The sound of the door bell waking me up
This is already a wonderful day, even if I was torn out of sleep by kids ex exercising their finger muscles on my door bell. I tried to hide in the shadow as I opened because of my frankenstein’s face mask, but by their swift disappearance, I’m not sure I managed. They brought a present; My snow-White mate for life, little Amadeus. He’s been naughty as usual, but wasnt away for long this time, and that wasnt to bad either, since I had a visitor yesterday.
Today I’m going to Bergen together with Helene. The anticipation is brimming: I will see my psycholgy Friends, my sister, my best friend and a lot of other Friends, and will in addition to that play boardgames, maybe Even Resistance, which is the best social game ever made that I know of! I have also done a lot lately, for example met a lot of warm and inspiring psychologist, organized things for my group (am now planning a hike to a cabin) and read about mentalization. I’ve had the best chatts, and talked a lot with an amazing guy. Can’t believe my luck, it was worth fighting away the hurt, rejection and dissapointment that lingered from the bad choices I made. I feel free, and will devour every bit of life with vigor. I have so many good things now: Wonderful and caring friends in many cities, a great family, the best job where I help the nicest people find their inner beauty, all the things I need, and my Italian course, that produce goose-bumps when I discover yet another beautiful word that gives my ear another reason to listen to magic.
Remember this: even if everything is as bad as it can be, you will get the price in the end. Or like my mother said; Nothing is so bad that it can’t be fixed. I believe that, and if you don’t, listen to my and others stories, and don’t forget you’ve felt good before.
The overhead projector is making its electric sound from above my head, spitting out black letters on a white board. The theme is affect integration in psychotherapy, the Ph.D. Project of my colleague, Nils. He’s moving to Oslo very soon, leaving us others behind in the small place where I now have worked for two years. It’s Tuesday morning, and we always have some presentation then. Last Tuesday I was in the spotlight, talking about trauma and the treatment of it.
Psychology, like other sciences, have a lot of jargon that sometimes need explaining. On of these expression is what I will write about now, which also is what Nils I talking about. Integration. It’s really not an especially pretty word, it gives associations to the sounds produced when you drag some item over a blackboard. It’s not like the pretty Italian words, rolling around in the mouth and room like it belongs there, caressing the target. But it’s not always the pretty things that matter the most, sometimes the glitter and glamour is just that, with no depth or meaning. Integration is so much more than that, when you scratch the surface its real beauty comes alive.
Two threads are not necessarily pretty themselves. One white, and one black on are just that, naked in their aloneness, longing for a partner. It’s first when they get twined together, the whiteness surrounding the dark places, that it comes alive. Think about the yin and yang. What would it be if not the other color stood by it? What would the magic scene of schindlers list, where the redness screams for attention in an otherwise colorless movie, be without the grayness? This is, as I see it, an example of integration, where the whole is more and better than its parts. It’s like making good food, the ingredient in themselves doesn’t make the mouth water, it’s the combination that gives extra flavor and meaning.
With a lot of real life problems, this also applies. It’s the people comfortable in their own skin, accepting their natural tendencies and integrating it with society, that feel complete. If a puzzle is not put together in the way it’s meant, the result won’t be right. Fitting the wrong piece into the puzzle, doesn’t work. For a human this could be inhibiting natural tendencies like joy and sadness, because the integration of preferences and logic, doesn’t combine. It’s like trying to shape someone into what you want them to be, but no matter what, the picture will not be anything else than what it was supposed to be. If forced long enough, the person will try to keep the picture together, using superglue on those pieces that doesn’t slide together naturally. It’s some integration, but not the one meant to be.
In my work I see this every day: People want to feel joy, but shame stops it from surfacing, boys want to laugh and talk, but the thoughts of somebody disliking them, abort the tendency of fun in its first trimester. It’s even more noticeable after trauma, when a lot of different roles develop that make them follow a script, often without vigor or satisfaction. It’s memories kept away, true selves locked in closed boxes and lives never lived. It always pains me to watch this in reality: The wonderful woman, who carries Everyone else’s weight in addition to her own, the man in a destructive relationship who thinks he doesn’t have the right to be happy, or the child quenching her own happiness because she doesn’t dare to laugh in a house full of gloom. The feelings, needs and tendencies, doesn’t fit into the picture someone’s trying to make, and therefore they are hidden, forgotten or forced into the wrong part, since it has to go somewhere. This is the point when the integrated system break down, where fast solutions have to be executed to compensate for the losses and keeping the organism functioning in some way. It’s when the flower shreds some petals to keep from being blown over by harsh weather, and like the bee delivering the deadly sting to protect its queen. Who of us hasn’t experienced being defensive, destruction the very same things we really longed for?
Hopefully it’s never too late. Even when a completed picture has scratches and left-overs from glue for the sake of getting everything right for the second time, the picture can still be pretty and important. Isn’t it a fact that it’s the worn and torn pics on a scrapbook page we fall for. The old photos that tell a history of a life lived? I believe in integration. In putting pieces where they belong, even when they weren’t right the first time. I think that each time we let somebody just be, whoever they are, we are helping them patch up the wrongs, and even adding the little extra that self-confident people spread without knowing it. We are all small saviors, plucking harmony and tolerance and watering others with it.
- Your Map of Reality Was Written in the Womb: Falls from Grace, Chapter One – Prenatal and Perinatal Psychology and the Phenomenon of Re-Experience (apocalypseknow.wordpress.com)
The Big and bad day.
Some days feel like being a vacuum-cleaner trying to get rid of all the snow, not knowing its not what it seems to be. That feeling when darkness is safer than this world, when the things that gave joy the day before are tinted and horrible.
I had a boyfriend. He made me laugh with my heart opened and tender, loving everything fiercely. When I thought about coming home, resting in his arms, everything could be endured. The beauty was in his every word, it sent chills down my spines and made air unnecessary. I went all miles worth going, without training or help, because the finish line delivered the smile of my life. I longed for it, devoured it and lost it.
He shall know that what I am, right now broken but still strong, came from him. I could be myself, I did not care what the world thought about me because I was fine, everything was fine. I put jealousy, my faithful warder, in his own prison and kept it at bay. I drowned poison seeping though the cracks with infectious care and forgiveness. I learned that to lose control is gaining it, even if I now stand here alone.
I lost this person, who gave me his water necessary for growing. I will love him for that, and true love sometimes involves letting go.
I see you running in the fields. Flowers around you, laughter and joy. I thought it would be me, there by your side, but I tripped and lost my chance.
Narrative of my life: Introduction
Many people Ask: Where do I begin When they get the possibility to tell their story. Since I work with people every day, I have heard many variants, and I will no chose the overview variant to give you an idea of who I am and how I became that way. I am already, in the age of 26 (27 in two days) eager to share my story, and maybe that gives me many fascinating stories in return. I have always been interested in other people. I guess that explains hours spent on movies, reading and reality shows. Today I work with what I love, talking to people from 8-16 as a therapist. People usually Ask : don’t You Get tired of it? My answer still is: No! Even if I read hundred books, I never get tired of that either. Some books are better than others of course, but I love it when I find something that manage to surprise me, and humans never stop to amaze me. Every person has their own personality, that you usually grasp automatically based on intuition, that unexplained x-factor that make you love and hate, sometimes because of unknown reasons. To hear how someone became like that, is like opening a gift box. You may have inklings of what might come, but it never ceases to surprise me. It can be a touching description of somebody’s day, for example how they worried that their mother would be hit by a car, or a summary of their childhood. It can be how they talk, dress and behave, and even better, it’s changing every time a person experience something new.
I feel in many ways that I have my essence still, but outwardly and inwardly I have also changed a lot. When I look at video-camera footage of myself, I almost get a bit ashamed. Was that me? How could I be so obnoxious? The same thing happens when I look at my writing from back then. I could not understand what I did wrong, now it blinks and announces itself with great vigor, and I have to smile at my high hopes.
I hope my life story will be okay for somebody to read, too. It’s full of sad, happy and normal memories, but I know nobody out there has exactly the same story as me, in that case I would like to meet you very much! If you have questions along the way, please feel free to ask.
Will start writing my story as fast as possible, please stay tuned for more.
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