Is this normal?

Notes from the therapy office.

People often ask me if what they are feeling or experiencing is normal.

“Am I the only one who has struggled the way I am struggling now?”

“Does this voice inside my head mean I’m crazy?”

“I can’t get out of bed.”

“I can’t fall asleep.”

“I want a world that doesn’t exist.”

Is it normal? 

“Yes.” I say. “Yes, this is normal.”

And they almost always sigh such a huge sigh of relief. 

When I was in my first weekend of somatic experiencing training, over a decade ago, one of the first exercises we did was “building a healing vortex.” We were supposed to think of something that was safe and brought us joy, and then see what it felt like in the body to hold this “positive resource.” 

A couple times a day, we would pair up and start whatever exercise we were doing in this way. One person would be the “client” and one person would be the “therapist” and the therapist would say “think of something mildly upsetting.” 

This I could do. I could feel the agitation in my chest, the tension in my arms. I could think of all kinds of upsetting things very easily. 

Then they would say, “Now let’s move away from that and imagine your positive resource. Where do you feel that in your body?” 

As much as I would try to just picture something nice like my dog or I don’t know, a meadow or the ocean, my heart would start racing and I would get all angry and sad and panicked. I would feel completely trapped. I would start crying. It was awful. No one else seemed to have this problem. 

Was it normal? Maybe it wasn’t normal in that place or that time, but I don’t think it is unusual. The way trauma can see rest or pleasure or the idea of safety as dangerous. 

How do we defuse fear? We take a step toward it and then two steps back, and celebrate the stepping back. “Fuck that fear, I don’t have to approach!” And then we get kind of curious, take half a step towards it. Feel a little bit of a sense of mastery. The heart rate is like excitement rather than panic. A step back. Take a breath. That’s good for now.

Most people I work with have a hard time with positive emotion, knowing what they like, or letting in simple joy. We start with small, daily things. How do you know which pillow feels better? When you put on one outfit and it feels wrong, and you change it for another, how do you feel the rightness of the second one? Is there a food you like? What does the body sense when you have it on your tongue? When in the past week did you feel the most connected to yourself or someone else? We talk about relative safety rather than absolute.

Small drips of safety until the drips become a puddle, a puddle becomes a pond. The pond becomes the water that makes up over half of our bodies. The body becomes more fluid, more at ease. 

What could be your small daily thing?