Ms. Y
graduated from a local high school, never married and retired after many years
at a routine corporate job. Raised
by Italian immigrant parents who spoke little to each other or to her, she
observed their mundane, quiet life as if she were an outsider.
After her
elderly, widowed father died, Ms. Y suffered years of guilt, believing she hadn’t
taken good care of him in his old age. As friends moved away or died, she
became increasingly isolated and hopeless. Social life focused on occasional
family gatherings with nieces and nephews.
She began
treatment for symptoms focused on bodily ills: vague aches and pains and the
nuisance of noxious odors permeating her apartment. The neurologist ruled out
abnormalities to explain her troublesome olfactory perceptions.
After I
encouraged Ms. Y to expand her social network she joined a club for seniors
where she attended luncheons and knit and crocheted scarves and baby hats. She
felt useful again; the troubling odors disappeared and bodily preoccupations
diminished. She became motivated to follow through with the daily exercise
program recommended many times in the past.
During
several years of weekly sessions, we sat facing each other, but one day, she
asked to lie on the couch. She became less self-conscious and her thoughts
flowed. She recorded dreams in a little notebook. In one breakthrough dream, she and her brother find dirty
laundry in the mailbox. Memories from six decades ago surfaced. Her mother’s
brief disappearance when the patient was three years old had never been
explained. Did Mother have an affair? Other secrets about an aunt and uncle,
rumored by her parents’ friends, were hushed up. She realized her parents’ modus
operandi in life was to maintain stability with silence. The metaphor of dirty laundry connected
to family secrets and explained the detached pattern of her parents’ lives.
As a
young person Ms. Y followed in her parents’ footsteps, remaining on the
sidelines of life, avoiding social interactions, questions, controversies.
The
metaphor of dirty laundry and the memories that emerged helped Ms Y become less
fearful, freer to ask questions and express herself.
Conclusion:
At any age the mind can uncover connections to the past and allow us to live a
more courageous and richer life.
Thanks for the good words of encouragement, which are also confirmed by studies of the brain. A good text for understanding the plasticity of the brain is the book The Brain That Changes Itself by Norman Doidge M.D.
ReplyDeleteWhat sounds most important to your patient was her ability to trust you and to explore, accompanied by you, the tangled conflicts of her past.
Was it E.M. Forster who said 'Only connect'?
Aging is tough, and believing that happiness is possible makes the journey not only easier, but a whole lot more interesting.