Thankfully the titles I use on my blogposts are so esoteric that there is no chance anyone would ever search for them. I'm essentially un-searchable. This in turn, allows me to write with greater impunity.
A few weeks ago, my therapy session evolved into a discussion about loneliness and the body sensation of that alone-ness. We didnt have nearly enough time to delve into it, so we put it off for a few weeks. This past week we picked up right where we left off. (that seldom happens). So, let us begin with loneliness.
I described the loneliness as a cold child, bluish. Part of this somatic therapy is to describe the part of the body that associates with feelings or trauma. In this case, the blue child was felt in my thighs, in my quads. Like a sad tightness. Cold, and still.
As we explored the feeling I started to recognize that the loneliness feeling itself wasn't as scary as it had felt in the past. I could feel a brisk breeze moving through the feeling memory.
It was at that point the desire to control and change the feeling welled up. For the first time, I could see the red anger as a shape as well as a body part. The old-blood red bat shape filled my field of view, blocking the blue child completely from view. Immediately, I was swallowing back hot tears and feeling the shape echoing into my spine and my lower back. As we explored this red anger and control, I became aware that for as fierce as the feeling was, it was scarier than I expected. It was also adult. Old. The old that we are told we have to become. The grown-up that children are told we have to become in order to stop being the immature, child-like creatures we were. I knew the red-blood shape of control and anger like a mask of my own face. It fit. Wet, hot, stifling and blocking everything from view. I struggled to stay with this feeling. Everything about this made me want to run away.
Then, out of the upper field of my vision, there appeared a slender badger. Slowly pushing the red-blood shape down, the badger tried to let me know that I could push past this raw, angry, adult feeling. I could just go off with the badger and everything would be better. With guidance, I found myself reassuring the furry face of the badger that in fact, I was safe. I had help. I would be okay. I thanked him and reminded him that I saw him. I could join him another time. As I said this aloud, he curled up, just inside my field of view, and stuck his tongue out at me. I call him Distraction. Distraction needed to wait a little while.
I refocused my attention on the red-blood shape that kept pulsing against my vision. New distractions arose from the underside of my arms. Flapping up into frame, huge black ravens began pecking and tearing at the red bat shape. Burning and piercing through the leathery burgundy was confusing and scary. I felt more ravens coming from around my shoulders. Here to interrupt and stop this blood-red feeling that enveloped my vision.
Again, I had to say aloud that I was safe. That I saw these beautiful black ravens for the caring wings that could carry me far away. I told them, gently, that I would be fine. That I saw them and that I recognized their effort to care for me. They burned like small tears in old movie film strips.
I was sweating profusely at this point, struggling hard to maintain my focus on this bat-winged shape that remained positioned securely in front of my eyes. As I explored the feeling, the part that kept screaming for attention was my lower back. The seat of my pain and struggle for so much of my adult life. Two back surgeries and endless days and nights of pain, suffering and frustration. I needed a drink.
A quick gulp of cold water. Not really an interruption... just a swallow. The coolness changed my focus immediately. I looked back up at the screen and there was the most picturesque mountain lake, complete with blue cloudless skies and a stunning white float plane, parked near shore. Nothing could take away this stagnant heat, this stifling putrescence... like getting on the float plane and lifting away on cool mountain breezes. Another distraction. Another dissociation. One step and I was away. Far away.
I held the vision in my mind for a moment, reassuring myself that the float plane would be there when I needed it. That the mountain breeze would still be blowing when I was finished working on the task of the day. That the glacial lake would still be cool and refreshing when I was ready to step into it.
With that, I came back to the blood-red bat shape and found it leathery, cordovan red, slowly losing its vibrancy and threat. Each time I refocused on the shape I saw it smaller, less important. The tears welling up in my eyes burned a little less. They cooled quickly on my cheeks.
As I recognized the blood-red bat-shape as adult control, as the desire to force and shape... and saw how that feeling was expected of me, it changed. I could see the blue cold child with different compassionate eyes. It was also the end of the session. Pulling me out of the quasi-hypnotic state, I felt my arms had joined to my legs... struts to hold me upright. Everything from my fingertips to my shoulders was rock hard, locked into place.
End of session, time to come back into the room. Suddenly there was color and daylight all around me. I know it is still there waiting for my next session. I know that the badger is still sticking his tongue out and is ready to distract me from more pain. The ravens await inside my arms, in case I need to be lifted away. And the blue cold child waits too.
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