It was an incredibly powerful moment, and it's power increases the more I encounter it in my practice.
I have facilitated a number of Art Therapy Groups, in both community -based and inpatient settings. Whether on the ward or off, you will be faced with any number (2+? It's a group!) of individuals, from any possible walk of life, background, age range and lifestyle. More than once, when holding these groups, I have seen every person sat at the table share one thought- "I don't know who I am." (Or variations thereof- sometimes swearing is involved...).
Since then, I have often reflected how important a sense of identity is to our mental wellbeing. How can we "get back to our old selves" if we have no idea who that person is? How they behave? What they want?
Many of us can take a sense of identity for granted- we just are, and that can be enough; but having witnessed the damage a diffuse sense of identity can do to someone's self-esteem, resilience and relationship with the world- I like to make sure that identity, and a sense of self, takes a critical place within the therapy between a client and I. It may even be the work in the therapy.
In these instances, I find Art Therapy can prove to be a particularly effective approach for those suffering a diffuse or confused sense of self.
If Art Therapy is good for anything, it's giving shape and form to the most abstract of concepts and processes. It sounds absurd but therapees find a way to draw fear, or paint pain; and by that same token we can use artistic approaches to define the elements of a personality or character that we otherwise wouldn't (or couldn't) picture. there are many components to an "identity" or sense of self- our goals, values, the roles we play, our history; all of these things and many more can play a part in developing our sense of who we are.
Our Values- the things we believe in or are in other ways important to us- may be abstract in nature (fairness, family, decency etc), but we can find symbols, either universal or personal, that represent these. If you've ever seen a family crest then you know how important to symbolize or represent what it meant to "be a Smith" or "Jones" or (insert your surname here).
Sometimes what we want to be- our goal or aspirational self- is easier to imagine than the person we are. But if we can put a picture to both of those things, then we can see the gap between one and the other- maybe even that that gap isn't really so big.
A final thought on this- I think sometimes believe a lack of sense of identity for a lack of identity, and that's not true. You, whoever you are, have a deep, interesting, complicated and worthwhile identity, capable of so much. You just might not be able to see it- and in that case, Art Therapy can be a great way of giving form to the invisible.
Often, I have come across patients who minimise their experiences. “Yes but I’ve got nothing to complain about “. “It’s not as bad as some others” “It’s not like I’ve been in a war!” etc etc.
Sometimes, the patients saying these things are talking about the kind of horrors you wouldn’t dare contemplate, yet somehow find a way to pass these off as minor, insignificant occurrences. At other times, these are people in distress who are genuinely comparing their own traumas to those of others in a kind of “pain hierarchy”, as though there is an objective threshold of what is too much for some to bear, or that there is a minimum requirement to needing help.
This is an utterly false measure.
The fact is our emotional and psychological pain thresholds are as individual and inexplicable as our physical ones. There are mothers who can ride out childbirth like a stubbed toe, yet are reduced to jelly at the knock of a funny bone; carpenters can lose a thumb tip in a day’s work and still get the cupboard fitted, but step on their little one’s errant Lego brick and you may just bring a tear to the eye.
Likewise, trauma doesn’t have a comparison chart, and the sources and catalysts are arguably even more complex. You don’t have to have lived through war or have been subjected to the worst of abuses to qualify for emotional or psychological support. You are no less entitled to your distress at the hands of questionable parenting or workplace harassment than if you had survived some more tangible or newsworthy experience.
Life is hard; from workplace to war zone, schoolyard to street corner, we are none of us immune to the trials and pains it has to throw at us, and it all hits different for each of us.
It’s not a case of “yes but their hurt must be worse than mine”, but rather more simply “this hurts for me”. The rest is immaterial.
No one is measuring your pain, there is no competition. All we can do is own our own, and know when to ask for help.
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