What my patients don't know
| 30, Jan, 19
What my patients don't know is that the first time I sat in the patient's chair, I was speechless. I felt that everything I said was going to be "used against me," so my first words were "I don't know how to be a patient." This statement would later mean many things, including, of course, that I didn't know how to express my inner world, my perception of things, to another person.
My psychologist, who was also my professor and director of the place where I studied, with a kind smile told me, "you start wherever you want, and I'll take care of the rest"; then I understood that in this role he was no longer my professor and I was not going to be graded.
In the first sessions, I struggled with the feeling of being academically evaluated and with the need to be perfectly clear with my emotions, my reflections, and my ability to connect everything with the theory. As I write this, I realize that clearly that need to excel was completely linked to my reason for seeking therapy.
The reason for seeking therapy is the set of reasons why one considers they should start a psychological process, the motivation to initiate it. In my case, the reason was; "if you don't do individual therapy, you can't continue your training with us." Basically, I had been avoiding one-on-one therapeutic contact from my perspective because I felt that group processes were sufficient.
But one thing is to consider something "sufficient" and another is to be "avoiding"; undoubtedly, I was avoiding confronting my baggage. And that was the beginning of my process, where I fell apart and rebuilt myself in a more genuine way, where I understood that it was okay, that I was okay including my experiences, my emotions, and my desires. For me, the challenge was always finding someone to trust, and not only that, but also someone who would help me take the step that was difficult for me.
What I wanted my patients to know is that I also know what it feels like to sit on the other side, I know what it feels like to be listened to with love and respect, that part of my process had to do with discovering myself as a therapist and what I want to transmit.
Also, I would like my patients to know that with their smiles they heal my soul, that there are moments where I feel like I "must save them" from their wonderful minds, but it's when they regain that responsibility that is their own, that I see them reconnect with who they are.
I would add that to most, when I feel the trust, I call them "Queridx" because I want them to remember that they are. That wisdom overflows from their pores. That I admire their courage for putting painful issues on the table and that I am honored by their trust.