My First Eye Contact With My T

[macca]

Thank goodness I'm not the only one! I thought it was just me being weird. I barely look at my T, or only make eye contact briefly when the content isn't so emotionally loaded. I look at her cabinet, out the window, at her coffee table, etc. I've seen her for 6 or 7 sessions now, and the last couple of sessions she has asked if there is any Asperger's in the family, and there isn't to my knowledge. She was asking about other family members, but I'm worried that she thinks I've got it because I have trouble looking at her. She's been a trauma therapist for the last 14 years, so if other people do it too (relief) then surely she would know that's "normal" for us! I've gone through some "good" patches in my life where it hasn't been a problem, but if I'm in a bad patch I can barely look at anybody. I wouldn't have good patches if I was, I don't think?

@Reds that is brilliant! Well done!

 

[Reds]

All of you are making me feel like I have achieved something big :) My head is now getting big and I am doing my happy dance

Hopefully in the future I will be able to maintain the eye contact throughout the session

 

[mytai]

@Reds That's because you HAVE achieved something big :)

 

[EverOnly358]

So it's not just me that has a problem with eye contact with people. Not just the therapist; anyone. For cryin' out loud

It's not just you! Truly. If eye contact accidentally happens with me, I can suddenly start crying and screaming and running out of the room, no joke. It's gotten better, but it's still pretty bad. If I force myself to act normal and make eye contact... I can do it, but I usually collapse the next day. It's just that it instantly puts me back into a replay of my childhood trauma, every single time. Even when I'm not feeling very symptomatic PTSD-wise, it's still such an ingrained habit, that it's really frightening to try and make eye contact at all, with anyone. It feels dangerous.

I've seen her for 6 or 7 sessions now, and the last couple of sessions she has asked if there is any Asperger's in the family, and there isn't to my knowledge. She was asking about other family members, but I'm worried that she thinks I've got it because I have trouble looking at her. She's been a trauma therapist for the last 14 years, so if other people do it too (relief) then surely she would know that's "normal" for us! I've gone through some "good" patches in my life where it hasn't been a problem, but if I'm in a bad patch I can barely look at anybody. I wouldn't have good patches if I was, I don't think?

I think it's trauma based. People with PTSD have a lot of ways to avoid other people, because we've learned other people can be really scary.

All of you are making me feel like I have achieved something big :) My head is now getting big and I am doing my happy dance

That's great!!! :joyful:

 

[Badger]

I don't know why I like to do this but my therapist and I always go for walks during sessions. That sort of eliminates the need for eye contact. But going in the same direction, doing something together like walking, well it's connecting somehow. In a non threatening way.

 

[Reds]

@Badger, that's so cool. Wish I could take a walk with my t, I think it would make it easy to talk. For now we always stuck in her office, me on the couch and her on the chair

 

[maddog]

Badger raises a really interesting point here. I think that by necessity, the physical dynamics and environment of the therapeutic setting can feel somewhat daunting and clinical and sterile - the two of us sitting there, facing each other, in a relatively small, relatively impersonal physical space that is specifically designed for "therapy" and nothing else... I think it can sometimes add to the feelings of perceived power imbalance, discomfort, guardedness and unreality, and hence add to the difficulty in making eye contact or otherwise communicating at all.

Obviously in most cases it's just the nature of the beast and something we have to cope with.

I am one of the lucky ones (in my opinion anyway) in that I also sometimes have the opportunity to go out walking while talking with my therapist. Also, for sort of practical reasons, we often find ourselves in the car driving places together as we talk. I find these environments to be some of our most connecting and sharing times, and while driving or walking, I have been able to tell him things I thought I never would be able to, and hadn't been able to in his office. I think that element of normal human behaviour brings an element of confidence and equality that can sometimes make all the difference.

I am thankful, and appreciative, of the flexibility that I am privileged to have in our relationship.

Maddog

 

[Tinyflame]

I believe like I think Anthony said ages ago (paraphrasing) therapy could better be instituted outdoors, or walking, or over coffee, etc. I think it adds normalcy but also gives an outlet for anxiety, energy, staying grounded by responding to and in the moment. Reduces stress.

 

[Promicarus]

I think our reluctance to make eye-contact is not only a reasonable fear, but very probably a healthy one. After all, they say that the eyes are the windows to the soul. So what can we expect from a world that sees our soul, and sees that it has been "sensitized", and looks "raw", and "wary", due to our traumatic revelation of the world as a dangerous, threatening place?

They say humans are "sight hunters"--that different animals base the framework of their perception around their most heightened sense. And that ours is sight. Could it be, then, that this sensitized, traumatized look in the eye is the human version of a "bared neck"---drawing predators out of the woodwork? Could this be responsible for the phenomenon of "revictimization"--the statistical fact that those with a history of trauma tend to become the victims of later traumas at an incredibly higher incidence than those without trauma?

Maybe it's some primal, visceral knowledge, more deeply seated than our conscious minds have access to...that in eye-contact, we are revealing a vulnerable soul, walking around with necks bared, in a threat-rich environment, and unable to draw them in behind an adequately convincing facade that would enable us to "pass" in a world that views vulnerability as a liability to be preyed upon.

At one time I would have given anything to rid myself of vulnerability. All vulnerability. To not only wear armor, but become armor, with no interior to attack. But that's a brittle strength, at best--and a lifeless one. All assumed armor is, after all.

I've realized that real strength comes from the quiet knowledge of competency arising from experience in battle. And that can only come through joining the battles rather than withdrawing from them. Not battling the world. But battling the inner war of my own demons.

In avoiding the battle in hopes of remaining safe, instead, I rob myself of that opportunity--the gradual building of muscle and confidence that comes not only through winning in battles fought, but through knowing that, even I've lost one today, I fought my best, and will return tomorrow, undaunted--all the stronger and wiser for it.

 

[macca]

Maybe it's some primal, visceral knowledge, more deeply seated than our conscious minds have access to...that in eye-contact, we are revealing a vulnerable soul, walking around with necks bared, in a threat-rich environment

Wow Promicarus - maybe you are onto something. By the way, your writing here just blew me away - there's some talent there. But back to what you said - that just seems to ring true. And it would explain why we can "recognise" other people who have gone through hell.

 

[Promicarus]

Thanks macca. Really. Needed that today!

 

[The Albatross]

Hmmm. Do we? Or is that just a preferred perception. Human beings actually are ill equipped hunters so far as the animal kingdom goes... except for brains.