agitated and breathing rapidly as fear courses through his body. I tell him to just allow the trembling and his rapid breathing and to notice what else is happening in his body as he feels himself solidly in contact with the couch against which he is leaning and the floor on which his feet are resting. He moves slightly to feel the couch and the floor under his feet. I suggest he notice what is happening in his arms and he says they are tingling, especially his fingers. I assure him that this is a natural discharge of the autonomic nervous system’s blocked orienting response to danger, which could not be called upon. As the trembling begins to subside, he mentions that he scared himself by saying such a thing to his father. But, then it becomes more complex. Adam continues…. “At that dad became enraged and slapped me very hard in the face, probably with his left hand because I remember holding the right side of my face afterwards.” Adam puts his hand up to the right side of his cheek and his legs begin to shake harder than before, seemingly uncontrollably. He’s shocked by the strength of the movement in his legs, but I again encourage him to stay in the moment. ”It’s your desire to flee,” I suggest. “You couldn’t then. It’s all right. You need to let your legs run the energy out now. It’s okay.” I invite him to imagine himself running and he sees himself running up and then down the ski slope to the room of his old nanny, Mary. As his legs make more purposeful running movements, they at first increase in strength and then subside. “Tell me what happened next.” Adam’s legs slowly come to rest as he speaks. “I was stunned and hurt, more by his anger than the pain. I certainly knew I was provoking him but it never occurred to me to run before he could hit me, or to fight back. Maybe it all happened too quickly, or more likely I became immobilized out of fear. All I can remember is my face stinging as the sound of the slap reverberated, looking at dad with hurt and astonishment, then running to my bedroom. I locked the door and began to sob. I had never felt such profound hurt in my life. I had been certain Dad didn’t love me and now it was proven. Dad came to the door and asked if I would let him in. Eventually I did and he apologized, but I remained turned away from him and wouldn’t speak. I wanted to teach him a lesson he’d never forget: that if you fail and wound someone, you cannot count on their forgiveness. “ J: As you imagine yourself there in your bedroom with your father, what do you feel in your body? Adam: Nothing. I am numb, frozen, cold, unfeeling… At this point Adam begins to sob. He reaches for my hand with one of his hands and covers the right side of his face again with the other. His shoulders shake as he cries and then they gradually relax and he releases my hand and brings his other hand down from his face. We both sit for a few moments, just letting his experience wash over us. I contemplate just letting the session end here, but counting on his resilience, I ask him if he would like to take a step further. He sits up a little straighter, and with interest reflecting in his eyes, says, “Sure.” “Can you go back there now? Would you go back there and talk to him?” Adam takes a deep breath. “What is it you might want to say to him?” I ask carefully. “I’m not sure I can talk to him,” Adam replies, so I make a suggestion. “Try talking to someone else, someone you trust who would comfort you. Who would that be?” “My friend, David. He’s warm and direct, a great father. I wish I’d had a father like him.” “Then talk to David. Tell him how you feel and what you need.” Adam imagines David sitting opposite his 12 year-old self, allowing him to reach out and touch his hair and then hold and comfort him. It morphs smoothly into being held by his father. He mentioned later in the session that the feeling of being held was “palpable.” As soon as he is able to speak, he is able to do so directly to his father, often sobbing between sentences. “I need you to recognize who I am….to love and support me; hold me. Can’t you see how sad and frightened I am, how shy? I get teased at school and you’re not there to help me (He had inherited a genetic anomaly of overly large ears from his father, which were operated on only much later and very traumatically). Nothing I do ever gets your approval. I’m so lonely, Dad. I need you so badly. Please hold me and tell me that you love me.” He is sobbing deeply again, but with less tension. I encourage him to imagine his father reaching out and touching him. Adam is able to describe his dad stroking his hair, embracing him with love, apologizing with all his heart. Adam is able to return the love. After he has stopped sobbing Adam reminisces that when his dad was dying in 2004, they never talked about Adam’s childhood misery, and Adam never asked for an apology, but one was made obliquely to a nephew who energy & character vol.37 may 2009 33
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