It will be three weeks until I see her again. She’s on holidays now. I’m mostly ok with that. I haven’t seen my new therapist enough to have any attachment issues. I’m hoping it will stay that way. That kind of stuff is too hard for me to handle successfully.
When I walked into the room I noticed she had art supplies on a table. Some large sheets of paper and different types of drawing mediums. We started to talk about feelings, one of my least favorite topics. Questions are asked that I can’t answer. “How do you feel about that?” “How does that feel to you?” “What are you feeling now?” My least favorite question from a therapist, “Where in your body do you feel that?”
We sat down at the table. She asked me to test out the different drawing materials. The ones I liked best were the chalk pastels. They are soft and light. She showed me different ways of using them. It was interesting because an artist I am not. My skill is nothing more than scribbles and stick men.
After a bit the therapist asked me to draw the feelings she named. How they would look to me. It sounds difficult and was in many ways but I tried not to over think it. The first emotion was happiness. I drew a simple standard happy face. The second one was joy. I drew a pine tree with roots. Funny thing though, it was the therapist who noticed the roots not me. Joy to me is so much more than happiness. To me it’s deeper than happiness. Not as dependent on outside circumstance. We talked about this for a while. The third emotion was gladness. I drew a couple of lines that went slightly upwards.
The last emotion that we talked about near the end of the session was fear. It took me longer to try to draw this because it’s something I’d rather avoid at all costs. The picture I scribbled was larger than the others. It was red, yellow and orange with a small black dot in the center. The small black dot was me being overwhelmed and swallowed by the fear. Fear making me non-existent. By the time I finished it I was anxiety filled. She kept reminding me that I was in a safe place. Maybe my surroundings were safe but nothing inside felt safe. I did find it quite amazing what my the therapist saw in the picture. She even noticed the way my hand drew the picture. With energy and short choppy strokes.
We talked about the photo for a short bit and then time was up. I was glad to leave and leave the picture behind.