I’ve needed to make a phone call to Cec since Tuesday night.  I’ve struggled with the idea of doing so as well as what to say, and since we were requesting a phone call back this time, I’ve been trying to determine exactly what the need was.  The result was that it’s been going on and on in my head ever since Tuesday and today was the last day to make that phone call before she was out of the office for a week.  So we woke up and went online for a little bit, but the nagging need to make that phone call was there.  I got up and went to the couch but we ended up curling up while I/we sorted through and prepared for this phone call–basically to get the gumption up to make it and to sound somewhat intelligible.  But it clearly was something that was going to take awhile longer than a few minutes and so I went to bed to lay down and try to sort through stuff and prepare to make the phone call.  The end result of that is that I was in bed all day, sometimes awake thinking and preparing for it, other times asleep.  Argggh is all I can say at the moment about it.  It sounds so incredibly stupid when writing it.  I don’t even feel like I’ve really expressed why it was so hard and what was so involved in it.

I have only a sliver of recall of therapy on Tuesday (as it has been lately), and it is primarily a few knowledge pieces of information versus actual recall.  Shanree showed up and spoke with her.  A distraught and angry child showed up and told her about some abuse by the neighbor boy.  I did hear through L.J. that Cec asked who it was that was there– and I know that this is probably the first time Cec has done so.  She normally just rolls with the switches.  I know the girl didn’t tell her name, but L.J. heard the name stated in the thoughts or from someone else inside who answered Cec’s question and I heard through L.J., but I also think I had been pulled closer for that one brief moment and then flung back deeper inside.  So I know the name and I thought I was going to post it here, but apparently I can’t just yet.  I think it is the shame of the name even though the actual name to anyone wouldn’t appear shameful, but it is the knowledge about the name that we know about that brings about such shame and also a very strong secret keeping need.

Oh yah and another child was really triggered in the beginning of the therapy and this child spoke the strange language that some inside speak.  And I only know of this and I saw that there were hand movements by this child, but that is it.  I mean I couldn’t describe them to you, just that the body’s hands moved.  I have no idea what was said or what it sounded like other than I know it was the ones who speak their own language.  I can only imagine what that was like for Cec to witness this.  I think it was maybe the first time that one of them came out-front and spoke aloud and communicated.  (I know we have shared some examples of their language with Cec, but to my knowledge, they haven’t come out-front and communicated in Cec’s presence or to Cec).  I think at first the communication was in general (as if to themselves or to the trigger) but then to Cec since Cec knew exactly what triggered this child and Cec was providing some kind of reassurance and information of the present? (i think) and also making a comment that she didn’t understand what this child was saying and not sure if this child understood her (Cec’s) language, but she hoped so.  Something like that.  As I write this, I don’t hear anything as if I was recalling it from a memory.  It’s just a knowledge based link to information that is generic.  And it ends there, both the extent of knowledge and the extent of information.

So all in all, I think we had a really intense therapy session.  I’m guessing so at least.  We were in a different room than usual for therapy and Cec was engrossed with what was going on and lost track of time and so when the hour was up, there was this knock at the door.  The next therapist (and client?) were needing the room.  We had a huge startle response and basically therapy ended abruptly and Cec was reassuring us that it was fine and not our fault (even though I don’t think L.J. had said anything about this)… I think Cec must have been observing our behavior and picking up our anxiety or something.  By then I was near L.J. a bit more, but still away and trying to come to the front, but struggling to do so.  Cec was trying to help us ground ourselves and L.J. said she was trying and so Cec suggested we sit in the waiting room until we had done so.  And it did take some time before things had settled enough inside (though not really and truly) and before I could get close enough to the front to be out or at least around the front.

I was reading through what I/we had written and I was remembering that as we were gathering our stuff (journal and Emmie) and putting them into our backpack, that we had intense anxiety about having gone over time and that there were people waiting to get into the room and stuff.  So we had this greater need to check to make sure we didn’t leave anything and that nothing was on the floor.  The OCD was magnified in its persistence and stuff.  We must have been doing it long enough or to some extent of constant checking and staring that Cec did say that we didn’t leave anything, etc.  So this is important for me to track and write about because I’ve been noticing this more and more lately– that the greater the internal anxiety about our environment or something inside, the greater the OCD manifests itself in unmanageable and crazy-looking ways.

Julie/s