by Luba Palter, MFT

“I want you to know we have only 7 minutes left.”

I gulped, and it was over. How could it be over so soon? I have only just begun to breathe. Time shrinks and expands based on our emotional states. In a moment, I will be left alone with my internal and external worlds. Time to be a grown-up: a functional adult in the world with commitments, schedules, errands, to-do lists, aspirational to-do lists, nagging to-do lists, phone calls to respond to, and emails to read. But while I am still here in the liminal land of not- quite- a- child /not- quite- an adult, I cannot imagine that I am up for this task. I cannot imagine leaving this land to venture into adulthood with this child in tow. She will weigh me down. She needs so much. She is destructive and has no sense of time. Years ago, an old supervisor said to me, “Maybe she is scared you will not take her into the rest of your journey.” She and I have been fighting about that ever since.

We encourage our patients to plummet into the depths of their psyches, and we have faith that once the hour ends, they will know how to carry on without us. We also know that is not quite the truth. The truth is we hope they internalize enough of us to be able to go on being. What if they do not know where to put us? What if putting us inside threatens the equilibrium of a finely-tuned system that has kept them not quite alive?

A tiny bird with a messy multi-colored ball of yarn inside

Pecking at food

You long for my embrace yet shudder at the touch of my finger

How do I keep you safe from the fury inside?

If only love was enough

But can this love stand up to the violence of your youth?

You fly around during the day and try to land for our sessions

A pressure and desperation muddled as one

A chance to connect to what’s true and alive

Yet only dead bodies find you

We are in the land of the buried now

Together, gasping for air

Trying to speak their language

What do they want, why won’t they let me be, you ask?

The tug of the underworld beckons you close

The duel of life and death

How will my story end, you ask?

How do we keep you alive, I ask?

Each day you live is a day longer than your mother

Each day you live, you are betraying her by choosing Earth

Each day you live, you punish yourself for the breath you take