Thursday was EMDR day and guess what? I didn’t even mention to Nate that the very next morning I would be climbing on to that big machine-table to have my “teat” nicked open and samples of the mircocalcifications sucked out for lab testing. Will the results ALTER my world with either relief or with a churning sea of emotions?
So, here I am, sitting for the second time on the big brown oaf in Nate’s bi-polar office, with all this tension going on inside me, and we’re simply chatting. I’m assuming this protocol, like all others I’ve experienced in years of counseling, is to help me grow more comfortable and safe with Nate as my EMDR therapist. I’ve always secured female therapists in the past, so gaining comfort with a male therapist (especially him having read my book) was likely not lost on him. Made even more clear to me in those first thirty minutes of the sixty-minute session was that Nate had, indeed, read my book and, like me, is a believer in God and trinity (Father, Son, and Spirit). He shared that he had been raised in Christian faith. I was glad to know he wasn’t atheist or agnostic, simply because I would then have found myself more tentative in how I’d share my past traumas, and wondering more about what he might be thinking. Whew.
Into the last thirty minutes we began to build my “safe place.” First I had to decide what it looked like and if it would be an earthly place or otherworldly place—the whole point being that I would feel completely safe. Since no place on earth that I could image would feel safe, I pulled out one of my favorite earthly things: clouds. Big, fat, fluffy, stark white clouds like Charmin imitates.
I declared that my imaginative cloud, which one cannot fall through, to be “my safe place.” Then Nate directed me through each of my other senses to further build this home: what does it feel like? smell like? sound like?
In the end, I was surprised that I did indeed feel safe(r) in this imaginary place of my construction. The furniture too is made of puffy white clouds; the light is streaks of sunlight with deep, sky-blue hues; my safe place smells of lavender.
This is where Session 2 ended, and a cluster of storm clouds began . . . .
Wisteria Cove, North Atlantic