come out.  For years I turned my emotions into self harming actions because as a child  I learned that showing my emotions only brings hurt and pain.

Now I am slowly learning to let those emotions out.  Naming, feeling, showing... all parts of emotion education that I missed.  I find myself wanting to go back to my maladaptive ways.  I have even gone so far as to find NEW maladaptive ways to handle the on pouring of feelings that comes with opening yourself up to a significant other.  My wife has been very supportive in my recovery process.  So much so that it's become a problem.  So part one of taking responsibility for my own emotions was asking her to NOT support me if I engage in a self harming behavior.  I even outlined what that was, what to look out for, and how to not support me.  I asked her to not comfort me, bandage me, or help me recover after an episode of self harm (SH).  Also, I asked that she tell me when she's upset, disappointed, disgusted, etc with my SH.

This started during my outpatient program.  Having a program therapist who understood my need to extinguish, not just lessen, my SH behaviors helped.  I soon learned how to do a behavior chain and then found myself doing many- one for every time I engaged in any form of SH (including self injury, disordered eating, and therapy interfering behaviors).  This helped to stop the latent SH behaviors and to help me start learning to see the patterns building up to urges and behaviors.

A couple of weeks ago I started part two of claiming responsibility for my emotions: making a safety contract. In the fourteen years that I have done therapy I have only ONCE signed a safety contract and that was because that therapist gave me no option.  It was a cover-her-ass move.  It basically said that I had to try to contact her or any help line I could (not that she ever gave me the number) and that I would do everything in my power to not harm myself.  I did everything in my power to never mention self harm to her again.

This time I made my own safety contract.  I held myself to the fact that I would not engage in self harm, disordered eating, and therapy interfering behaviors.  If I unintentionally do engage I have to fill out a behavior chain.  If I intentionally engage in my target behaviors it is at the discretion of my therapist whether or not I continue in therapy with her.  She added some bit about making an appropriate reference, but that's not the point.  The point is when I do these behaviors I now have actual consequences.  No more "are you okay?" and late night post-harming phone sessions.  Now if I engage in behaviors I just have to do a behavior chain and bring it in the next session.

Another thing I have done is changed the format for therapy phone calls.  Instead of being able to call and discuss crisis with my therapist she is now acting as a phone coach.  I have to use at least three skills before I can call, I have to tell her what skills I've used, and I have to be open to any suggestions given.  Five to ten minutes tops.  It's a more effective way of handling crisis and it makes me have to use my skills.

I am finally become an emotional adult.  No longer will I hide behind excuses.  There may be external causes to my behaviors, but ultimately it is my choice to give in or to use the skills I have worked so hard to learn.

Anyone interested in what skill sets I'm talking about, you can find more information here:
An Overview of DBT
Basic DBT Skills Outline
How Therapists Integrate DBT Skills

How To Be Angry With My Therapist

I have done a lot of thinking since my therapy session on Monday.  I still agree that what is happening with my therapist is good for me, but now I am realizing how angry I am.  Anger is a hard emotion for me.  I often don't let myself feel it.  The past four days I have not only been feeling it, but taking it to that unhealthy place where I ruminate about what I'm going to do with it.  I realize that going into my next session yelling and accusing is not going to be the most beneficial way to deal with it.  I also know that ignoring it and attempting to just "see what happens" is not healthy either.

So here I am caught in my dilemma: do I go in, guns blazing, asking my therapist the various series of questions I have or do I sit back and see what happens?  And if neither of those is truly effective, what's the middle ground?  Before I really dive into my options, let's look at what's bothering me:

Why is my therapist so caught up on my ER visits?

Last session was the third time since the beginning of February that my therapist has asked my opinion of why I was in the ER so often in the beginning of the year.  I get that maybe some of those visits weren't necessary, but I don't get why she is so hung-up on them.  I have trouble asking for help and when I do decide I need help it's normally because I have decided I'm in crisis.  So this is something I need to work on.  I realize now that a lot of the pain I was feeling was from flashbacks of being abused, but acknowledging those flashbacks is hard and being in the moment to realize that the pain is a muscle memory is even harder.  I still don't know what ER visits were for "real" problems and what were for psychosomatic issues.  I'm embarrassed by this self-perceived flaw of mine.  So I'm not thrilled to have it pointed out several times by my therapist.

Why am I suddenly hearing a lot of "what do you think? what do you need?"

Granted, my therapist has always been the one to push me when I try to delve into hard topics.  Never before have I experienced her using the "what do you think" clichè as a first line of defense.  Normally she'll have a quiet moment of thought then either ask me questions for clarification or explore the topic with me.  Suddenly I find myself bombarded with these questions.  I wonder if on some level she is just so exasperated that it's hard for her to hear the same questions from me over and over again.  I also wonder if she is struggling with the idea of continuing therapy with me.  I know it's hard to hear me say "I want to change" over and over again just to see me end up inpatient or attempting suicide or hurting myself over and over again. It's been almost ten years of this off and on and I'm tired of it, so I can't even imagine how she feels. However, I do feel I have the right to be taken seriously if she has decided to keep me as a client.  It may be hard, it may be exhausting, but I am STILL her client and I STILL deserve to be treated as such.  I'm not the friend who keeps coming back with the same crisis, I'm a patient who is having a very hard time accepting what getting better means and who needs help facing the fact that I deserve to get better.

Why is it that I felt slightly attacked last session?

Perhaps it's my own interpretation.  More than likely it probably is.  But I still felt that during my last session my therapist was definitely frustrated with me and my crisis.  She was trying to make several points and attempting to distance herself from me (or so I feel), but in doing so I felt I was being punished and shamed for what I did.  I know it wasn't right. I know I definitely made several mistakes that must have had a severe impact on her, but she made the choice to keep working with me.

What this all boils down to is a series of things that I have to address with my therapist.  I need to do so in calm manner and express myself, but I can't disconnect the way I normally do when addressing problems with the working relationship we have.  It makes me uncomfortable to confront her, but I know that in order for me to keep making progress I have to do this.  I know my best bet is to be upfront with her as soon as the session starts.  Let her know what I feel about the last session and give her a chance to process with me what happened.  After all, she is human and has feelings too.  On the same note, she's my therapist and I deserve to have therapy cater to my needs.

It is very hard to even acknowledge this anger.  I fret that I feel slighted just because I'm embarrassed.  I fear that I took everything in the wrong manner.  I seriously am afraid I'm making a mountain out of a mole hill.  In the face of all of this, I realize that these might be true but I'm still angry.  And there's the dialectic.  I have every right to feel angry, but I have to choose to be effective with it and not destructive.  It seems the time has come for me to acknowledge, feel, and deal with anger rather than pushing it down like I normally would. This is the first test in bringing my true self into the therapy room: allowing my anger to be there and address it rather than deflecting with something positive that has happened.

Seems that my life is no longer made of baby steps, but long adult strides that must continue at an even pace.

Learning to Forgive Myself

 First time going back to my private therapist after finally finishing my outpatient program.  It took four months, five re-starts, three hospitalizations, and a lot of self-learning to get to where I am. No amount of prepping could have had me ready for tonight, though.  Re-starting therapy can be a wonderful thing, especially after an intensive program like the one I was in. Sometimes it can be like ripping a band aid off a hairy spot on your leg- quick, painful, and leaves a lingering red spot after.

Certainly, things have to change for both my therapist and I.  Nothing can ever be the same after a client walks into a therapy room after having OD'd on meds.  To make matters worse, there is the electronic suicide note I sent out to her.  We discussed some of this during the two week lapse I had in program, but mostly those two sessions were to distinguish that I still wanted to get better and that it was unacceptable to do what I had done. Tonight was different.  She came in prepared and ready to lay down the law. Our dynamic has been forever changed.

No longer will I be allowed to come in with my thinly veiled self and attempt to joke around and deflect.  Suddenly I find myself re-starting completely with my therapist- back to day one- assessing my goals and having boundary lines finely drawn.  This is the consequence of what I have done.  I am not yet sure if I like it, but I know that it had to be done.  I know that therapy couldn't go on forever the way it was.  In January I had started to try to break through my barriers.  I was looking at the way I presented myself in session and what I had been leaving out and not talking about and I was preparing to change.  I didn't know how to.  I got scared, I got hopeless, and I attempted to take myself out of the equation.

Problems never just go away.

I spent a lot of tonight crying over the loss and the fear.  And then I let myself let someone else in.  I told my wife how I felt.  I cried, I yelled, I let myself feel.  And then I understood: sometimes dynamics must shift in order for major change to happen.  It's not just about me and what I need; it's also about others.  However, those others can handle their parts on their own.  I have to take responsibility for myself, my actions, and the consequences. It may seem unfair, but it's not about being fair. It's also no longer about what I want, it's about what I need.  And right now this is what I need.

I may not be responsible for being here, but I am responsible for getting myself out.

I know that I am responsible for some of it- the suicide attempt, the note, the acting-out.  However, some of it was beyond me- the trauma, the façade I had to make to survive, and the maladaptive coping mechanisms I have come to rely on.  Now their time is done and it is time to embrace who I have become in the face of all that.  It is time to take responsibility for all that has happened and to make my life my own.

I started out with the title, "How I Turned My Therapist into a Bitch."  I realize now that I didn't turn her into anything.  Nor was she really a bitch.  I was just embarrassed at all that I had done and shocked to find that I will no longer be enabled. My reaction to tonight's session had nothing to do with my therapist and everything to do with learning to forgive myself.  So tonight I start with accepting the fact that my therapist still wants to work with me.  No need to look for the "why"s and "what if"s.  I'm just going to practice some radical acceptance and be thankful that I have the support. I'm taking one moment at a time and trying to live my life mindfully.

Thoughts After a Suicide Attempt

Talking so frankly does not come easy to me.  I often reveal bits and pieces of who I am and what I have gone through, but for the next few moments I will share what it is like to come back from a suicide attempt.  For those of you thinking about it, this is a warning and a plea for you to seek help instead of throwing your life away.  For those of you dealing with someone who attempted, or is at risk for attempting, suicide this is a  suggestion on how to handle your own feelings.

The beginning of February marked two months that I had been out of work.  Out of work, depressed, in physical pain.... so many compounding issues that I still don't know where one begins and another ends.  It started out just wanting the pain to go away.  A few Tylenol  then a few more.  Then some other pain relievers.  I became desperate to be out of the hell I felt I was in.  Soon I found myself taking more meds than necessary and well on my way to the pain being extinguished. Forever.

My wife, being the helpful woman she is, helped me get to my therapy appointment, where I admitted, in a drugged up stupor, to taking too many pain meds.  My therapist called in my wife and I was taken to the hospital.  Several things happened in the next few hours: I managed to fake the ER staff into thinking I was having just side pain, I managed to write an auto-send suicide note via email to my therapist, I asked to be taken to a local Acute Mental Health Services facility. From there I would go back to an ER for medical clearance, go inpatient for two weeks, start an outpatient program, go back inpatient, and generally live in chaos for a month.  

Somehow, through all the chaos, I managed to get a second interview for a residential counselor position at a program for teenage girls with mental health problems.  I began to see through all the fog and once again had to piece my life back together.  I was offered the residential counselor position and suddenly I found myself on the other side of the badge.  The side where I was the one wearing the badge.  Still, I was dealing with all that had happened: I was sad at what I had done and scared at what could have been.  Most of all, I felt guilty over hurting those who cared.  The one person I hadn't planned on hurting was my therapist.  I mean, she's a therapist, right? Wrong.

Here's my disclaimer for those from the old school  patient-therapist relationship camp:  My therapist and I have known each other for ten years.  She has coached me through a move cross-country, a near-death suicide attempt, several hospitalizations, and my coming-of-age realization that I am not too fucked up to be a therapist myself.  She has served as my mentor and guide, my very own Shaman of sorts.  So if a new-agey therapeutic relationship offends you, you may wish to stop reading here.  If you are curious about how your feelings can help the ones you love, continue on.

So I go back to private therapy during my orientation, as I cannot attend the outpatient program I was doing and my job orientation at the same time.  I go back hoping to blow over the events of past and then run screaming.  As per normal, my therapist chooses the direct approach in discussing what happened.  She received the suicide note email and while it was well written, she was devastated to receive it.  I heard her explain how horrible it would have been to actually receive that after I had died and how even more devastating it would have been.  My heart broke.  Never did I think I would have that much impact on my therapist.  I knew I was naive to think everyone was better without me, but until I saw the pain in the face of my therapist, I didn't understand just how severe my actions were.  

We talked and I was honest about the things I've learned about myself in the past two months.  I owned up to wanting someone to save me and wanting an easy way out.  I still don't know how to truly own up to the hurt I caused her and the others who care for me.  Hearing my therapist tell me she cares about me put my own life into harsh perspective: I take my life for granted thinking I don't deserve the help I get.  Meanwhile, that is unfair to those giving the help.  I needed to hear some point-blank reality from her in order to really understand just how much I have to live for and how much I'm loved.

So for those of you thinking of suicide: STOP thinking and start calling. Call the Lifeline Number (1-800-273-TALK (8255)), call your therapist, call a friend.  Get yourself to a local ER, mental health services, or other place where you can get help or be brought to help. YOU HAVE TOO MUCH TO LIVE FOR!!!

For those of you trying to help: be honest.  Be transparent and tell your loved one how you feel.  Don't be accusing ("you would make me want to die if you died"), instead be honest ("I would be horribly devastated if you killed yourself"). Honesty is the best way to approach any situation and this is no different.  If you're scared, tell them.  If you're sad, tell them.  We don't know how you feel  until you say it. Sometimes words mean so much more than you can ever realize.

How Important is the Therapeutic Environment?

Therapy has come a long way from it's couch-lying Freudian beginnings. Therapists and clients have evolved in their relationships; now therapists (in some communities) are praised for their ability to properly self-disclose rather than being shunned for not maintaining an air of mystery. Personally, it has taken some time for me to evolve my thinking on patient-client interactions in regard to emails, phone calls, and text messages.  In no way does this mean I'm going to make homemade pasta, buy good wine, and show up at my therapist's home à la Kay Scarpetta, but I have learned to use electronic communications to my benefit. Though I'm learning to change with the times, I do believe some aspects of a patient-client relationship should not change, the most important of all being the therapeutic environment.

My therapist's office has been my safe space for over nine years now.  I've learned to cry there, to laugh, to love, to enjoy, and to let go.  I've always enjoyed the waiting room as much as (if not more than) the actual therapy room. Soft instrumental melodies waft from a  very 90's CD player, coffee and hot tea are readily available, and all of the staff are friendly and great to chat with.  I've shared hair-dying tips, crocheting secrets, and favorite cellphone games with various therapists and staffers who have passed by while I was waiting for my appointment. The environment is so inviting that I've made it a ritual to arrive at least ten minutes early to prep for my therapy session.

While I try not to be ultra-critical, I have been known to have a few opinions. So it should be no surprise that when I entered my therapist's waiting room and for the first time heard music with lyrics, I had a few questions.  I let those rattle around my brain for a while, thinking it to be a  fluke of some sort.  After about a month of the same type of music greeting me, I decided it was a blessing I had one of the last appointments at this particular office and took it upon myself to change the radio over to CD. Actually, the first time hearing a triggering song (I believe it was the song "Jumper") was what made me brave enough to change the stereo's settings.  It wasn't a big offense in my mind, but it was a curious change.

I held my tongue up until the time I first heard Christmas music upon entering the door.  It wasn't yet Thanksgiving and the carols were already going.  The local radio station the stereo was tuned in to had taken it upon itself to be the first station around to sound the "joys" of the season.  Although I observe Christmas, I am not Christian and understand that not everyone celebrates Christmas.  It's also a rough time of the year for me, as it is many others, and I have to go through my own personal rituals before I can really enjoy the season.  Learning that the music choice had little to do with thoughtfulness, I found nothing wrong with continuing my tradition of hitting the "CD" button on the stereo.

I found that my therapy group wasn't the only one attempting to incorporate holidays into their decor. Friends I have made online from various parts of the globe were saying the same things I was about what had happened to our previously safe spaces.  A couple of friends said the decor went straight from the front door, through the waiting room, and into the therapist's office.  I joked that I was lucky that I only had depressing carols to contend with, but the next session proved me wrong; decorations had spurt up all over the office.  Thankfully, I never had to deal with a problematic therapy room, but the decorations definitely depressed me.

I worried about the clients that came only for holiday-related issues and those who may be triggered by holiday decor for whatever reason.  I began to wonder if the decorating would ever end, as the decorations continued to spread in a naive attempt at incorporating all religions.  It's just not possible- the minute you include one religion you are probably offending another religion.  And if you don't represent a religion correctly you've offended many without even meaning to.  My arrive-early ritual turned into a sprint-last-minute pattern.

I began to wonder what the "official" stance on all of this is.  I found out if you Google the words "therapy office" and "holiday decor" you get little to no results.  Some articles about the importance of neutrality and thoughtfulness needed in decorating an office and then some research studies on quality perceptions of therapists based on office decor. It seems that either this is a non-issue for most or an issue that the internet has yet to shed light on.  Much like online therapy, which went without internet articles for quite a while, holiday decor seems to be an issue too taboo to cover.

For me, it's not a deal-breaker, but it has caused some shock.  One of the few things I could count on was my therapist's office and waiting room being a neutral place where the expectations of the outside world couldn't hurt me.  While everyone walking down the street "expected" me to be happy and joyous during the winter holidays, I could count on having a place to seek refuge.  Now, I have to make my own place of refuge, which perhaps is forcing me to grow emotionally.  While that's great- I love making progress- I still don't want to have to deal with dangling hearts and love songs for Valentine's Day.  I may just have to take the month of February off.

Elections Hurt, Civil Rights Can Help

As we get closer and closer to Election Day, I see more and more people fighting over things that, in the end, are silly.  Unemployment rates, taxes, abortion laws... What most are over-looking is the fact that bills go through Congress to become law.  They do not have to be signed by the president to become a law.  Congress can override a presidential veto so long as 2/3 majority vote yes to the bill.  All of this is what keeps the president from being a dictator.  There are ways in which the president can influence and lobby for a bill, but ultimately Congress decides.  Many of the things brought up in the debates will be forgotten as soon as the election is over.  Some will come up once or twice, fail, and then be forgotten.  So why focus on the president, when our Congress members hold the power?

Many people do not even know what congressional district they belong to.  This is the first step in changing laws- find out what district you're in!  Then find out who is the current Congress person for that district.  Familiarize yourself with what they've done, what they want to do, and who else is running for Congress.  Make an educated vote, not one based on the party you affiliate with.  Sometimes Republicans can be very liberal and sometimes Democrats can be very conservative.  Do the same for your House representative  Once you've made an informed decision, find out how to contact both so that you can help them focus on the issues important to you.

Congress power aside, it saddens me to see how after the election others tend to forget what they were so incensed about prior to the election.  If you want to change how this country is run, you can't just complain during an election then give up.  One thing I do know: even if my candidate doesn't win I will continue to lobby for the causes I believe in.  I refuse to give up hope on the issues that are important to me.  Yes, I do fear all the good work being done to bring an end to the Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA), but that doesn't mean I will give up if Romney is elected.  I'll work harder to fight for my civil rights.

So as the countdown to the election winds down, remember that YES, this election is important, but NO it's not the end of the world.