I remember when I first encountered the theory of structural dissociation – through a therapist I saw a few times and the book she recommended to me “Coping with Trauma-Related Dissociation” (2011) by Suzette Boon, Kathy Steele, Onno van der Hart. The last author – I just recently learned are not allowed to practice psychotherapy anymore, due to transgressions? I will not judge that; I do not know enough about it to have an opinion on it.

But what I do have a lot of opinions on is the theory itself, and how it is used.

I was told in therapy that my therapist only wanted to talk to the “main-me” – the ANP (apparently Normal Person) – that felt insulting on so many levels. Firstly – apparently?? It sounds like the person (me) is abnormal – I just appear normal. Secondly – and more importantly – if a part of me initiates taking the whole of me to therapy to process trauma – and is refused a voice – how on earth is that going to be understood, by me? And to come to therapy and be told you are not only “just an emotional part” but also that the therapist then does not want to talk to you??

How people dissociate is probably as different as anything else. What I describe in the poem below is my experience of one way I dissociate. These days – I can stay around and experience the experience of dissociating – kind of a contradiction in terms (since dissociating for me fills the function of not having to be around). But I stay – and experience it. When I started doing that – it was absolutely terrifying. So, I fled it – into my mind and other versions of me. But I have practiced. A lot, and now I can stay in it. It still makes me feel inadequate. I cannot control it. Only be in it – work with it – anchor myself to the best of my ability. Most people would not pick up on any of what goes on for me.

It feels like failing. Like I let fear govern and control me. When technically I know I am safe. What really helps me out of it – is being with someone I feel very safe with, and whom I can anchor “in”. But I have learned that is not okay. That I need to be able to anchor myself – so I keep on practicing.

I used to be very ashamed of my dissociation. Of how I leave my mind and enter this pure state of sensing – and how when I try to come back – I sometimes can not find where I left off, and don’t know what we were talking about or doing. I have learned to stay in my blank space – not panic – and orientate myself. Leave people waiting. Even letting them see my distraction. Hear the stammers. Hear the pauses when I search for words. Returning to mind is not easy. But it is how we “human” right? We exchange things through our minds. We talk with each other. Reaching to each other’s senses seems not to be okay.

I am a mindfulness instructor – and am currently taking an advanced training in Trauma Sensitive Mindfulness (TSM) with David Treleaven (https://davidtreleaven.com/). I took his basic course during the fall. They are great courses!

I am also a person with severe trauma and I can be highly dissociative (although I am getting to be more and more in charge of my dissociation than the other way around – If you are interested in my thoughts on dissociation and trauma, there is plenty to read in my blog at http://livethechange.se/).

Taking this course simultaneously as the Coronavirus is affecting us all on a global scale – is interesting. It becomes even more interesting for me since I have managed to time huge life transitions to this time period too… Very little is certain in my life, this did not start now – but has been a process. But the resolution of the process is happening right now.