I wanted to share some of my session because it follows on from sending the text to Anna. There’s a resistance to blog and a pull to blog. I’m trying to find a balance and satisfy both parts.
I told Mark that in the early days, the waves of grief rose so high over my head it was as if my feet were nailed to the ocean floor. These days the tide is far out and I only get hints of it round my ankles. By sending the text, I unwittingly waded right out into the seas once more. It brought it all to life.
I told Mark it was stupid of me to text her and he told me, ‘It was a reaching out… there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s been a year and anniversaries are significant.’ I told him I should have known better and that maybe I shouldn’t let anyone else in to those places in me. He said, ‘There are no shoulds in our hearts. Shoulds can put barriers in front of letting that emotion flow. Lucy, it was a traumatic loss. Like a velcro ripping apart type of ending. It makes sense to me that as you begin to open more and more, like you did when you let Anna in, because of that being ripped apart, you both yearn for something and fear it. It makes sense you’d fear losing me too.’ It all felt too much and I said, ‘I feel like I want to layer lots of cushions on top of me.’ Mark said, ‘You can do that, feel the cushions. Follow that impulse. Let’s give yourself as much of what you need as we can to feel a little bit more secure. So, you’re holding that to your chest, feel into it. I imagine it feels quite nice, I fancy doing it myself only I don’t have a cushion with me.’
I told him I hate how needy I am and he said, ‘I feel really tender towards you. This is very painful, these are very raw, vulnerable, young places. It’s huge.’ I started to feel spacey and he spotted it and very gently said, ‘I wonder, can you safely connect with yourself and connect with me?’ There was silence and I looked at him over my cushion and he continued tentatively, ‘I’m imagining that your pain is a boat somewhere in the high seas sloshing around and I’ve kind of got the rope. And you can give a little tug to me, on the rope, if you want to feel me here. We’re both with the boat that’s full of pain. And as I visualise the boat in my mind, there’s no one in it, interestingly, but there’s pain. I can feel it too.’