We were talking about parts, and we get onto the topic of the teenager part, who has not talked to Ron ever, and barely to me really. But last week she wrote him an email and I sent it Friday morning. Ron hadn’t seen it, so he asked me to tell him about it. At first I am reluctant. This is a very gloomy part and she talks about suicide. She doesn’t threaten it, just wonders what being dead is like. Which is disturbing. So then I feel all calm, and switch into her I suppose. She talks in almost a whisper.
E. So I lived in suburb ville. I remember my room. It is blue. Everything seems black. I just want to sleep all the time and never come out of my room. I feel like dying.
R. So you feet sad?
E. There is no one to talk to and I was by myself. And my father doesn’t talk to me. I remember biking around.
Sit in silence. I’m remembering bits of my life then – biking through a square in the middle of the town, going down to the lake, my friends who had these small dogs we walked….
R. (soft voice) Where did you go?
E. I’m just remembering stuff about suburb ville.
R. Tell me
E. Oh just details. My friends have these dogs we walk. My mother used to bake cookies – she made these Dream Bars. I bike through the square and there are all these chestnuts, in green pods, and sometimes they burst, and brown chestnuts are inside….
I sit, and I’m overwhelmed with feeling awful. Is it sadness? It’s some huge feeling….I don’t cry. I rub my eyes and take off my glasses. I’ve been shredding kleenex and continue to do that.
E. I feel awful.
R. What kind of awful.
E. I don’t know. I feel sad……Nothing seemed real.
R. What didn’t seem real?
So we sit there. I can’t remember anything so terrible happening. But I feel like I might be dying.
Ron is so stern in this session. Have I mentioned that? He can be very stern and remote for someone a few years younger than I am.
E. (switching out) So what do you think is happening…why do I have these parts?
R. Everyone is different – some people get that.
Or he says something vague like this. He obviously doesn’t want to talk about this. In any case, we are out of time.
Our time is up, but we started a few minutes late. So the kid starts talking.
E. So I didn’t get to talk and I like to talk to you because you are nice.
R. Hi. I know you’re there you know, even if you don’t say anything. I think I heard you talk about the chestnuts. (smiles a little – at last he is not remote)
E. So I like to talk…but I don’t know what to talk about. I didn’t get to use the blanket.. (stroking it). Don’t your clients like the blanket? (It’s rolled neatly and tucked inside the couch arm.)
R. Some do….
E. We’re going to buy ice cream because we’re out. There’s a new flavour – toffee crunch. Do you know that one? Usually I like chocolate, but this one is good.
R. Uh huh.
The session is over. I say good bye. Ron says take care.
Now I’ve come down from my anxiety after therapy. I can’t really function. I just want to lie down and stare out the window. At least there are no body memories. It’s as if I’m mourning something without knowing what it is.