As I did my walk this morning, I saw Julie and Vince coming toward me, bickering about something. Vince had a stance, and Julie was arguing with him. When they came up to me, Julie said, "He thinks incontinence doesn't exist. It's just a matter of exerting control." There I was at six am talking about incontinence in the middle of the street with people I hardly know. I love Hawaii.
I just found out yesterday that my leaking problems may be caused by a prolapsed something or another. Julie argued that she had a tipped bladder. I have no idea if I have something that interesting too.
The gardeners were here today. They trimmed the Ficus trees that were starting to block my ocean view. The remarkable views we have here in Hawaii have to be maintained. The arborists are always busy, busy, busy.
Today was a rainy day again. I felt sluggish again. D. canceled his appointment; He was at his grandmother's. I'll see if I get to see him on Friday. His mom controls all this. I'm not sure what is going on. There have been many missed sessions. There were problems with her email. I don't know if she got the problem fixed.
It was just as well. I had an appointment with Shelly at noon; at least, I thought I did. She didn't call. I finally called her. She thought I had made it for two weeks. Apparently, other clients had been making appointments back-to-back because of stress over the election. Now that it was over, they dialed back their appointments.
While I did have some anxiety over the election, that's certainly not over now. Who knows what Trump is going to do? I was resigned. I was preparing for a new Dark Ages- worldwide. I read disturbances like that occur each time there was a media upgrade in the past, like when the printing press made texts readily available, well more readily available. Today we have the Internet, which makes every bit of information, true or not, available. It is so '1984.'
Shelly said she was just doing paperwork and could give me the time. Last week, I brought up a topic that nags at me. I had a therapist who saw me in the worst light. She relied entirely on her own 'insights' and never, and I do never mean, thought she might ask me a direct question.
While I was working with her, Mike started his second Ph.D. at Catholic University. I had a private tutoring and healing practice up to that point. It was time to get a job so we could get health insurance. This therapist was shocked. She announced she didn't think I was capable of holding a regular job. I set her straight on my work history and my history with my coworkers and my bosses. Surprise!!
Why did I continue working with her? I knew. Again, she wouldn't dream of asking. She reminded me of my mother, who constantly accused me of all sorts of negative things, including that I had thin, baby-fine hair. I didn't, still don't have thin, baby fine hair; that was her problem. I figured out that she accused me of all the things she didn't like in herself. That's how she vented her stress. My mom created an alternate reality in which I was a waste of space. This therapist duplicated that experience without the karate cries and screaming. I finally quit this therapist. I thanked her for hanging on long enough to allow me to be the one who left the relationship.
Last week, I wanted to work on my anger toward this therapist. Shelly did something unusual. She said she thought I was probably really feeling sad. I have never heard her tell me that I wasn't in touch with 'my true feeling.' At this time, I said, while she may be right, but at this time, I'm in touch with anger, and that's what I'd like to work on. If sadness underlies the anger, it will come up on its own.
I thought about what my real feelings were during the week. I came to the conclusion is was terror. I also thought dealing with the terror that the therapist (who I haven't worked with for twenty-six years) brought up in me would help me deal with the fear of having my work seen by others.
Shelly could feel my fear. She said she had never felt anything like it. It was solid. I believe my fears have several causes. One is undoubtedly from my mother, who was not just always critical but introduced her verbal assault with a karate cry. (I once demonstrated it in a therapy group and watched everyone jump.) Mike used to say it was as if I had been tortured. Those cries of alarm that she issued were like taser shocks. It's taken a long time to recover from that, but I have done it.
The other cause for the underlying fear is trickier. I 'know' that people physically attack and kill those who are different. My parents were refugees from Nazi Germany. Every other therapist I have worked with has nodded, yes, yes, but there's reality. Excuse me, people's reaction to those who are different from them is universal. I am in touch with reality.
We all know that people can do horrible things to people who are different. No one hasn't read about it. However, it is different if your family has experienced it personally within the last few generations.
I worked with a Vietnamese man who was born after the war. He was having some academic problems. I did the exercise to help students release the primitive fear when they can't perform the way they are expected to. I asked him to ask his forebrain, conscious mind, if it believed he would be killed if he couldn't write a paper correctly. I could see the terror rise up in him. This exercise will not work for those whose relatives have been threatened with death because of their difference.
In defense of my therapists of the past, the concept of the inheritance of acquired characteristics had been poo-pooed until very recently. They have discovered something called epigenetics. Our genes can be altered by experience, and then we can pass on those changes to our offspring. Shelly had just read an article on the topic. Also, she worked with a therapeutic approach that acknowledges something called 'tribal block,' some trauma that came down from our ancestors.
I felt tremendous relief from her acknowledgment. I could sit and just observe this fear in my body without running from it. The only threat was internal; I didn't have to worry about the therapist's negative judgment as I have had to in the past. The fear is vast and dense. A good bet is this density goes beyond family experience with Germany in the 40s. This is a fear that goes back in my family for generations. Anti-Semitism was a given.
My therapist commented about there being the "Jewish race." This set off an alarm. I started to argue with her. She explained her thinking; Jewish people could trace their heritage back to their original tribes. I responded poorly to that term. I believe referring to Jewish people as being of a different race is a dog whistle. (However, I read recently of some Jewish man who classified himself that way.) I don't know how many people think of Jews that way. I don't know if it's innocent or the meme of the anti-Semitics. Dorothy will know. I will check with her tomorrow.
At any rate, Shelly's comment set off alarm bells. It changed my relationship with the fear. I started running. I told her what that term meant to me. She was genuinely innocent. I can't imagine Shelly committed to such a position. Do I think she is entirely free from anti-Semitism? Of course, not; she was raised in this world. For someone to be free of anti-Semitism is no more possible than to be free of racist feelings towards blacks. The difference is what you do with those feelings.
An hour after my session with Shelly, I had a tutoring session with M. It went magnificently. She had already read the article assigned by her teacher. She said she thought she could answer the questions without rereading it. She zoomed through six questions, dictating the answers to me, and did a dynamite job.
I'd like to work on her speech skills. She stiff in her verbal expression skills. She needs to improve the music of her speech. I think I can do this using co-writing and incorporating speech. She responds well to instruction.
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