Uncertainty to the Rescue

Minutes separate me from uncertainty. I know what to expect. Experience has shown me what happens when I arrive inside that therapeutic space. Things feel normal out here in the waiting area, in contrast to what happens in my mind when I’m in there, in what feels like a meditative place. I’m in control out here, or so I believe. This state of mind will change when I enter the room a few doors away. A year or so of multiple sessions per week has proven it to be so. Something else takes control when I start to speak on the couch. Why do I call the unconscious something else, as if it were of lesser importance than what I’m aware of in the moment? Uncertainty during the act of speaking, or during silence, can be frightening. I sometimes become overwhelmed on the couch. Words leave my mouth without my permission. Are you in control, I’ve imagined asking the trained analyst seated out of sight. As part of his training, he’s experienced years of this uncertainty on the couch. My imagined question to the psychoanalyst seated behind me seems to demand an answer. I want someone to rescue me from uncertainty. Uncertainty has arrived and I’ve yet to reach the analyst’s door. I’m on my feet. In an instant, I know who can rescue me, which must be partly why I spend so much time in the room I’m about to enter: to discover the rescuer in myself.

 

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