On getting started
One of the most common sentiments I hear at the beginning of therapy is: “It took me forever to finally reach out,” or, “My partner thought it was a bad idea so…,” or, “I almost did, but then chickened out.” And what I always say is that expansion and contraction are a natural human experience. Expansion here is-I am ready for change/I want to change/I am seeking out change. The contractive response that follows-I am actually doing fine/I don’t need to change/this is fine. Generally speaking, for humans to engage in expansive change, we have to be truly done with our way of being, like exhausted the ever loving hell out of it. Until then, we will repeat the same patterns, get stuck in the same relationships, almost quit the job every Friday, the list goes on.
After a few initial sessions it is not uncommon for people to drop out of therapy. There are many reasons this happens. Some common ones include that the deeper work has presented itself and it has overwhelmed the system, or conversely, a clear way forward has been discovered. Both point decisively to change. Again, human brains are not super keen on change. If we think of babies and toddlers and the massive brain changes they undergo, marked by sleep regressions, clinginess, sharp and inexplicable mood changes, and feelings for days-we can see what the burden of change can bring. And these are beautiful, malleable, plastic brains, not the rigid models that set in with age and experience.
One of the first topics I bring up in therapy is asking how a client experiences their learning curve. This question often fascinates people, and after some reflection, most report, ‘I hate my learning curve!’ It can be physically uncomfortable to change; to turn the dial on an ingrained habit, a common trigger, an over-reaction. It is easier to say ‘Well that’s just who I am.’ And in many ways, this can feel true, especially if trauma is involved. The reaction is often there to protect your system from feeling the deeper historical experience. If we grew up in a home rife with screaming matches, shutting down and dissociating was an effective course of action that kept us from absorbing too much, remembering too much, and helped to bury the feelings of fear. The problem now is that, if we continue to rely on that reaction, then every time someone shouts and we shut down, it continues to breathe life into the trauma, reaffirming to our system that those dark times are still happening.
So how to work with this in therapy? In session, I am upfront that healing work is often destabilizing, and things can feel like they are getting worse before they get better; the cracks in the foundation have been discovered and now the mending process has begun. As a therapist, I work with great intention to keep things moving at a pace that you can emotionally metabolize. This is to say, while there may be a little downtime after a session, can you continue to live your life? Or are you immobolized for days after a session? In rare circumstances that may happen, but personally, I feel that experience should be avoided and has indicated that the work was done too rapidly. I am not a quick fix therapist and hold to the principle that enduring healing takes time. Because of this, I start peripherally so that our systems can acclimatize to one another. I don’t jump into a deep trauma history. I get a pulse on your support system. I ask how to best meet you when you’ve been activated, and if you don’t know, we look at that together. Essentially, we are sketching out a map, and then at a pace that feels safe, we begin exploring it together. Some sessions will feel much bigger than others but truly, it is showing up week after week where the foundational change occurs. This repetition is a gentle and effective way to build safety in you and in your therapeutic process, and to create space for your system to begin clearing its historical backlog. Almost predictably, when someone who attends regularly enters a session with not much to talk about, we end up in a part of the map that had been previously uncharted.
I hope this has been a helpful look into the often lurching experience some people have when contemplating starting their healing journey, and also a glimpse into how I inhabit the therapeutic space. If you have any questions, please feel very welcome to reach out through info@kimikomurakami.com or via the form on my contact page.
