Processing: Part 2

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Processing Part 2

The Art Therapist:

So, like I said yesterday, I don’t remember much about that appointment.  Here’s what I remember:

  • Shortly after I got there, the AT said he had expected me to walk in dissociated and was remarking that I was not, or I wasn’t as dissociated as he had anticipated…I don’t remember the specifics.
  • He looked at my paintings from Wednesday and then put them up in a circle for an exercise about trauma states. I really didn’t even want to look at them, but they were in my line of sight, so I spent time staring at the floor or to the left or right of the paintings.
  • I thanked him for talking to me on Wednesday
  • He tried again to get me to hear that I matter.
  • He looked at one of the paintings (the one with the pieces) and talked about the fragments/broken pieces…I have no idea what he said, but I do remember thinking about the Me figure in my Inside/Outside Box (a very early Art Therapy project)
  • He gave me an art directive about the Fragmented Me pieces and planting them and how would I nurture them and get them to grow?

And that directive is where it all really fell apart.  I moved to the art table and got a piece of paper and I felt like I was moving through sludge.  I pulled colored pencils out of the pencil jar and put them over the paper and I started to draw me, torn into pieces.  Only, I felt soooo slow in my drawing.  I don’t know if I was being slow, but I felt like I was moving in slow motion, or like I was dragging the pencils through playdough.  And then he didn’t have a red colored pencil, I so got out the watercolors…And I finished the body pieces and then I went to paint the dirt…For which I chose the black watercolor and I painted all around the body pieces in dark black.  I kept dipping the brush in the paint to make the black as black as possible.  And then I added another round of black to the edge and I realized that the picture wasn’t of something planted but of something dead being buried.  And somewhere in there, I started to feel like I was watching myself painting, rather than me doing the painting. And I kept adding black around the edge so that the blackness around the body pieces was spreading away from them…I think I would have kept going until the whole page was black.

But…the AT said something to me.  I have no idea what he said, but it pulled me back into myself and I realized what I was doing and I stopped painting.  The AT asked me what had happened and I didn’t have an answer for him.  I was still trying to slide back into me.  I don’t know if I answered him or shrugged or what.  Then he said something else…again, I have no idea what, except that he was worried that he had offended me or something and that’s why I stopped painting.  No…I stopped painting because I had come back into awareness and I didn’t need to fill the paper with black.

And then he tried to get me to talk about the drawing.  I remember telling him, “She’s dead.” And talking about the picture in the third person…but I don’t remember what I was saying to him.  Then at some point he pointed out that the picture was of me.  I think I said, “No” or shook my head….Ugh…I just don’t remember…But I didn’t want to own the person in the picture.

The last thing I remember talking about was that it was my fault.   That there must have been something wrong with me and it was my fault I was sexually abused.  The AT told me it was the abuser’s fault not mine, but I couldn’t hear that, so I said no…or shook my head or something.

And then, it was the end of the session and the AT was telling me that I could contact him if I needed him before my Monday appointment.  And I joked that I couldn’t do that twice in a week because it broke my rule.  And he said something about my rule breaking his rule of being available….Again, I am fuzzy on this and what exactly he said…Except that I remember feeling kind of jolted by the idea that my rule broke his rule…Not in a bad way, just like I had never thought of that before.

And then I was putting on my coat and leaving.

And the rest of the day was me being a total dissociated mess.

At this point…I am pretty much calmed down and present in my body again.  I think I am probably back to my baseline.

And life goes on.

 

One thought on “Processing: Part 2

  1. I hit the like botton. Not because I like what you are going through, I don’t like that. Your blog seems like progress to me. I am not a psychologist, just another broken person out there, so I don’t know if there is any “truth” in my observation. It is just my opinion.
    The other thing it reminded me of something I saw on FB the other day. A parent was sharing that her child was upset about something it had seen on the news. She was thinking about offering an explanation to her child but was wondering if it would be believable. Somebody put in a comment saying that her child would believe anything she would tell him, that children believe anything.

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