Therapy Session With Martin

 

Todays therapy session with Martin was focused on my inner child - Little Mike, who by all accounts is a very pleasant chap, very amenable, well behaved, a bit quiet maybe, very shy, pretty lonely but enjoying his own company. Mixed with some desperation and a fair degree of isolation and anger.

In the session we went in a time machine, back to 4 year old me, living at a foster home, where I had mentioned being quite sad (devastated) at leaving, not least of all because of a US army jeep pedal car they had, that I had taken temporary ownership of.

After it had finished, I wrote these words:

Hug.

Ω hugged me.

Rare event.

No one's fault. Little Mike couldn't be held and Big Mike is the same, I tend to put myself in a position where I'm not eligible to need to be taken into consideration for a hug. It's safer that way, no expectation or disappointment.

Martin said to bring the car and Little Mike back with me, weirdly, my main concern with the pedal car was 'where was I going to put it? It won't fit in the time machine and there's nowhere to put it when we get here'.

I was left feeling hollow and a bit angry, this is the place where I hate everyone and everything.
Everything.
Whats the point?

My last words of the meeting were Little Mike can't be held, what a statement, what a realisation. I often feel I like the idea of being at the back of one of the psychiatric wards Martin had mentioned, that given our backgrounds, he could see Ω and myself in such a place.
I joked that they no longer existed.

It brought to mind talking to a Broadmoor patient (I worked there for a few years) telling me the sense of relief he felt when he was sectioned, he was finally allowed to be himself, I was very happy for him and the place he found himself in, not necessarily in Broadmoor, but you get my meaning.