it to say here that the experience that is relived in the here and now of the therapy session is relived as if it were happening in the present. Consequently, every intervention we make in the here and now of the therapy session is experienced in the time at which the trauma occurred and cancels it out, as if it had never happened. We encounter the trauma in the time at which it occurred and it is in this context that the therapy takes place, ‘changing’ the course of events at its onset. The historical event is still there and the memories of it remain but what makes the difference is the energy: the energy which flows freely and marks the patient’s release from the trauma.
It should be noted that our ontological system leads us to the therapy by following not the chronological order of events as has been recorded in the patient’s calendar time but a progression from the least painful to the most painful experience. In this wise manner it enables us to move on to deal with painful experiences after having gained strength on the way there. Indeed, at some stage our system will need to nourish us by leading us to very positive experiences so that we can gain the strength that we need for the next step, which is likely to be very painful.
Very often the progressive work that we do in order to nourish a patient and help them move forwards is alternated with regressive work to help the patient obtain what they never received in the past, to help them feel secure and continue their development with confidence.
Now I shall describe part of a therapy session I had with C. D. that took place after we had been working together for about three months. As usual, he arrived five minutes early. He declared that he was feeling very tired, although he hadn’t done anything to justify such tiredness. ‘I don't know what's happening to me… I feel so stiff and sluggish, and yet I haven't done anything particularly unusual to feel this way,’ he said with a self-deprecating expression.
V. Ch.: What you did might not have been unusual but it might still have been tiring.
C. D.: I haven’t done anything different from what I normally do… I shouldn’t be feeling this way.
V. Ch.: Are you perhaps too hard on yourself?
C. D.: That’s how I’ve learnt to be… I always feel as if I’m to blame for something. I feel as if I’m not good enough for someone… as if I fall short in some way… I don’t know, I always feel as if someone is expecting something from me…
V. Ch.: Now, at this very moment, what do you feel? Do you feel as if I’m expecting something from you?
C. D.: That you’re expecting me to be cooperative? I don’t know…
V. Ch.: And how do you feel when someone is expecting something from you and you don’t know what it is and you don’t know how to respond?
C. D.: I don’t know…
V. Ch.: At this moment, how do you feel physically?
C. D.: Tired. Yes, I feel as if someone forced me to dig a field on my own and I haven’t heard a word of thanks from anyone…
V. Ch.: If they said thank you, would you feel less tired?
C. D.: Definitely.
V. Ch.: Okay, concentrate on your physical state. You’re feeling tired, okay, we’ve got that… Now try and tell me a little bit more about the tiredness you feel.
C. D.: My head feels tense… it doesn’t hurt but it doesn’t feel good. I feel as if I can’t see clearly… The back of my neck feels like a lump of wood, I find it difficult to move my head from side to side. I feel as if my head will drop off… My shoulders feel like two blocks of stone. They feel heavy and hurt me… I find it hard to breathe deeply… My chest hurts…
V. Ch.: Your belly, your hips, your legs… how do they feel?
C. D.: Well, my belly feels a bit queasy… As for my hips and my legs, I can see them but I can’t feel them!
V. Ch.: Concentrate for a moment on what you can feel in your body… If you can, close your eyes and tell me what happens… or tell me if you can see something.
C. D.: Yes, I can see my girlfriend. I can see what happened yesterday… I’m close to the bed… I’m sitting on the bed and my girlfriend is coming towards me. She’s standing in front of me now and I’m afraid that she probably wants to have sex and I don’t know if I want to. I love her, I find her attractive, but right now I’m not sure that I want to have sex and I don’t know what to do.
V. Ch.: What if you simply told her that right now you don’t feel like having sex? If you simply said: ‘Darling, I don’t feel like it’, wouldn’t that be enough? Never mind the fact that you don’t know if she really wants sex.
C. D.: It’s not just that I don’t know if she wants sex, but even if she wanted it, she’s so good to me that I’m sure she wouldn’t grumble or complain or pull a face about it.
V. Ch.: Has anyone grumbled or pulled a face at you before?
C. D.: My parents! They were never happy with me… Never… I remember one day after school when I was young… I hadn’t done very well in a test and I was feeling worn out, I wanted to go to bed and forget about everything. They showed no understanding, they humiliated me and I felt drained. And then later, when I was fifteen or sixteen years old, I was afraid of having a relationship. I was afraid of being criticised by my parents and the girl I’d have a relationship with… I joined the army and hoped I might go out with a girl but I preferred to masturbate… That’s why even now I’m still quite addicted to it. I still find it difficult to take risks… I play it safe… Oh my God, I feel so drained… I want to lie down…
He lay down on the mattress and continued:
C. D.: It’s no accident that I used to tell my parents lies. By telling lies I would try and get a little bit of love and affection… Whenever I told the truth they were dissatisfied with me and rejected me. Whenever a lie was in danger of being exposed, I would make up a new one to cover up the previous one and eventually I always found myself trapped. It still haunts me, even now…
V. Ch.: Now, at this very moment, how do you feel? Focus on your body and your feelings.
C. D.: I feel as if a weight has been lifted off me! I don’t feel any anger, I don’t want to hit out… though I feel hurt… I feel as if I should give an account of myself to somebody, as if someone will judge me… I’m almost trapped in a tight corner. My throat hurts, it feels as though there’s a huge lump in it. I feel the need to curl up…
He curled up into a foetal position and remained silent for a while. He held my left hand while I supported his back with my right. A little later he continued:
C. D.: I’m ten years old now… I’m curled up in this position on my bed… That’s how I protect myself.
V. Ch.: Protect yourself from whom?
C. D.: From those who judge me, my parents.
He remained silent for a while.
V. Ch.: Now, at this moment, do you feel as if I’m judging you?
C. D.: No…
V. Ch.: Good. Now what would help you feel better?
C. D.: To wake up and find
