Ambiguous Loss (AL)

I don't want to write about this. Maybe I should have started with writing about "resistance". I feel a lot of resistance this weekend. And I'm cranky and sad and just slightly self-pitying. Are you with me yet?

I have SO much to be grateful for, but I will not shame myself for having feelings about losing my "normal life" (AL #1).

Until Sunday evening I was planning to have a modified-in-cleaning, but still regular-work-week.

And then they closed the schools.
Shit.

I had planned that when the schools closed I would stop seeing people in my lovely office space.  (I love sharing my office space- it's warm and cozy and I try my best to make it comfortable above all else. AL #2)

So quickly and under high stress I started to figure out video platforms for Tuesday morning while seeing the last of my in-person adults and rearrange my quickly changing calendar.

People also planning on "normal life" up and until Sunday evening cancelled their appointments. The mom coming to tell me about her family's mental health needs and begin some counseling services left a voice mail saying "I just don't have the mental space to talk about what I was coming in to talk about." (Yeah, I hear ya. Of course. No problem.)

And as my calendar started to fill up with the red bar of "cancelled" across the top of each session, I could feel my mobilized social worker heart move into decisive and concrete action: find a video platform; join groups related to telehealth counseling on social media; consider briefly ethical issues of secure platforms being down and decide some needed the counseling session more than they needed me to say, "I'm actually not allowed to use Facetime for mental health-type services." Ok, go- crisis mode. Mental health triage.

Intermittently I would struggle to keep the problem-solving part of brain going in the face of so many moving pieces and problems to solve.  I had SO many lists of what needed to be done to adjust to this new reality. I know many of you did too.

By Wednesday I had figured out what device and located where in my office would work best for talking comfortably with the 'normal' visual distance of an in-person session. (The answer is the art table with a lap top on the top of a sticker basket.)

And it was strange to hold space that way, but my social worker-therapist heart was committed. I wanted to be present for child and adult clients alike. I'm primarily child-led in my practice philosophy and it's a funny thing to keep up and nudge us along in video sessions. My young client went to her family's art area and started painting. (OK! I will paint too. Show me how you blend colors and I'll give it a try. Let's hold up our pictures.)

I felt so strangely tired after only a few video sessions in a row. I read from other therapists later, that we are straining harder to be present and attune when we are doing it across the screen. That made sense to me. My whole body was tight with focus different from in-person sessions where I am intentionally relaxing my body.

And that might be ambiguous loss #3, understanding the workings of my own internal sensations. Stephen Proges coined the term interoception to name this sense. I am highly practiced at looking inward and knowing where my conscious mind is relative to the situation and my emotional state; how my body is feeling and what I need or do not need.

BUT this week! What is that feeling?! And that one? WTF! I don't like that!

(Thank goodness for sessions-- when I focus on being present for someone else, that is still a familiar feeling even with the changed medium. Stay present and with the internal world and words of the person with you. Got it. Check!)

But the in-between times it's being overwhelmed with concern and frozen at the same time. It's feeling stuck and not even quite sure what list needs to be made. Its knowing I want to act, but feeling completely stuck in how to take the smallest step. In a phrase, it's activation and collapse.

These are not normal times. And my body responded as it was meant to-- for survival. Being overwhelmed to a certain degree will move us to be mobilized BUT only for so long in duration or intensity and then we move on to immobilization/ collapse. This is the foundation of Porges Polyvagal Theory. My experience was intense energy spent to be present in video sessions, writing emails and making phone calls and then at the end of the day, collapse.

My typical work evening routine includes sitting in my favorite chair with a tea tray and watching something neutral or funny on Netflix or other media. I often listen to music and write depending on what I am feeling or need. This week, I was completely unable to have any sensation in my ears or eyes at night. I couldn't find comfort in a show or a song because I couldn't tolerate the stimulus. So strange. (AL #4- comfort activities). Oh! That hits a nerve! How many of you have lost routine comfort activities- gym, rec centre, swimming pool, social outings, window shopping, cafe sitting? Yikes! Everyone of us is feeling that!

That's my view. What's yours? What hard-to-define and lost-without-closure-or-meaning-making loss are you feeling? You're welcome to comment from your own perspective about your own experiences if you would like. Be nice, of course. We're all in this together, friends.