|Clinical Excellence Couples Therapy Mindfulness Linda Bacon Trauma Great Attachment Debate Symposium 2012 Narcissistic Clients Men in Therapy Diets Community of Excellence Future of Psychotherapy CE Comments David Schnarch Attachment Theory Clinical Mastery Couples Gender Issues Ethics Mary Jo Barrett The Future of Psychotherapy Alan Sroufe Attachment Challenging Cases William Doherty Etienne Wenger Wendy Behary Mind/Body Brain Science Anxiety|
|Hope in the Ruins - Page 5|
One way we use titration is to consider carefully where to begin in the client's story. So, at that point, rather than asking for more details about her fiance's death or her feelings at that time, I asked what she sensed inside, just having told that piece of the story. She said she felt an ache in her heart. I asked if the ache had a shape or color (making the details of an intense feeling concrete by asking questions about color, shape, and texture is a form of titration). She said it was like a big, black stone in the center of her chest. I invited her to sense just the edge of the stone (another titration) and see what she noticed. I saw that she took a deeper breath at that point (usually a sign that the part of the nervous system that calms us—the parasympathetic nervous system—is coming back on line). She said she felt a little "better," and I asked her to describe the sensations of "better" and to stay with those a bit. I then asked about the stone. She said it was smaller and not as black. I had her just notice the change. I then asked her what was helping her get through the loss of someone she loved so dearly. Shifting to a question about a time after the worst part of the trauma is another way to titrate.
She began to tell me the names of people in the camp who were a source of support for her. With each part of the story of support, I invited her to notice what she was sensing in her body. The remainder of the demonstration consisted of shifting between the traumatic story (in titrated pieces) and the story of support and positive memories of her fiance. After about 45 minutes of working this way, she reported that the black stone was now a pebble. She said that the pebble represented love—the strength of her love for her fiance and the love that she's receiving from others as she goes forward in her life. Several of us had tears in our eyes as this young woman, having gone through this gentle healing journey, looked back at us with tear-filled eyes and a gentle smile.
Since we're living at an IDP camp, we begin to hear stories about the positive results people are having as they try the simple stabilization and self-care skills on their own. A few days after the workshop, a man comes up to tell me that he'd taught his wife how to use the stabilization skills when she had a nightmare. He was so proud to have had something to offer her, and especially happy to be able to report that she'd been able to go back to sleep after using the skills.