Evelyn's Lesson In Recovery

The Past Has To Be Explored

THREE DAYS LATER

I sit in the bathroom, clutching my blade.  I clench my fist and draw the blade across.  I stop when I've made fifteen sort-of deep cuts in my right arm.  I put the blade away and wash the cuts.  I quickly bandage them before going to the hallway near the front door.  "Time to go; have you taken your medicine?" Suzanne asks.  I shake my head.  "Go take your medicine!" she demands.  I go to the kitchen and take my medicine like she said.  "Did you take it?" she asks as we walk out to the car.  I nod.  "How has therapy been going?" she asks.  I shrug and put my earbuds in to drown her out.  

The familiar drive seems to go by exceedingly fast.  "I'll be back in an hour." Suzanne says before I get out.  I nod and go in.  I'm about five minutes late.  I sign in and sit down.  I only get to sit down for about three minutes before Harper steps into the waiting room and calls my name.  I roll my eyes as I walk over to her.  

Once in her office, I sit down and cross my arms.  She sits beside me, causing me to get up and move away from her.  "Evelyn, what's wrong?" she asks.  "Nothing." I reply.  "I thought you didn't like sitting across from each other because it makes you feel intimidated and uncomfortable." Harper says.  I ignore her.  I don't feel like talking today.  "Evelyn, let's talk about your self harm." she says a few minutes later.  "What about it?" I ask.

"How often did you do it this week?" she asks.  "I got released on a Friday, was here for the first time on Monday, now it's thursday." I say.  "How often have you done if from Friday to today?" she asks.  "Five times." I say.  "Okay.....were you able to stay in our set limit?" she asks.  I nod.  "Well, can you explain what you got from it?" she asks.  I don't answer.

"You seem to be a little resistant today." Harper notes.  I shake my head.  "You're disagreeing with almost everything I say." she says.  "No, I'm not." I reply, becoming frustrated.  Harper sighs.  "Control and relief, Harper, you already know this!" I exclaim.  "Why is control important to you?" she asks.  "Is that important, Harper; I mean really?!" I demand.  "You are absolutely right; this isn't important." she says.  "I don't know what I, a trained, licensed psychologist with several degrees and even more years of experience behind me, was thinking asking an obvious question about something that needs to be figured out." she sarcastically says.  "I agree." I say with a smile.

"Hey, that's not funny." she says.  "Yes, it is." I say, laughing sarcastically.  "Anyway, why is control important to you?" Harper asks, clicking her pen.  "You're not going to let me avoid this, are you?" I ask.  She shakes her head.  I move and sit beside her, done arguing and fighting with her; it won't help.  "Control is important because I've never had control." I admit.  "What do you mean?" she asks.  I try to keep myself from crying.  "My childhood has been molestation, self harm, social anxiety, panic attacks, and abuse.  I've never had control over what has happened to myself and by hurting myself, I control what I feel and when I feel." I explain.  

A tear hits my cheek.  Harper puts a box of tissues in front of me.  I take one and wipe the tear away quickly.  "Do you think the lack of control in your childhood is what set this all up to occur again?" she asks.  "I don't know, but I always feel so out of control and the only way I can regain control is through controlling what I feel and when I feel it." I reply.  "This is common among sexual trauma and physical abuse survivors.  Do you feel that is what triggered your need for control?" she says.  I nod.

I stare across the room and detach myself from what is happening, to prevent a flashback.  "Evelyn?" Harper says, tapping my shoulder.  "Huh?" I say, coming back to reality.  "Did you just dissociate from the situation?" she asks.  "I think so." I say.  "What do you remember us talking about before your dissociation?" she asks.  "My sexual trauma and physical abuse triggered the need for control." I say.  "Okay, let's pick back up there.  Why is talking about the need for control from those events uncomfortable or scary?"  "I felt like I was going to have a flashback." I tell her.

"Okay, so talking about it is enough to trigger a flashback?" she asks.  I nod.  "Let's keep talking about it then." Harper says.  I shake my head.  "It might trigger a flashback; it might not.  It will be upsetting and hard to talk about, but we need to figure out the roots of it and how deep the trauma is." she explains, putting her hand on my arm in a comforting manner.  I sigh and agree with her.

"How were you taken out of control when you were molested?" she asks.  I flinch when she says the word 'molested'.  I close my eyes and try to fight away the memories that still haunt me eight years later.  "Don't fight the memories." Harper says.  I start crying.  "I wasn't given a choice.  He manipulated me and hurt me and then he told me it was my fault.  I was out of my control and into his.  My life after that revolved around keeping him happy and keeping him from d-doing it again.  Anytime he would get mad.....he would make me go to my room and take all of my clothes off." I explain, almost hysterically crying.  Harper is looking at me, listening intently.  

"Go on." she says.  I wipe my tears and try to take a deep breath.  "Then, he would come in.......and touch me......a-and p-put his f-finger in places f-fingers d-don't belong." I cry.  I can't talk anymore.  Harper looks troubled.  I feel my breathing constrict and a flashback begins.  "Evelyn?" Harper says.  "Get away from me!" I scream.  "It's okay, honey.  It's a flashback; describe where you are." she reassures me.  I rock, clawing at my arms anxiously.  

"Describe where you are." she firmly says, putting her arm around me.  I pull away and scream "don't touch me!"  "Do what I said." she says.  I force myself to look around.  I start listing off things I notice.  The flashback goes away and I am left with anxiety.  "Better?" Harper gently asks.  "I'm still really anxious." I say.  "Talking about this is going to help you overcome the obstacles set in your path.  We'll pick up where we left off on Monday." she says.  I nod, feeling emotionally exhausted.  "Remember, after today, only ten cuts when you self harm.  Speaking of which, I need to check your arms." she says.  I sigh, pulling up my sleeves.  She undoes the bandages and looks at the cuts.  "Okay, I see you've been staying within the goal set.  You're doing good.  When did you last cut?" she asks.  "This morning." I admit as I rewrap the cuts.  "Okay, new rule:  do not cut the morning of therapy." Harper says.  I groan, but agree in the end.  

"Bye." I say.  "Bye, dear." she says.  I leave, still emotionally exhausted and overwhelmed.  Suzanne is waiting patiently.  We leave and as soon as I get home, I crawl into bed and cry.  I hated remembering all of that and I know, in a few days, I'll have to do it all over again.