Little Me

aww ~ 05/25/11
non-subject: out of hiding
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When I got the final email from John Knapp, the one that felt like the final blow of kicking someone who was already down...at first I was numb. I felt like all this stuff was a bad dream.

I felt stupid, small, childish.

Carol, it's not that big of a deal, I told myself.

I wasn't sure how I could ever trust myself again.

John probably knows me better than I know myself.

Does he? He's my counselor. He's a mental health professional. He knows shit that I don't know.

More thoughts that at the time seemed worthy to consider.

I can trust John's judgement of me more than I can trust myself. I'm a moron and a fool.

I'd been deemed untrustworthy by a few of the inner circle at Greasespot Cafe, the online forum where some ex-Way refugees gathered. I'd been labeled not worth a dime for a phone call when I'd AWOLed my Way Corps commitment for the second time.

John knew all that, plus more, or at least he should. We'd covered a lot of ground almost every week in the past two years.

John probably knows me better than I know myself. I wish I could disappear, or wake up and find out all this isn't true.

Carol, it's not that big of a deal. Just pretend it didn't happen, this stuff with Knapp. This stuff with GreaseSpot. This stuff with The Way. Just forget about all of it.

Disconnection. I've been here before. I can disconnect and make it all go away.

But how could I pretend that 33 of my 51 years of life weren't what they were?

I had uncontrollably cried at times in my counseling sessions with John. I had been disempowered at times, feeling as if I were a child and he the parent. Other times, I'd been empowered; John reassuring me that I could trust myself. One time he stated, "Carol, have you ever thought that you might be right?" regarding some of the harms I and others had experienced at GreaseSpot Cafe.

I excelled at self-blame.

There was one session where something happened that I had never experienced before, at least in front of a therapist...or anyone...at least that I can recall. At the time I thought maybe it was a break through session of some sort; of me getting in touch with the child in me or with a fear I'd possibly experienced as a youngster. A fear that I'd maybe buried. Perhaps the fear I'd felt when my father would get angry.

At the moment, I can't recall what preceded the experience in that counseling session. I may have that information journaled somewhere. But something that happened or that I'd read or something, had triggered a type of abreaction from me.

All my counseling sessions with John were via phone or Skype. John lived in New York and I in North Carolina. This particular session was via phone.

I sat in my bedroom on the king size bed that is covered with the off-white down comforter, the black cordless phone in my hand. I sat afraid and unable to speak coherently, unable to formulate words and express myself. All I felt was fear and that I was small, so very small. I was afraid of my own thoughts. I was afraid of John, not because he was John, but because at that moment, I was afraid of everything. Everything except perhaps animals and young children, two sentient species that I seem to resonate well with.

It seems it was this same session where John got a bit firm with me, like a parent would with a child. I responded accordingly. John's approach was actually helpful in bringing me back to my adult self. It seems this may also have been the session where John stated, "Carol when you begin to self-loathe like you do, it's really not much different than self-cutting or self-harming." That observation too helped me come into my adult self. I have thought of John's words subsequently when I would hear the self-loathing scratch at my heart's door. His words have been helpful.

I think it was my next counseling session, as the adult me and not the little me, that I asked John if I acted differently and talked differently when I'd been the little me in the previous session. He responded in the affirmative.

"About what age did I sound or seem?" I inquired.

"Probably around 10 years old," he answered.

"I wonder if something happened to me when I was around 10 years old? Something I only remember in feeling but not in thought?"

I didn't have anymore counseling sessions where I turned into the little me, at least that I recall.

I think the one time scared me enough.

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To access an ongoing index regarding my experiences with Knapp, click here and scroll down to the section entitled June 26, 2011.
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