Art Therapy: Just Another Way to Fail

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The appointment my parents had last night was cancelled…so thankfully, I didn’t have to go…more on that another day.

Art Therapy: Just Another Way to Fail

I think the Art Therapist pushed me too far yesterday and now I am mad.  I don’t know exactly who I am mad at…Him? Me?  But I am peeved and I am done talking about my stupid “innocent child” self in therapy.  I don’t want anything more to do with it. I. AM. DONE.  He’d better come up with a new approach, because this one is not going to work.  I am not having any of it.

He asked to see my mandala book and then opened it to this page.

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Then he asked me to do some art about it.  Before I started, I asked him why that page…Why did he choose that particular picture?  And he said that it didn’t have any red Xes over the girl. (Me) I looked at it and realized that it doesn’t have any black or red in it…It is actually pretty atypical of what I draw.  So, he wanted me to draw based on the picture or the feeling of the picture…the why-it-isn’t-black-and-red-and-crossed-out feeling.

So, I settled in drawing a little girl holding balloons and a small bouquet and standing with some huge flowers in bloom on either side of her with a bright yellow sun in the sky.  And I was happy as I drew it and was sort of chatting at the AT…it felt pretty relaxed.  And my guard was down.  So, I finished the picture and slid it towards him and he looked at it and propped it up so we could both see it.  And then he wanted me to tell him about it.  Actually, he wanted me to tell him a story about the picture.

A story? Really?  Ummm…nope.  Not gonna happen.  There’s no reason to tell a story to go with the picture.  So, he asked what feeling the picture captured.  I gave two words, I forget what the first one was, but the second was content.  And then he wanted to sort of go with that concept.  Only, I wasn’t having any of it.

Doesn’t he get that there was no happy and content? And that it is totally pointless to talk about it?  All it does is reinforce that everything about me is ruined and sucks.  I hate that stupid picture.  I hope he loses it and I don’t have to look at it again.  I shouldn’t even have drawn it in the first place…Stupid, stupid, stupid.  Everything in that picture represents everything I never had and I hate it.

The picture stirs up all those stupid feelings of hurt and disappointment and betrayal.  And I am not going there.  There is no point to digging all that up.  I already know that my childhood sucked…I don’t need to be reminded and I certainly don’t need to feel about it.  I am done with that stupid child-self. She’s nothing but a liability.

And I am done letting my guard down. And I am done being open and trustful. And I am done with feelings.  Done. Done. DONE.

And you know what else? It is my fault!  The Art Therapist thought maybe we would have a grounding kind of day, but I wanted a work day.  Well…I guess I got it and so now I have to figure out how to deal with it.  It seems that I have a knack for bringing bad things to myself…. because I am bad….bad begets bad.  I don’t know why I let him start to convince me otherwise.  I should not have listened. And I know better…that’s the thing that kills me.  I know that there is something wrong with me…And that there always has been something wrong with me.  Why did I let him start to sway me to believe otherwise?  Because I liked what he was saying?  Ugh.  I am disgusted with myself….sooo stupid!  And now everything about therapy is wrong.  It is all ruined too, just like me and because of me.  That’s one of my specialties….I am a ruiner.

So, I guess I am mad at us both.  I am mad that the Art Therapist made me start to feel better about myself and I am mad at myself for being stupid enough to believe it.

5 thoughts on “Art Therapy: Just Another Way to Fail

  1. “And you know what else? It is my fault! . It seems that I have a knack for bringing bad things to myself…. because I am bad….bad begets bad. I know that there is something wrong with me…And that there always has been something wrong with me. . I am disgusted with myself….sooo stupid! ….I am a ruiner.”
    Where did these voices come from? Whose are they? They have become yours, but where did they originate. Even if not said out loud, someone’s else’s treatment, and/or body language said these things to you…
    The top artwork, of ripping her up and putting her back together is your best piece yet, and tells the story so powerfully, so profoundly and is so wrenchingly sad. So much depth, your soul on paper…? My mother once made one of those real eggs that are blown out and decorated. She put my senior picture in it. One day I took it in my hand and crushed it into countless shattered shards.

    • Thanks for your thoughtful questions. You always inspire me to think more…which I appreciate. I am sure you have read the next blog already…but I pulled your questions out and put them in my blog as I think they are so important to think about.

  2. Oh…my friend…I love your child-self. I want to gather that child-self into my arms and hug her and hold her and tell her over and over again how wonderful she is, and how grateful I am that she is there inside of you. I have a feeling AT wants her to feel safe, and be free from all the “badness” she has been hidden under. I had an experience where my therapist offered me an opportunity to bring my child-self to the “now” where I knew she would be safe. I admit, it felt very odd…but so very profound. I am no longer powerless…I will not ever let her be hurt again! I can allow her out of where she was hidden, and take care of her. You can do that too, I know you can.

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