A therapist's touch

Hmmm, I wonder what you think about that? As a play therapist, the only time I would touch a child client was if they asked me to; I would never touch a client unless it was requested and it was appropriate, obviously.

Earlier today, I wrote about a therapist touching my shoulder to sort of wake me up and make me aware. That made me think about other times therapists have used touch, always appropriately. I felt that specific time, it was her natural instinct. She needed to get my attention and make me aware of the issue. Her words had not seemed to have the effect but the touch followed by a distinct question, did wake me up in a sense.

That therapist used touch a few times during my intervention. One time, I think she felt she was losing me to dissociation as I withdrew into myself during a memory of a particularly harrowing experience. She realised she needed to bring me back to reasonable thinking as I seemingly became oblivious to her presence. She forcibly touched my shoulder once again with a deft movement of her hand and with a kind but assertive 'I am here. I am with you. You are not alone' brought me back to the canal alongside which we sat. I remember glancing at her but immediately being dragged back through the downward spiral of senselessness. Once again, she touched my shoulder and this time, she encouraged me to start walking and that enabled me to be present and continue with an awareness of my process.

I knew I was still caught up in my doldrums so I waited until we were walking back to the railway station to ask her why she had done that. That was was always my 'grounding' time. That is, my time to breathe at the end of a difficult session. And a time to prepare for my return to society. Really important for me as I needed to be sensible and 'with it' enough to travel on two different trains to make my way home safely.

When I asked her why she had done that, she said she felt she was losing me. I was dissociating and she needed me to know she was with me. I was safe. Very important. I had not meant for that to happen but I know it does. She was the first person to make that known to me, the first one to realise what was happening and try and 'bring me back'. She had succeeded.

During another extremely distressing session, I was lost in tears and searing sadness standing on the river bank next to her. A place I had requested for that particular session as I knew it was going to be a very difficult one for me. I needed to hear and feel the soothing running water surrounding and relieving me of my inner turmoil. I had finished telling my story and was awash with wailing when I suddenly heard her voice. She stated that she felt the need to touch me but she wondered if that would be okay. I heard her. I could feel her presence standing by my side, slightly turned towards me. I nodded in between yelps of anguish. She asked if she could gently touch my shoulder. I nodded. She did so. I cannot say I felt reassured or comforted by her touch but I realised it was the thought that counted. She meant well. But I was too wrapped up in my own stuff in that moment.

Those are the times I have felt a therapist's touch and it all happened to be from the same therapist. Other therapists have displayed either an unease or a determination not to touch. As I say, I would not touch a client unless they requested it and it was appropriate. I suppose it is up to the therapist and the client.

PS This therapist was so attuned to me, I thought it was amazing. My Mum had been the only person to be like that with me. When I was finishing my therapy with her and we were discussing our times together, she told me that she had had a similar upbringing and really could understand how I felt. I wondered if that is why we worked so well together and why she just seemed to understand me. She knew how to challenge me, she knew how to encourage me and most importantly, I think, we could share a laugh together at the silly things that happened. There were plenty!