The Black Box.

  After a passionate plea. Sent as a voice recording.  I said it was about the past. I had needed to tell him how I felt.  How I felt about my son, my husband, the fear.. But it was in the time of Covid,  Zoom,  I was in the house.  Impossible to speak freely. Now I need to tell him how I felt.  An hour isn't enough time!  I want him to know who I am. I sit in the car about to go..  This is not therapy! I had sent him a voice message full of blurred lines, and five months later the blurred lines had sunk into the mud as trenches surmounted with razor wire...in a minefield.  I had no way to know this as I hit send. As I prepared myself to knock on the door and start this session I believed in him as a trusted companion. I wanted the enormity of my journey, the weight of it, the devastation, all of it to be witnessed and acknowledged. I was trusting him to see. And I needed an emotional, whole, a real interaction.  There had been a blurring of the lines. There was a difference betwee

25th July 2021. Notes A day full of physical panic, my body full of crawling spinning electricity.  Not a nice feeling, not nice at all.  Then suddenly I was washed through and through. And the weaving, spinning, churn stopped.  I stood for a precious moment in the still point at the centre of the Sun - and I felt love once more. Mostly the laughing, that we laugh together... And that I am culpable.  It stops the panic.  Stops me waiting for the hammer to fall   Stills my expectation of a coming time, my trial by language. What is my worst fear? More hours, weeks, months of blaming myself for feeling anxiety.  So, more of the same then!  I could tell - when my husband was lying. My anxiety was well founded. Just no information... What do I want to know? Only good and positive things.  I'm beaten up. The greater my need for positive,  the harder it is to accept there can be negative consequences  for honesty...  26th July 2021. Discussion. There is that cough - he tells me not

Plato believed that Eros would take us into a Higher truth and mystery, and Jung agreed. As Freud continued thrashing around with scissors snipping cruelly at Eros. Blood and feathers falling around him like tears.  I am certain that many of psychotherapy's best theories and explanations are a continuation of much older concepts and ideas - repackaged so as to appear new. So when Kit talked about fantasy 'with a PH '' I was trying to recall Ioan P Couliano's book:  Eros and Magic in the Renaissance.  Couliano explains that Eros was understood as the aspiration to transcendental Beauty. Plato places Eros as the link between physical existence and spiritual essence, we fly with Eros. In opposition to this - and Freud is regarded as  the father of advertising  -  Eros becomes chthonic, wingless, primal desire (libido) demanding in an inarticulate way, that the outside world satisfies our desire. To avoid prison the energy of Eros is blocked and redirected by the nume

20th July 2021. So, here it is.  The day after.  I'm never going to forget it, seeing you. You were looking up the road, looking for me.  Waving.  I waved back my most graceful wave and slowly raised a hand to shield my eyes from the powerful sun that was fizzling my world into glitter.  That walk. Oh I was slow, considered, graceful, I am beautiful - I try to believe that.  Feel, it. Know it... Trust. It took me hours to reach you. Slomo. Closer . Then I followed you, simply not seeing.  Totally gone.  I wasn't there.  Really!   I went to sit in the wrong place, therapists always sit closest to the door.  But there are two doors? And so I shifted as you said, 'sit anywhere' but I felt you move to the seat closest to the other door - my wordless interpretation is so fast! Outside of here - the hottest day.  Inside - here - your room.  Wooden floor.  We are cool inside an old house.  You asked me if I wanted a drink, I asked for water.  You asked me if I wanted some cide

14th July 2021. Notes: A book on attachment theory glows under the afternoon sun,  by my left knee,  as I sit here on the sofa. The sun hot on my neck.  I'm so sleepy.  Monday is finally face to face, covid restrictions lifted - and I've got used to this safe distance, this abeyance, this kicking it into the long grass, this avoidance!  And I'm overstepping the mark in my own, quiet way . . But I'm still here, having stated very clearly that I am not your client - and I'm reading your  email - saying that you are so glad I have asked for the sessions to be more in line with what I need...  Genuinely I am in a fog.  If I was in your role I would ask 'my client' about her feelings  unless I didn't want to know!  OK. I'm cracking up!  And I've got to be rational, patient and strong.  And right now start practicing what I need to say.  OK, it goes like this.   I didn't realise that you mattered to me until I felt that I would break apart into a m

Zoom. And so it began - very well! He told me how much he had enjoyed our conversation in the previous week, and how pleased he was to continue in this way, so pleased that I'd decided to change our contract, that I'm no longer a client - now a mentee. He said -  "you know for a while I thought what are these sessions for really, a piece of paper to pass a course! Could be so much more than that..." Well, my ideas had been steamrollered in the previous dialogue, for sure. But the emotional price I was paying was worth it; he had enjoyed talking to me (so my skill in conversing with a person as if from within their world-view) is validated and I had learnt a lot about standard, counselling theory which would be used in writing my assignments. The cost to me, well it felt more like a challenge than actual cost. I felt as I have felt in many lectures or computer games, that I am not good enough, can't do it, I'm not clever, fast, intelligent or knowledgeable en

When I began processing my therapy sessions last year (2023) my aim was to understand how my feelings for Kit came about, and  why it ended so badly.  And the end really was bad. I don't honestly know how I had the strength to walk out of his room, I felt so defeated, so crushed. To understand and answer these questions I re-entered the dialogues, my thoughts and feelings, and over the year 2023, I documented the therapy sessions 2021-2022. Most of them, not all. Some are too boring, or I accidently missed one out. And they are now being published every Monday - as the contents of the black box.   2024 is the process part of the black box.  As I went through the dialogues I became aware of a factor X! And isn't X what a black box is really all about? In this case, X is the something, underlying Kit's entrenched beliefs. I can see the effect of X in the dialogues, in the way that it is as if Kit was unable to hear or consider the validity of my theories, and X - if found -