My drawings were behind the chair that I usually sit in. She asked me to move my chair so I could look at my work. The only place I could move my chair was beside her. So now, not only am I feeling disconnected from looking at my work I am also starting to feel disoriented. I always face my T. I have never sat beside her. I need to see her face; I need to see her body language. I need to see how she is reacting toward me. I feel uneasy.
With all this stuff going on within me, I need to try to engage with the work she is asking me to do. No small task. I am feeling out of it by now.
I stare at the blank sheet of paper. The minutes tick by. I start to wonder if I should tell her that I can’t do this right now.
But I just sit there. She seems relaxed, just letting me take my time, letting happen what needs to happen. In the silence I wish I could see her face. But when it finally dawns on me that she is being patient, the pressure eases up.
After what seems like eternity I am finally able to sketch out some parts, five to be exact. I still can’t go near the bad parts of me.
My T then asks me to arrange them on the wall. She wants me to take my time doing this. I rearranged them several times before I was satisfied. I sit down and she asks me if there is anything I see in my arrangement of the parts that I drew. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to see but being fairly clueless about myself I of course didn’t see anything.
She asked me if she could share with me what she sees within the arrangement. Go ahead but I’m sure there’s not much to see.
By the time she finished sharing you could have knocked me over with a feather. There it was as plain as day but for some reason I couldn’t see it on my own. Now I could see how some parts were clumped together while keeping others apart. Some drawings were hiding others. It was also interesting to see the one (control) I stuck at the very top and the one that was at the very bottom (baby or very young child, which by the way doesn’t exist).
As we were discussing a certain part that I was having a hard time explaining it suddenly occurred to me that this part had parts within it. But I’m not sure that’s possible. I’m more inclined to think that I really don’t understand that part of me yet. Are you confused yet because I am.
My T asked me if she could leave the drawings on the wall overnight so she could take a picture of them in the morning. Apparently as I continue to draw and rearrange these parts of me she wants to keep track of the progression.
As hard as doing this is, I am starting to realize how much art has helped in accessing what was totally inaccessible in me.