Intellect versus emotions

Feb 252012

One of the reasons I think Dr Puck and I are a good fit is that we are very different.
Dr Puck’s understanding of things comes from her emotions, mine comes from intellect.

A concrete example of this is how we tackled the “cancellation crisis“.
Although my first reaction was emotional (anger), my way to process it was to reason it through.
I tried to understand Dr Puck’s behaviour first: why she had cancelled at the last minute, why did she forget my circumstances of possible crisis, why did she not offer a reschedule. Once I understood her motives, regardless if she had excuses or not, it was easier for me to accept her behaviour.
I also tried to clarify my needs such as for example the need for predictability, so I could make plans to avoid the situation in future (in this case it meant giving Dr Puck an alternative number she could contact if I am away, even though that wasn’t the cause of the current cancellation).
Analysing and being proactive made me feel once again in control.
Also I rationalised that I can take last minute cancellations if it means that Dr Puck is trying to make the session at any cost and only once she really can’t make it she cancels.

But when I explained all of this to Dr Puck she was confused and struggled to follow me.
While I had moved on in a rush, she was still very much in touch with the anger and disappointment I had expressed initially.
It is easy for her to hang onto emotions and work with them, she is not made uncomfortable by them, ever.
That in turns opens the door for me enter that unchartered territory: if she is not uncomfortable in that place, then maybe I can try and stay and explore with her.
In this particular instance I took a step back, breathed, and realised that – actually – I hadn’t really forgiven her for the cancellation yet.
I hadn’t really moved on at all, I had just rushed away from confrontation, losing touch with my own emotions altogether.

And that is definitely one of my challenges in therapy: stay with the bloody emotions.

© 2012 The Separate Room by Lo. All rights reserved.

Call someone by name... or not?

Feb 252012

Calling someone by name mid-sentence or mid-conversation creates an artificial sense of intimacy, and specifically one that is imposed by the caller. It is so effective it is even used as a tactic in sales.
Its use in therapy makes me cringe. Too close, too personal.

Therapist A used to call my name from time to time, in the sessions, I suppose she did it to create a connection:

- I want to ask you something, Lo.

It was an electrifying feeling: suddenly, unexpectedly, she was summoning me, she was pulling me closer.
But every time she called me Lo I also felt a jolt of fear. I wanted to hold onto my chair and brace myself, whatever was coming next was definitely going to feel too close for comfort, too intrusive.

I also felt like I was being put in a submissive position and I was often tempted to answer back:
- Lo, I want to tell you something.
- Yes, A. I am all ears.
I wanted to put us on an even plane, not to allow Therapist A to assert her power over me.

Watching Gabriel Byrne playing the therapist Paul Weston in the series In Treatment I was struck how often he calls his patients’ names, and how even more often his patients call his:
- You see, Paul… because you know, Paul… Paul I don’t agree… what are you saying, Paul?… hold on a moment Paul.
It is totally unnecessary, he clearly knows they are addressing him, they just use it for effect. It makes me cringe.

Dr Puck is not one of those therapists who slip their patient’s name in every second sentence, quite the opposite.
In fact the only time I ever hear her say my name is when I arrive and when I leave.
- Hi, Lo – she mutters as I get in.
- Goodbye, Lo, see you on Monday then – with clearer enunciation as I leave the room.
For my side, the few times I happen to say her name when I greet her it almost feels like trespassing.
And even when she herself says her own name I always stiffen up.

And I know most of us have similar issues around closeness with our therapist, but I wonder if I am the only one feeling so strongly about name calling?

© 2012 The Separate Room by Lo. All rights reserved.

I need warning

Feb 062012

Segue from Cancelled session. She tells me that somehow, inexplicably, she assumed things would turn out to be ok. The idea that my relative could die didn’t stick in Dr Puck’s mind, what stuck was a fantasy of a miraculous recovery. That’s why when she called to cancel a few … Read more

Cancelled session

Feb 032012

This week she cancelled on me. Not that it hasn’t happened before. In the past two years she must have cancelled the session at least three or four times, always at the very last minute, and generally because she fell sick. Or so she said, with a nasal voice. When … Read more

A nickname for my therapist

Jan 032012

I have been calling her “my therapist” but all the while it felt anonymous and abstract, too distant, so not like her. No, she is a very real individual, and I miss being able to call her by her real nickname. Yes, because in real life she had a nickname … Read more

A vacation from myself

Dec 312011
A vacation from myself

I’ve taken a vacation from myself. The grey, the gloomy crows, the tangled winter branches have been eclipsed by light, by open skies, by pastel hues and cheesy blooms. I’ve taken a vacation from myself. A soft oblivion mows the black weeds of despair and yet I feel this new … Read more

Sad and depressed, depressed and sad

Nov 042011

Are you sad, are you depressed? Are you sad and depressed? Here is a little questionnaire for you to find out more. This is not a test, there is no rating, there are no results or explanations at the end. Just some questions, which may help you take a look … Read more

Hey, you!

Oct 312011

After work I took a detour via the library. It’s a very small local library with a rather mismatched and outdated collection of books, magazines and dvds. They even still keep some videos in vhs format. It’s a place for lonely pensioners on a small budget to get their read, … Read more

Comfort objects

Oct 302011

As babies we learn to use a soft toy or a blanket to symbolise our soft and warm mother and to help us self-soothe in her absence. As adults we continue making use of comfort objects, often even without realising it. Isn’t it a very peculiar way to mother ourselves … Read more

Ending the session

Oct 252011

The Boy has been scarce lately, no sighting as I get to therapy, no trace of him when I leave. I miss giving him a good chin scratch before getting into the therapy room, I miss him jumping on the windowsill and staring at us, hoping to be let in. … Read more

Lying on the Couch

Oct 232011
Lying on the Couch

This book belongs to a genre I have started to explore after I entered my own therapy: books that examine what happens in the therapy room, between the therapist and the patient. Some are written by patients and others – such as this one – by therapists. Therapists may present … Read more

There is nothing to understand

Oct 222011

Out of my office window a narrow angle view of a tall whitewashed wall with spires of razor wire. Ivy winding on the barbs where a starling hatched its eggs my typing accompanied by the hungry strident cries. At noon the wall shines sunlight in my printer’s gills blackened pages … Read more

Expressing emotions

Oct 182011

My mother has often told me that in her family the expression of emotions was frowned upon. When she was a child nobody at home or in her extended family ever raised their voice, nobody ever cried in front of other family members, or showed any strong feeling or emotion. … Read more

The lonely child

Oct 032011
The lonely child

Today was a 10 tissues session. They all ended up in my handbag, since my therapist doesn’t have a bin, so I was able to line them up on my armchair at home and document them. They are all sopping wet, mainly from snot. In fact the tears rolled down … Read more

Latching

Sep 042011

I latched all right. In fact from the very first moment I was brought to her I latched beautifully – a lively baby who knows, who just knows even if she has never seen one before that this is a breast, a good breast. And my appetite didn’t scare her … Read more

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