Building Self-Confidence 109

Today at therapy, I shared the pictures from my Inside Eliza story. But before that, I shared some of Big Events and then read my letter.

It was difficult. I resisted the emotions for a portion of it. Not all of it, though, and I struggled on saying the last bit. But I didn't get overwhelmed. If anything, I was restrained. But I suppose 'holding back' is better than being overwhelmed or dissociating. My Tx asked me now and then to 'stay with the feeling' but I am never really sure what that means. As I practice more and more exploring how I feel and letting myself feel it, it's becoming easier to communicate while I'm feeling something.

It's even becoming possible to communicate when I'm feeling something.

"We're looking at 5-7 sessions left."

I turned away and stared at the pictures we laid out on the floor. This wasn't a surprise. I brought up the issue of 'ending' at our last session, two weeks ago. She mentioned the end of summer. I panicked then. Somehow 5 seems worse.

But over the last two weeks I've consolidated my learnings into a strategy, which I communicated to my Tx today through pictures. I wanted to show her that I understood what an ending meant, that I was grateful for all the time we spent together, because together we've changed me, and that she will be leaving me in good hands... my hands.

I hesitated, full of thoughts and feelings. "That made me sad."

She nodded.

"But it's also why I did this." I gestured to all of my pictures on the floor. "To have a plan, for when I'm not here anymore." I looked her in the eyes as she affirmed my plan (oh the newfound confidence). But I wasn't listening. Something bubbled inside. The world became fuzzy, which is a poetic way of saying my eyes became glassy with tears. I blinked as I interrupted her.

"It is incredibly complex, this self-management programme, but I'm confident with most of it. I.." I faltered. She waited patiently. The waves of emotions were churning inside.

"I'm afraid I'll not have the one thing that got me this far. The one thing that matters." The emotion had reached the tip of my tongue and held my breath hostage. "The..."

She was nodding emphatically. "Just say it. Say the word."

I was being blinded by my own vulnerability. But I held on to my desire to share that I understood. I rode that wave until the words were out of my mouth and my hands gestured to her: "The connection."

She sat back. Did she smile? Was she still nodding? I am sorry; I didn't notice. I don't remember.

What I do remember is how I felt. Hopeful. Yearning. Sad. Fragile. Little. Real.



Read on the NHS Choices blog.