butterfly9

Yesterday and Today...

Posted on 11/04/09, 05:59 pm

I had a very difficult time in therapy yesterday. I had a nightmare that we had to work through. It was so troubling that I felt like vomiting later in the day (sorry about that). I can't really describe the sexual assault here, but it was horrific. One day, I will write that on paper.

Anyway, today was a crazy busy day with my advocacy people. I love these people. They are the best people to work with. It is like meeting the people here. Maybe, one day, I will share what we do. It has been a crazy ride.

I had therapy again today. I get to go two times a week.:) I told her how terrible that I felt yesterday. She said that we did some good work yesterday. I guess in an oxymoron-way that is probably true. However, today, I said that was the first thing that I could put together a nightmare, physical body memory and how I feel about sex, male body parts and other stuff. Since I don't I have complete memory, this is the most complete picture that I have had.

I had another dream that I shared. I just then sobbed. I think that I needed to sob. I have not done much of that. I am really wiped out and exhausted. I feel just a little better today. I know that on another day that I will feel bad again.

I am glad that it was not left with just yesterday.

• Reply #1 11/04/09  6:14pm
  
  scubagirl1
  Get some sleep, your exhausted poor thing....
• Reply #2 11/04/09  10:17pm
  
  EmpoweredOKC
  No need to apologize. Many people here know exactly what it's like to work through these memories, fragmented though they may be, and feel like vomiting, becoming exhausted and frightened of sleep itself. Some of the women here can encourage you from their points of view, but I'd like to offer you some insight from the point of view of one who used to sit on the therapist side of the process...
  
  There are certainly some therapists who, for some reason, have dampened their own sense of compassion out of a misguided belief that all matters of counseling must be stoic, detached, and dispassionate. Frankly, I've never heard any client anywhere celebrate much success with that style anyway, and when someone is struggling with trauma it comes off as rudely disinterested on the part of the therapist. So screw that.
  
  The therapist who actually cares for you--and yes, that should be a guiding sentiment in therapy--not only knows that this is painful to you, but empathizes with it. We cannot feel it FOR you, but we are connected to the struggle. We aren't faking it; when I was working with survivors in counseling, it required a daily willingness to walk in that room, and remain calm while accepting the collective experience of pain. It's a gritty, rough, awful process, and it's one we're willing to stay at your side through. Many times, I finished my scheduled group sessions and yet refused to budge, sometimes for two more hours, to sit with a person who was facing this pain, grieving it, sobbing in front of me, rather than leaving her behind so I could tidy up and start on my paperwork and leave on time. Why? Because you are HUMAN to us, and it matters that you are hurting. This is not a project or a script to us; this is profound and deeply-felt work. It's no wonder the number of counselors who choose training in working with rape trauma is dropping off SIGNIFICANTLY (in Oklahoma, there are now NONE, zero, who maintain State Coalition certification of training in rape trauma work).
  
  There are two emotions any therapist working with rape trauma must be willing to feel: the pain of seeing so clearly, and the surge of joy when you succeed. The pain gives us a sense of moral obligation to this work, reminding us that you are not beneath us and seeking to rise up, but EQUAL to us, that your hurts matter, that this work is always more than a paycheck. It is the pain that keeps us planted in that room with you, when we could simply wrap up and move on to our next activity. How many hours did I spend sitting with someone as they cried and choked? I wouldn't have kept count if I could have. It is that sense of total equality that caused me to encourage clients to challenge me, disagree, debate, and state their points of view; those are the actions of one equal relating to another.
  
  (You may have noticed that on RAR, there has NEVER been a sense of "Matt has the final word, we all then agree." Hell, nobody takes more !%^& than I do here, nobody is debated more, argued with more, griped at more, and confronted more than me! That is because this is a place of equality--and there are even some members of RAR who hate me! You know why? This isn't the "Matt club." It's a place for collective work toward healing. It's YOUR place.)
  
  It is the JOY that reminds us that this work succeeds. If our work is only oriented around pain, there is something very wrong. People used to ask me, "how can you listen to that many stories about problems and not get depressed?" The truth is, I *never* got depressed by it, not once, because I wasn't listening to problems and stories of failure, I was listening for solutions in stories of perseverance. Some survivors simply needed a compassionate hearer, and then they could move on; I may not even remember their names today. Others needed an ally to continue to walk through this journey with them, never abandoning them, and they remain in touch with me months and years later to update me on their victories. The only way sitting with such pain can be tolerable is when we know that healing can come. That knowledge has sustained me during some very strong depression and despair in my own life, and there are many times I am not as determined and confident as I might appear here; I bear wounds, griefs, and self-doubt that still pursue me like hunting dogs. I have not always shared that with RAR members here, but there are times I log in, as depressed and hopeless as I've ever been, and just join my friends anyway.
  
  When we sit with you and hear/see your pain, we are not anthropologists observing behavior. We are humans in connection with other humans. Some women wonder whether I might inappropriately imagine the rapes they are describing, and then they become self-conscious at the possibility that I am envisioning what they experienced. Let me answer that from my own experience: no! I look at a survivor's face, and intentionally focus on the emotions she is expressing--even the nausea and the choking grief. I *want* to study those emotions, because they force me to remain attentive to her humanness, as well as my own, seeing her as a valuable, worthy life, not as a prop, target, or victim. If she were valueless, her experiences would not have mattered, and there would be no pain. But the pain is there and it is sharp BECAUSE she is a worthwhile, even holy, life that has been injured. I need to focus on that, not for pity or pious sentiments about this work, but to keep me engaged with her humanity so that my humanity does not erode from the hearing. My imagination is at work, yes, but not to imagine the scene she has described, but to imagine the emotions that the scene has caused her.
  
  When you dig down and pull up the stuff you have buried, and when it scrapes and chokes and tears you to bits on its way out, we (I) are not simply watching "a client progressing through a treatment plan." We (I) are watching a human life fighting for renewal. It is a miracle of the soul, and so few therapists ever get to see it. I've seen it more than 500 times, and every time was astonishing. EVERY time. It has not depressed or exhausted me, it has taught me about the strength of a spirit. That is why I cannot and do not give up.
  
  Now, let me admit this, too: I have seen this miracle happen even among some clients I did not particularly get along with. It's true! Some clients and I just clashed. I have never convinced myself that something about ME brought out their healing, because it has been clear in those instances that it was the client's own readiness, not the therapeutic relationship, that succeeded. But even then, I have always accepted the truth that healing is not a privilege to be dispensed or obstructed by me and my feelings. I (or any therapist) am not the arbiter or doorkeeper of healing, choosing who may approach it and who will be turned away.
  
  Oh, there have been times I have had to sever ties with certain people because of clashes that just go too deeply to continue, but at no point did I ever assume that meant their right to HEAL was revoked. To this day, I have remained firm that if there is something I could do to promote someone's healing, to offer them a resource, or include them in a healing experience, it would be wrong to deny it. Recovery is not a commodity or a club membership, and it is not given or snatched away based on feelings toward ME. It is the end result of this work you are doing, and I am proud to see you here doing it. I just thought you should see what this is like from the perspective of a former counselor so that you will never halt your progress out of fear that you have not pleased your counselor, or that you lack the strength, or that this gift is for all others but you, or that you are personally doomed to agony while the rest of us celebrate.
  
  
• Reply #3 11/04/09  10:41pm
  
  scubagirl1
  Yeah.....that was better than what I said... lol
  
  And Matt, there's nothing "former" about your counselor status. (nudge, read above....)
• Reply #4 11/04/09  11:24pm
  
  EmpoweredOKC
  Yeah--former. I'm sorry. Social worker in exile. Sent to Azkaban. I hate to say it, but a lot of my wind left my sails, and I am not nearly as strong-hearted a man as I was.
• Reply #5 11/04/09  11:30pm
  
  scubagirl1
  You're just as strong-hearted, just knocked around a bit. You'll pick yourself back up, dust yourself off, but not until you sit back and let yourself feel sad for a while. No wind in the sails is ok, enjoy staying put for a little...
• Reply #6 11/05/09  7:58am
  
  butterfly9
  I was writing and lost what I was writing. Ugh.. Let me try again.
  
  Thank you for your perspective. I am lucky to have my therapist. The other day, Tuesday, she had a beautiful scarf on that she made for her daughter. I left that day thinking about how lucky her daughters to have her as a mom because she must be a great mom. I told her that yesterday. My mother was not a good mother. That is a total other story. Well, she said that she would make me a scarf. It makes me cry as I am writing this. She is always there for me if I need her. I can tell that this more than just a job to her. I know that she is one of those that cares. She is a special person.
  
  That being said that the second dream that I had to work through was difficult but not as much as the first one. It is more about getting comfort.
  
  Overall, yesterday was better than Tuesday. I know that more of this stuff lies ahead, though.
  
  I am also lucky to be here and have all of the people that are here. Thanks...
  
  BTW: I was in bed quite early yesterday :).
• Reply #7 11/05/09  11:04am
  
  StehtFest
  Matt, what you wrote meant a lot to me. I wish I could have read it when I started therapy, but I probably wouldn't have believed it then.
  
  The first few times my therapist expressed a genuinely compassionate response to the what I was telling him about my rape, I didn't really believe or trust him. I wanted to ask him, "Why the hell are you acting like you care? Or is this just some therapeutic technique?" So I did ask him, slightly more politely. His answer was genuine and believable. It was also soothing, as if my wounds were being gently tended to.
  
  Sometimes the fact that my therapist is an actual human being can be kinda scary to me. But knowing he genuinely cares for me has meant a lot. He doesn't sit there unmoved by my pain. I can't begin to describe how huge that is for me. In fact, I'm crying as I write this.
• Reply #8 11/05/09  11:15am
  
  EmpoweredOKC
  We DO care, we are actual human beings, we laugh or hurt when you laugh or hurt, we are able to BEING hurt, we make mistakes and screw up, and we see this work as a way to support people. Sadly, because people often regard therapists as tricky bastards who use clever techniques, there is a fear that ANY gesture of human compassion is a trick, a way to test the person, a form of manipulation, resulting in fear and umbrage by someone who has already been hurt plenty.
• Reply #9 11/05/09  11:52am
  
  butterfly9
  You now it is interesting when I first started therapy that it seemed strange all of the kindness and caring. I kept thinking that this is her job. We had many conversations around the relationship which is clearly unique.
  
  I finally realized after awhile that she truly cares as a person. Then, I cried for a few weeks just about that.
  
  It is a hard concept to get. I am convinced that there is not a more intimate profession than this one. Anyone who goes into this must really be about helping people. I imagine that is not an easy job at all.
  
  I always find myself thanking her for what she does.
• Reply #10 11/05/09  12:23pm
  
  EmpoweredOKC
  That's not always true, though. "Mainstream" therapies are still by-the-book business. Innovative therapies like Dialectical Behavior Therapy are actively promoting "healthy platonic dual relationships" as essential and effective components to treatment, but the term "dual relationship" still causes bureaucracies to cry "foul!" because of the older connotation that it was a careful way to imply sexual or immoral conduct between the therapist and client. More and more ethicists, including those who teach courses, are promoting the notion that a positive, platonic dual relationship is not only helpful to the process, but PROTECTIVE of the client (see, for example: http://www.zurinstitute.com/dualre... ). Oklahoma has clearly not accepted this premise.
  
  The term "dual relationship" in this context means that the use of traditional therapeutic methods is augmented by demonstrations of personal caring: the giving of appropriate gifts, a hug, verbal expressions of caring, sitting with a client for coffee after a breakthrough session, even engaging in prayer with a client. This is what I call "contraband compassion": the demonstration of true, heartfelt caring for a client that "the powers that be" prohibit as scandalous.

Discussion, question-and-answer, general social support, and journal processing for progress-oriented rape survivors. No crisis, no damaging or triggering conflicts--this is for individuals who want to contribute to collective, cooperative action toward the goal of making actual PROGRESS through rape trauma. Much of this work is based on the book "Resurrection After Rape." Diversity of topics is expected and encouraged!