Containment, Part 2

Today's therapy was full of emotion. Chock FULL of emotion. Well, there was still quite a bit of intellectualising, but I am my own barometer of emotional authenticity. I know how present I was.

Very!

I updated my Inside Eliza story to add two new characters and alter the ending. I had shared the story with my therapist a few sessions ago, acknowledging that the last few episodes were just a guess as I hadn't reached that point yet. True to form, I had progressed in a different and unexpected way, so I updated my slides to reflect that change. I'll post the updated story here soon.

My therapist was very interested to see the updates, especially the inclusion of her as an outside worker and the new part of the 'Nurturing Parent.' I explained to her that it was because of our relationship that I was able to see this part of me take shape. She smiled and said, "Thank you." But I didn't quite hear her at first, being too busy saying "Thank you" myself. So she repeated herself. And I looked her in the eye and smiled.

We talked about my week. We talked about how I felt at the beginning of therapy. We talked about how I feel about the ending of therapy. We talked about how I plan to get to the end of my Inside Eliza story.

I am building my Nurturing Parent up through caring for the authentic selves of others, but being mindful to learn that as I am compassionate to others, so may others be compassionate to me. In other words, I can trust others. I can give others the opportunity to earn my trust.

I am actively seeking out ways I can get my needs* met. *Needs primarily referring to my need for a loving, responsive parent. I see that desire, so overwhelming, inside me. There is a huge motivation to get that need met. Can my own biological parents provide that for me?

"I'm a different person now. I'm not that helpless child." I have more knowledge. Different resources. "I can say what I need. And if they aren't able to provide it, well..." I can take care of myself. I can try again elsewhere.

"I can cope."

And how does Eliza feel about that?

I took a deep breath and turned my concentration towards the stirring inside. "Grief." I pulled at strands. "Sad." But mostly... "Relieved. Secure." I paused and gestured my hands in the shape of a bowl close to my chest. "Like the container is inside me. Instead of way out there." My hand swept towards the window, as I looked pensively within. We sat for a moment.

"I'm proud of you." She looked at me intently. "Do you know why?"

I stifled a chuckle in my usual way, my lips curving. "Because I'm meeting the goals we set at the beginning of therapy." She nodded. "Because there was no guarantee we'd get to this point." She kept nodding. The smile became a playful grin. "Because it involves a lot of hard work on behalf of the client."

She laughed. "And what paragraph does that come from?"

I didn't reply, because I understood. She understood. I understood she understood. She understood I understood she understood. Me.

I felt like me.




Read on the NHS Choices Blog.