A number of my 'faithful' folk, i.e., those who are still in psychoanalysis with me, dread Christmas. It brings back all the dreadful traumas of their pasts and some have said they are not celebrating it and will take to their beds. This is fairly common of course. Return of repressed material for such friends is dreadful to behold. Their psychosomatisations and anguish is so real; a mirror reflection of what they suffered as infants. Where it happened before they developed speech - usually in the first year of life, they go mute; unable to even speak. It is heart-rending. I completely understand why Mother Theresa specialised in dying women in the streets of Calcutta - and later in Glasgow where, whilst folk were not dying in the same way, her nuns found the same dreadful traumas amongst folk; not always amongst the homeless either. One of my faithful phoned to wish me a happy Christmas and to tell me that she will be in bed 'till after the bells' , i.e., after Hogmanay. She said she dare not look at TV, listen to the wireless or answer the phone, for fear of intrusional memories of terrifying ordeals as an infant at Christmas.
I suppose 'there is no room for them at Christmas', so to speak - well, from their angle. Another, who is a very successful and well-known artiste said that she dreads being with her dysfunctional family as it reminds her of her dreadfully lonely and intrusive and criticised self as a child. I make no excuse for giving her a new and different life experience, even if it brings her into open conflict within her family of origin. She feels very damaged by her experience and wonders if she will 'make it' in life. She alludes to finding a man who will care for her and give her love, which she never experienced growing up. I pray she will.
All is not tinsel and jingle bells with carols.
Friday, 21 December 2007
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