I haven’t seen my therapist in about two weeks but I’ll see him in just a few hours. I planned to do nothing much in the way of therapy and I think I’ve accomplished that. I certainly didn’t expect to get sick (who does). I planned to bum, paint, hang out, chat and mess around. Of course stuff comes up cause who really gets a chance to take a break from their healing process? When “stuff” popped up I kicked into the art therapy side of the healing process. This is pretty much all the therapy I’ve done in the last 2 weeks. (Feel free to visit my Art Therapy gallery)
Walking into his office should be interesting. I have to wonder if I’ll recognize him. Sometimes I do, sometimes he has to approach me to let me know he’s the one I’m seeing that day. I know why I’m there but I’ve gotta try and place who I’m there to see. The first five minutes of therapy are the most uncomfortable. He asks how we’re doing. We say fine then everyone plays reverse musical chairs. It seems everyone in side scatters and the one left sitting has to face the music. We scatter so fast. There’s no telling who will be there. There’s very little sense in planning for therapy discussions because of our tendency for flight. If there’s something he needs to know it sure as heck better get written down because by the time we walk through his door we’ve done the revolving door thing. We’ve switched so much it could make us dizzy. By the time we take the short walk to the sofa we’ve more than likely switched again. Sitting down doesn’t stop the panic and running away. But about 5 min in the loser of musical alters “gets” to talk. That is unless Robert shows up. That’s when the whole “how are you” “I’m fine” BS gets skipped. He has to be out before we get there for that to happen. He’ll go right in and say, ‘Hey, lets skip the pleasantries all right? They’re just a formality. I’d rather not do it.” He’ll then go right into what he has to say.
The question, “how are you” really is a stupid one. I mean come on, how am I? Really? After all your schooling you still ask that question? Asking that at the beginning of the session is in fact a formality, it’s polite, it gets things rolling. Therapists know we’re going to give the same hollow untruthful answer. “I’m fine” or “I’m alive.” I suppose if my therapist can put up with never being sure which patient he’ll treat in a given session I can put up with that stupid question. I think I’ve just reached an agreement with my therapist. I suppose I’ll clue him in on this agreement sometime. I just have to figure out who will lose at musical alters. That person can tell him about our agreement.
“The Darker Me” by Milwaukee age 12
“Earthly” by Joan of Arc age 28
“Low Bloom” by Maureen age 19
“Thinker” by Joan of Arc age 28
“Walled Man” by Milwaukee age 12 (This piece is old but still meaningful for us. The whole point of Walled Man is that some of us will fight tooth and nail to make this life worth living but others feel defeated and have stopped trying.)
July 20th - July 27th BUY ONE GET ONE HALF OFF of equal or lessor value. Your bill will reflect the discount.
Postcards excluded.
Your artwork is just amazing!
Hope therapy went well,
and that you all have a fabulous day:)
much love,
Angel
“how are you?” is a question I’m never sure how to answer. That’s about as bad as, “So how does that make you feel?” Or “so what would you like to talk about today?”
I wonder if your therapist asks how you are just to give you a moment’s pause before plunging into that day’s session? Or could be he really wants to know, as in, “Has anything new come up you really need to talk about?” Maybe it’s his way of nudging you into blurting out, “I’m suicidal” or “today I just feel numb” or whatever.
I hate that question myself though, so I know what you mean. My automatic response is always, “Fine.” I could be on my death bed and if asked how I was that would be my response (though I don’t know why someone would ask that of someone on their death bed, but that’s beside the point!)