Much to his relief, she saw it fit to resume their conversation, picking up from where they’d left off earlier.
“Louis,” she said, “I’d like to learn more about your childhood. How did your parents treat you when you were growing up?”
Hearing her question, Louis took a deep breath. Where should he begin?
“They were the most selfish people I knew. They didn’t do anything nice for us, unless there was something in it for them–whenever they did, they had to have an audience. I guess they needed to be admired for whatever they did.”
Susan nodded. From what she knew about narcissists, his parents seemed to fit the definition perfectly.
“When they’d give us something, there was always an ulterior motive. I’d get a toy, but then, they’d go and take it away as punishment. I didn’t know it back then, but now I think that was the only reason they’d given it to me in the first place–so, there’d be something there they could take away from me.”
While he was discussing his parents’ flaws, Louis thought his voice sounded strange because he wasn’t used to hearing himself talk. It was like he was listening in on another person’s conversation. It was the oddest thing.
“I really think they enjoyed watching me suffer. I don’t know why–maybe, it made them feel better about themselves.”
After this, he deliberately stopped to notice Susan’s reaction. He kept getting this nagging feeling that he’d been talking too long, and she was getting tired of listening to him sulk.
He was probably just remembering a conversation he had with his mom or dad when he’d been left feeling like what he had to say wasn’t important.
When he observed Susan, she didn’t look tired or annoyed. If anything, the intrigued look she wore on her face meant she wanted to hear more.
So, he continued.
“My parents never thought about us. It was always about them. They’d make us feel weak and needy for wanting their attention, even though we were only kids at the time...”
Before he could finish, Louis could feel his heart begin to throb in his chest. It was incredibly painful for him to dig up the old memories of his past, especially when he’d been trying so hard to forget them all.
He’d told himself he’d never go back, but here he was, reliving them. He just hoped he wouldn’t live to regret it.
Now that he started, he couldn’t stop. There was a lot more he wanted to say about his miserable childhood, if only for the little child within that never got a chance to tell his side of the story.
It was time he’d stopped living in fear and hiding their dirty secrets for them. It wasn’t his responsibility, and he no longer wanted a part in their drama. Eager to shine the light on what kind of people his parents were, he continued to talk about what really went on in the house of his upbringing.
“School was their first and only priority–nothing else in our lives mattered to them. They weren’t interested in our hobbies, and they didn’t care about our happiness. Friends were unnecessary distractions and so were any activities that took us away from our homework.
For the same reason, dating was out of the question. If we became successful, it’d reflect well on them, and they could brag about us to all of their friends. If not, it’d reflect poorly on them, and they’d be ashamed of us.”
Louis shrugged.
“What I really don’t get is how they could be so kind and respectful towards other people but treat their own kids like dirt,” he continued, shaking his head, “I’m not sure how to describe it, but they’re like different people around us. I guess it must have a lot to do with their narcissism, and even though, I know they can’t change, it still really gets to me–it just makes me so mad sometimes.”
“You feel like a piece of their property, instead of their child, and you’re angry because you feel they don’t treat you with any respect,” Susan acknowledged with a pause, “From how it sounds, their abusive behavior has been going on for a long time.”
Louis nodded.
“Too long–ever since I can remember.”
Susan sat still for a moment, gathering her thoughts.
“Is this your first time telling someone about it?”
“I’ve tried telling my coworkers about it, but they were no help,” he said, “They told me I need to get over it, and that some people have it a lot worse than I do. So, this is the first time I’ve told someone who actually cares.”
Susan listened, recording the conversation in her notebook.
“Parents have to provide for their kids in so many ways, but narcissistic parents are unable to give their kids what they need the most, and that’s love,” she said, “If done right, the parent-child relationship can be one of the strongest relationships out there, but in a situation like yours, there’s nothing there to keep it together–no bond, no special memories, no joy.
Instead, parents like yours rely on a sense of obligation and even guilt to keep their child there. That’s usually how the abuse is allowed to continue.”
“That’s true. That’s how they’ve kept me around for this long. I don’t love them, and they don’t love me. They’ll say they do, but they’re fooling themselves–they love me like they love their TV. Love doesn’t mean the same thing to them as it does to other people.”
Louis suddenly grew hot, as guilt began to take over.
“I know it sounds wrong, but how can I love them? They’ve never taken an effort to get to know me or anything. It’s like they’ve programmed me from birth to be whoever they want me to be, never allowing me to think for myself–I have to agree with them on everything, or I’m just wrong.
As a kid, I couldn’t even have a healthy argument with them. They’d just tell me to be quiet. Man, they were so mean.”
“It’s frustrating when your own parents won’t even listen to you,” Susan empathized.
“It is!” Louis cried, “I think it’s affected the relationships I have with other people, too–even now, I can’t disagree with someone because I think he or she will get mad at me for having my own opinion. It’s really hard being like this as an adult.”
“It’s like being trapped in the past,” Susan pointed out.
“You know what? That’s exactly what it’s like.”
“So, you feel a lot of your problems stem from your upbringing?”
“I think so,” Louis replied slowly, “Oh, and I forgot to mention that I was homeschooled. That, of course, didn’t help matters. If anything, it made it a thousand times worse–I had no friends, and I was at home all the time, feeling suffocated and depressed.
When I wasn’t at home, I was at church, and even though I really hated it there, I never said a word. All the adults around me were harsh, critical, and extremely judgmental. They all made me feel like a really bad person and were always blaming me for everything.”
“Do you have any specific memories that you’d like to share?” Susan asked, glancing down at her notebook.
Louis thought for a while before he gave an answer.
“There is one…it happened at home. I wasn’t allowed to keep the door closed in my room, so I’d pretend to use the bathroom. It was the only way for me to get any privacy. I’d sit on the floor with the lights off, crying. I’d turn the radio up really high, so that no one in the house could hear me.
As I sat there, I had a lot of thoughts about suicide. I just wanted to reach for my knife and end it, but my fear of hell was too great. In fact, that was what kept me from ever doing it. After I moved out, I told my parents about it, and they didn’t say anything–no apologies, no sign of remorse, nothing.”
After this, there was a brief silence. However, Louis still seemed to be wrapped up in his thoughts.
“How does it feel getting all that off your chest?” Susan asked finally.
“It feels really good,” he reflected, “I just wish I’d done it sooner. I’ve wasted so much time...”
“It’s ok. You’re here now,” she con
soled him.
Louis smiled at her. He had a hard time believing that people like her really existed in the world.
Was she even human? Maybe, she was an angel.
“The first thing I’d like you to work on is silencing the inner critic.”
Louis nodded, “How do I do that?”
“Your current negative thinking patterns were formed early on by other people, such as your parents. You have internalized these thoughts, and now they’ve taken over your mind. In reality, they aren’t really your thoughts at all but someone else’s. You need to realize that these negative thinking patterns are responsible for many of the problems that you find yourself facing today.”
“That’s not surprising,” he sighed.
“Before we get started, it’s important to understand that having realistic expectations for therapy is crucial to recovery. Often, a client will make great progress, but when he starts putting too much pressure on himself to deliver, he ends up sabotaging his efforts. From what I’ve witnessed, a person who works at his own pace and expects setbacks from time to time is the one who makes the fastest recovery.”
“How long does it take to get better?”
“Most of my clients have found that a month or two of weekly sessions is enough to get them on the right track. By that time, they’ve usually found effective ways to cope with anxiety and keep it under control. However, if it takes you longer, there’s nothing wrong with that, and it can be completely normal. I’ve had clients stay in my care for up to two years.”
“It will probably take me a long time,” he warned her, “I’m not the fastest learner.”
“That’s ok,” she said, “You might surprise yourself, though.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“There’s something you can do when you get home,” she said, handing him a list of positive affirmations, “Choose a couple of phrases that you believe or partially believe about yourself. Then, write each of them out about ten to fifteen times daily in a notebook for the following three weeks. Each time, remember to read them out loud with as much expression as possible.”
Louis liked the fact that he could work on his anxiety disorders from home. There, he could give his full attention to any given assignment, and he wouldn’t have to worry about his nerves getting in the way.
“Is there anything else that I can do for you today?” Susan asked with finality.
“No, I’m good,” Louis replied.
“It was very nice meeting you, Louis,” Susan said, getting up from the couch and politely holding her hand out to him.
His hand was trembling, as he reached out to shake hers.
Her hand felt warm and moist against his cold, clammy skin. He wondered if she knew he was in the middle of a panic attack.
Once they were done shaking hands, Louis turned to leave the room. Closing the door behind him, he stood quietly for a moment and took a deep breath.
“I did it,” he whispered to himself in sheer disbelief, “I really did it.”
Chapter Four
That afternoon, Louis returned to his apartment. Leaning over, he kissed the list of affirmations Susan gave him.
He couldn’t describe the feeling. It was like he’d spent the last twenty years of his life searching for gold, and now, he was holding it in his hands.
He was extremely eager to begin his first assignment. Holding the list, he carefully read through each phrase, hoping to find some that would apply to him.
By the time he’d come to the final affirmation, he had chosen two.
Snatching a pen from his desk, Louis pulled out his notebook.
Then, he began to write the words:
“I am brave.”
He wrote the phrase down fifteen times but was unable to stop his negative thoughts. They sounded like broken records, repeating the same awful tune over and over again.
So many doubts kept flooding his mind, and he just didn’t know how to get rid of them. Who am I kidding? I’ve always been like this. What makes me think I can change now?
Only a few minutes into the assignment, Louis was feeling hopeless and defeated. However, he was determined not to let his fears stop him from finishing the exercise.
In the past, he’d sabotaged his own good efforts too many times. This was his chance to break a nasty old habit, and maybe gain some say in his own life.
Turning the page in his notebook, he began working on his next affirmation.
With great reluctance, he wrote down the next phrase:
“I can make mistakes.”
In the middle of his work, he received an unexpected phone call from his mother. Today, her phone call made him very upset.
It wasn’t that he minded being interrupted, though–something else seemed to be bothering him.
The therapy session had helped him see his childhood for what it was, and it made him remember why he was the way he was. His parents had made him this way.
Today, he’d let her call go to voicemail.
Once Louis finished the exercise, curiosity overtook him. Picking up his phone, he listened to the message his mother had left for him.
“Louis, my friend at work has a daughter who wants to meet you. Call me, and we’ll set up a time and place for it.”
Hearing his mother’s words, Louis rolled his eyes. He had enough things to worry about in his life, and he was sure this would only add to it.
One day, Louis would fall in love and get married, but right now, he just wasn’t ready for any of that. There was still a lot of work he had to do on himself before he could even begin to entertain thoughts like these.
He didn’t know why his mind turned to Susan just then, but it did. He longed to see her face and hear her voice, and he wanted nothing more than to be in her calming presence again.
Ever since the session he had with her earlier in the day, he couldn’t stop thinking about her soft hands and the sweet smelling perfume she wore. He silently went over everything she’d said, until he had each word memorized.
He thought about the clothes she wore, the hair she’d tried to keep hidden from view, and the way she’d looked him in the eyes. He didn’t know what he was feeling, but he was sure it wasn’t healthy.
He’d become attached to her, and it was only the beginning.
All week long, he restlessly awaited his next therapy session. He wanted to see Susan again, and he wanted to be healed.
Louis couldn’t wait to continue his journey towards recovery. He had to believe this would make him better because nothing else in the world would.
When Friday finally arrived, he completely fell apart. The spark of longing and excitement from the last few days were gone from his eyes.
Now that it was time to go, the reality of it set in, and he was terrified of going back.
What if Susan doesn’t like you? What if she thinks you’re a little crybaby? All you did last time was whine and complain. That would drive anyone crazy!
He had to go. He couldn’t stop now. He needed this, and he needed her.
When Louis arrived at her office, Susan was already inside, waiting for him.
Greeting him, she stood up and held her hand out to him.
“It’s nice to see you again, Louis.”
He noticed she looked a little less serious this time.
Reaching out his hand, he gently shook hers.
“I hope you didn’t have to wait long,” he mumbled awkwardly.
“It’s ok,” she smiled, “I was just filling out some paperwork for a new patient.”
Their eyes met, and for a moment, time stood still.
“That sounds like so much fun,” he joked, attempting to draw attention away from their current situation.
She laughed.
“It’s even more fun than it sounds.”
He grinned at her.
Remembering her duties, Susan’s face turned serious.
“How have the affirmations been going?” she asked with sudden formal
ity.
Louis sighed. Why did she have to be so serious?
“To be honest, they haven’t been going well,” he replied, “My mind keeps finding reasons to doubt them, and I don’t know how to make it stop.”
“It will take a while for them to work their way into your subconscious mind. Just keep doing them, even if you have some doubts. You may have a hard time believing them now, but in a couple of weeks, you’ll likely find yourself beginning to question your old thoughts instead.”
“I really hope that’ll happen,” Louis said.
“It will,” she assured him, “It just takes some time. When you have a negative thought, it’s important to stop it in its tracks. Otherwise, it will just end up taking control of the psyche again. When you notice a negative thought beginning to surface, tell yourself to ‘stop’ or think of a big, red stop sign.”
“I wish it were that easy…”
Observing him, Susan noticed that his neck grew stiff, and his shoulders dropped. She could tell that his stress levels were rising, and they weren’t going down anytime soon.
“When you get discouraged, try to remember how long you’ve been like this. It’s never easy breaking an old habit, but with hard work and time, I believe that you will find peace.”
“I really want to believe that,” he said with a sparkle in his eye, “The affirmations were really working at first, but then, something bad happened at work, and it all went downhill from there. Before I knew it, I was back to where I’d started, feeling ridiculous for even thinking I could change.”
Susan knew what that was like.
“Here’s something you need to remember–people with anxiety disorders usually have all or none thinking. You said the affirmations were working for a while, but then something happened that made you overlook all the progress you’d been making. The sooner you learn to expect setbacks and be ok with them, the better. Until then, it’ll probably seem like nothing’s happening.”
Louis understood–this analysis described him perfectly. Obviously, he knew the problem well enough but not the cure.
Now that he knew what needed to be done, he’d work harder.
Counting Scars: Six Shoulders to Lean On Page 4