My First Breakthrough - Life Begins Here

One may attend Therapy to overcome a crippling Mental disorder or simply to improve an emotionally empty life.

In the same way that you have your car serviced and tuned even though it is running quite happily, or occasionally have a physical check-up when in good health (before starting a new job or to get an overseas visa) many people will give their minds the "once over". "Just to be sure!"

Others who are outwardly stable can feel their mental engine is 'running rough'. They sense they are not enjoying life as much as their friends and family. Just like the Vulcans: Spock and Tuvark  (re: Star Trek) they hold their emotional life under rigid control - and may be unable to let go and be more 'Human'.

I was one such creature despite having a relatively successful career which allowed me to work first in my home country: Great Britain, later in the more 'laid back' world Down Under: Australia, and finally in this New World: America. Clearly from my origins in a grossly dysfunctional family - I had "survived" and was able to live an interesting but emotionally dead life for more than fifty years.

Socially I had been quite active, but was unable to achieve a lasting, long term relationship. This was the reason that led me to attended the Primal Institute in Los Angeles.

The following story documents my FIRST REAL BREAKTHROUGH.

It was the beginning of my entry into an emotional life. A life that had hitherto been so elusive. It breached the first, and major, mental barrier that had protected me during childhood but which nowadays was counterproductive. Slowly, following the domino effect principal, other mental blocks are beginning to collapse.

Following a three-week intensive at the start of therapy there was a long delay, due to unemployment, before I could become a regular at the Primal Institute Group Sessions. Finally after receiving my Green Card I was able to secure employment within commuting distance of L.A.

For five months I have been attending the Friday Large-Group and more recently Mark’s Small Group on alternate Wednesdays. Although I began to recall and re-feel some minor early childhood events I was unable to get truly into any emotions at group. The greater ‘success’ seemed to occur at home, usually at night, when rage at my alcoholic mother frequently surfaced.

My face would become so contorted and strained that I hoped a connection was beginning to form. But despite many attempts to put the anger into words it proved impossible to ‘sink’ into the feeling and shout back at my mother.
One Wednesday I had ‘planned’ to bring up this issue at Small Group. However fate intervened. While I waiting for an opportunity to break into the session an emotional stalemate occurred between two other patients. Their interaction physically agitated me and without thinking I interrupted to comment about it.
I told Mark how I was feeling and began to elaborate without really thinking about what I was saying. I felt responsible for the other patients’ dilemma despite every logic cell in my brain saying otherwise. But worse still I felt that I was required to do something about it even though my social skills are far too underdeveloped to offer even a weak solution.

I knew I could neither do nor say anything that would be of use. Yet I felt immense pressure to solve the conflict. I felt it was demanded of me. It was an impossible situation. I was totally inadequate for the HR problem; I felt compelled to do something about it - yet knew I lacked the skills.
Eventually I mumbled:
      ‘I can’t do anything!’
      ‘I don’t know what to do!’
      ’It’s beyond me!’

For the first time I started to skip into the vastness of frustration. Closing my eyes seemed to help and allowed me to stay with the feeling for a long, long time. Although physical Pain was showing on my face I was still feeling only the frustration. The feeling did not ‘match’ my facial contortions. I could sense my mother in her usual ‘panic mode’ running off at the mouth. She was screaming so many demands in such rapid fire that I couldn’t take it in all at once. I was in auditory overload. I guess I must have been talking to the group as someone to the right of me suggested, ‘Tell her to Shut Up!’
Pathetically I pleaded at Mum, ‘For God’s sake: shut up.’ Then snapped out under my breath:
     ‘JUST STOP! I can’t do anything… I don’t know what to do…’
I felt completely helpless.

The feeling stayed around for a lot longer but I couldn’t get any further into it. Later that night after returning home sleep refused to claim me. For more than an hour I ruminated over the evening session and began to recall how mum responded to every stress situation with panic. In pure agitation she would demand I do something about it. But she would either demand impossible action from me, threaten me with exaggerated claims of the inevitable consequences, or give absolutely no advice but demand I acted immediately. This time I was able to flow with the feeling – a mixture of frustration, helplessness, and anger at her total incompetence. I heard myself shouting.
      ‘If you want to panic – go ahead.’
      ’But I don’t have to.’
      ’It’s your bloody panic NOT MINE!’
      ’Just leave me alone!’
      ’You’re the ‘sodding’ grown-up. NOT ME!’
      ’You’re supposed to look after me.’
      ’Just - BACK OFF - damn you!’
      ’Just - LEAVE ME ALONE!’

The language was probably a bit more colorful and derogatory that that. But the above more or less is the essence of what I was screaming.
I remember feeling very relaxed and content after shouting and must have dropped off to sleep soon after.

At work my contract was due to end that Friday. I had known all week that I needed to speak to Dale, a senior manager, regarding possible work in other departments. But as usual each time I tried to summon up the courage to approach him, (when he wasn’t expecting me) I froze out. I was incapable of walking up to his office. Each day earlier that week, Monday, Tuesday & Wednesday, I had tried and failed to take this essential action. When my co-worker: Mr. V. kept informing me of possible openings and encouraging me to approach Dale the resulting fear was overwhelming.
On Wednesday evening - I attended Mark’s Small Group.
Then Thursday morning arrived. As soon as Mr. V. arrived he immediately informed me of a project that needed a replacement contractor.
I paused, awaiting the inevitable surge of fear: fear that would leave me paralyzed and incapable.

I waited - - and waited - - and waited ? - - AND WAITED ??? Where was it,
      where was the fear ?
      where was the crippling anxiety ?
      where was the panic ?
      where was the Pain ?

A few minuets later I was at Dale’s office door. He was not in.
Normally that would have given me great relief. But there was none, none because I wasn’t Trembling in Fear. Twenty minuets later I was back at the office speaking with the manager in an extraordinarily relaxed fashion. It must have worked. A few hours later he phoned me at home to offer another month’s work.
The new work involves cold approaches to both End-Users and Technical staff. This is work I’ve historically

‘avoided like the plague’       because of the intense stress it caused.