Therapy # 2 - Defining Boundaries

Earlier in the week I had the first appointment with my therapist to start my journey to Paris, aka the place I fear most. Because the woman I see is first and foremost a friend, she began by redefining a professional relationship. I have been through this before. We usually go out to lunch or dinner on a fairly regular basis where the conversation can waver between friendly chatter and professional advice. But when I have a serious problem, it is back to regular scheduled appointments, in her office, no fooling around. Check.

She began by asking me what I had hoped to accomplish. And I started down the road of how I am tired of being afraid to go to sleep for fear of nightmares. That there are still triggers that, even after all these years, can stop me in my tracks, that cause terrifying flashbacks that paralyze me as they flip through my head like a viewmaster. However, the reality is that I can go through my life for very long periods of time without ever having a symptom. I really have a very loving, stable and abundant life. But then, someone or something flips a switch that reawakens it, I become super sensitive, the flashbacks and nightmares return and it seems to take a long time to settle back down. I am looking to have a little more control over that. I would also like to reduce the level of guilt I feel that is always running in the background of everything I do,

She suggested that I don’t “see Paris first” as I have been trying to do this for a long time, unsuccessfully. So we are going to break it into hopefully manageable chunks, carefully inching my way forward. My first assignment is to compile a list of those triggers:

-the smell of alcohol on someone’s breath

-the smell of certain fall leaves - which must be tree specific because the maple leaves and pine trees around my house do not bother me, nor do my frequent backpacking trips through the Adirondacks.

-The smell of a laundromat - I don’t know why this is, but I know I will walk way out of my way to avoid a laundromat in the plaza where I bank and shop. The smell is similar to a body slam for me.

-the smell of wet wool. Again, I am not sure why.

-Any exposure to stories on rape, corrective rape, torture, etc. Even just to write those words causes me too much distress.

-When the interim pastor of my church told me I was “breaking God’s rules” it tripped multiple memories of the religious, hateful language of that day. But that phrase just put me around the bend. I had heard it before.


Well, this is a beginning. I have never really thought about listing these things and I am struck by how many triggers are based on smell. I’m not sure this is complete but sometimes I am unaware of a trigger until I encounter it and then wonder what hit me. I believe the next step will be to be able to talk about why these things impact me so. And I suppose to try to discover what I am not remembering about the others. I am equal parts hope and trepidation.

Fortunately, this will be a long, holiday weekend for me, the weather is suppose to be mild and I hope to get away and do a little skiing. It will be good for my soul.