R (Part 2)
Repression, Resilience, Rupture/Repair
Repression
When we repress something, we unconsciously ‘forget’ it in order to protect ourselves. But while it may appear forgotten from our minds, it’s not forgotten by our bodies or instincts and so it will likely express itself in other ways: humour, passive-aggression, unexplained attitudes and discomforts, somatic illnesses and much else.
As Freud pointed out in his essay on the subject in 1915 “some sort of process… changes the pleasure of satisfaction into pain”. In so-doing, an impulse we have is resisted and sent underground. We repress it.
In therapy, curiosity about what we have repressed and why is often a key ingredient. With the right relationship, safety and pace, repressed feelings can be encouraged to present themselves undisguised and, maybe, the emotional pain that the repression has caused can begin to be cured.
Resilience
Most clients most of the time have a proven track record of resilience. Whatever’s brought them into the room, they survived it. The price of so-doing may have been steep or long-lasting but they did it. And not only have they survived it but they’re now able to take themselves to therapy once a week to process it and ultimately make it less of a shadow over their life. That’s resilience.
Resilience is what people often feel they don’t have but manifestly do. Times are tough but they can get themselves out of bed to get to work, or they can come to therapy, or they can pay their bills. Often what they’re discussing is early stuff: if they could survive it aged 7 or 12, then they can survive talking about it at 25 or 38.
Resilience contains the hope which facilitates the change.
Rupture & Repair
As with any intimate relationship, the therapeutic dyad is ripe for instances of rupture: moments in which tension, anger, dispute, discomfort or let-down enter the experience. How could they not?
Arielle Schwartz, the deeply-brilliant clinical psychologist and author, suggests that there are three stages of repair: first recognising the rupture is happening, then the client and therapist re-attuning to each other; and finally staying engaged until that reconnection is achieved. This may take a couple of moments, or may sometimes take several weeks or months.
Ruptures can occur when a therapist misunderstands something the client has said and the client feels unheard or disrespected. Or when a client is three minutes late and feels braced for the therapist telling them off so can’t engage in the session. Or when a therapist has said something which has triggered an all-too-familiar but deeply unwelcome emotional response in the client. Or when a topic has been explored which the client finds intimidating or shaming, and they can’t look their therapist in the eye the next week.
I love ruptures. They’re often confusing or horrible or awkward or challenging but, later, they’re almost always incredibly valuable. That’s the bit I love. When me and the client can work out what just happened, and what it felt like, and why it affected us so much, and what we can do to make our interactions safe again, we always discover something deep about how they interact with the world which would not have otherwise been available.
Some therapists will deliberately provoke a client (try and make them angry, say) in order to gain access to this material via a rupture. I wouldn’t do that; it feels manipulative. But nor do I avoid things which have the potential to cause difficulty: to me that would be equally unhelpful.
Don’t be afraid of telling your therapist when you’re upset by them. They can take it (or certainly should). And it may help.
Next Week: S (Part 1)
Safety, Secure Base, Self-Harm, Sex