Group was interesting this week. Interesting for me anyway. Because basically half the group is reluctant to ‘work’ or talk, that leaves a lot of room for me to do so. Sometimes it seems group is all about moi. However.
After waiting a decent interval through the silence of the start of group, I started talking about a woman at work with whom I’m having issues. Which led to talking about my recent non encounter with my sister and how I felt about that. Which led to my talking about my family in general, plus the dreaded Christmas family event.
A lot of the group can relate to difficult families – in fact, all of it can, so everyone had some stuff to say about either their own families, or what they thought about mine. It was interesting.
Then somehow or other, I fell into this kind of vision. It’s hard to explain. I know it’s not real, but it seems very real to me while I’m going through it. I explain it to the group as it’s happening.
I feel as if I’m by the Arctic Ocean, surrounded by ice floes. There is a huge ocean liner near by. I feel entirely alone, very very cold, and in danger of going under in the icy waters. I’m not panicked, exactly, but more chilled to the bone, completely isolated, and feeling it is impossible to ever communicate with anyone ever again.
I have switched into kid mode, so I’m mostly feeling and talking in very short sentences.
The group just kind of watches…..
E says something emotional about her young kids….I don’t really follow her feedback, but the fact that she’s trying to relate touches me, and I cry. The story involves food her kid likes to eat, so of course the kid starts to list what she likes to eat also.
Y shyly offers that all the foods the kid listed are also his favorites. And that he’d like to come and rescue me from the ice floes.
Ron asks if someone could move closer to me, so I don’t feel so alone. Could someone rescue me from the ice? I shake my head, no, no one can get me, I am alone…and I cry some more.
Ron says he is looking for me, out in the ice.
I don’t respond at the time, but I appreciated that comment.
Overall I feel really warmed by the group’s sympathy and non-judgment. And I switched and it was OK, Y even kind of met me there.
Ron asks me if I wanted to explain what had happened (switching), or if I’d like him to, and I say no. I was overwhelmed by emotion, and saying no to everything seemed safest to me.
I go home and feel grief, but also a softness about the group, that they were sympathetic, that they were kind. I don’t expect that.