“Perhaps all your efforts to hide your vulnerability behind an aggressively capable façade are so convincing that people imagine you don’t need help”by Anna Blundy / July 17, 2014 / Leave a comment
Published in August 2014 issue of Prospect Magazine
Sitting with my legs crossed (back pain is a major problem for therapists), I listened to a patient tell me she’d failed to be perfect—again. She said something stupid at a party, hadn’t phoned her mum, got caught crying by her son. “You seem to have an idealised perfect woman in your head. Someone who glides effortlessly through life, saying the right things, behaving in a morally exemplary way, displaying no emotion. Then, every
time you compare yourself to her, inevitably unfavourably, you hate yourself,” I said. “It must be exhausting.” My patient laughed. “It is!” she agreed. “And I suppose nobody could really be like that?” she sighed, thoughtful.
So, all very sage and wise on my part, but what I didn’t say was: “I know how exhausting that is. I’ve been doing it for 44 years myself.” I hear people who know me shouting, “You could have fooled me!” Well, I’m not saying I succeeded. I’m saying I tried. This is one of the fascinating things about seeing patients as a psychotherapist, particularly as a trainee: while trying to understand someone else’s mind, I find so much that is familiar, and in having to be articulate about it, I end up learning about myself as well.
This week a very stuck patient, someone who behaves like a baffled and slightly cross five year old, told me that when he was little
and went round to friends’ houses after school, he always felt completely different from them. He was amazed by the apparently jolly family atmosphere, the regular children’s tea time, the available parents. “I always felt sort of monstrous and ugly,” he said (he isn’t). He looked at me almost pleadingly, certain that I wouldn’t understand. I hope he could see that I did. “Me too,” I didn’t quite say.