My first talk therapist wasn’t highly skilled. It wasn’t her fault. She was a student intern at the SUNY Geneseo health center. She probably had been trying her best to gain experience in order to become a licensed mental health counselor. It was 2002 and I was entering into my Junior year of college. I had just survived my first psychotic bipolar one episode. Think resources today aren’t very good for people with mental health issues? The situation was even worse in 2002.
I remember sitting with this young woman during our sessions. Her name escapes me though. Maybe it was Beth? I do remember a few things, however, about the sessions. First, she had this unusual tic where her eyelids would uncontrollably flutter. The fluttering happened a lot. I have no rational reason for this, but it bothered me. Second, she didn’t know what to say to me or really ask me about! I was very doped up on anti-psychotic medication at the time, so I won’t say that holding a conversation with me would have been an easy task for anyone. For Beth and I, the massive silence during most of our sessions together was almost excruciating.
The one topic that Beth did get me to open up about was the relationship my disease had destroyed between my former boyfriend, Phil, and myself. I had no idea what was going on when I first came down with bipolar one disorder. I had no name for the intense mood swings, the crippling depression and the fits of rage I directed at Phil. During those times, and after we broke up, I felt terribly guilty about how I behaved. There is a regret that existed, compounding the pain of an illness that isn’t well-understood and leaves one lonely.
Beth (or perhaps her supervisor…) had one therapeutic method for me that I remember positively. She had me write Phil a letter. Not to send it, but to express my feelings in full and to get it all out on paper. There is something so beautiful about creating art and all of the healing power within it. Writing a letter, writing a blog… this is all creation, or sublimination if you enjoy psychological defense mechanism terms. Transforming pain into creation has healing properties. I poured my broken heart out onto the paper. I found the words that were submerged by the strong, yet necessary, medications. Aspects about our relationship and the terrible ways I had treated Phil, that I couldn’t verbalize, came out of my pen and into the letter. I was able to read the letter to Beth and to process my experience with her. Have you ever tried this method of healing? Here’s a Healing Letter from myself today to my old counselor:
Dear Beth,
Thank you for working with me, despite my continued snottiness about your strange eye flutter and my belief that you weren’t the greatest therapist. You did teach me about using the Expressive Arts modality of Writing Letters and not sending them. We made some emotional movement together. It’s not your fault that you were young and inexperienced when you saw me in therapy. We all start young and inexperienced. I understand that better as I grow into Middle Age. I am healthy and thriving now. I even use the Letters exercise with my own clients! I hope that you have grown in your technique and that you feel more comfortable working with those who aren’t particularly verbal, for whatever their reason may be. I’m certainly verbal now!
Best wishes,
Alia Healy Cross, LMHC
