Jeez. How the days have flown by. I knock on the door of Suite 307. As usual, Joseph promptly opens the door, "Hi Eve! 4:26 - punctual as always, come on in!" I step into the first room and stop for a moment. "Is everything okay?" Joseph asks with sincere concern. "Oh, yeah," I quickly reply, "I just remembered I wanted to ask you about these decorations on the wall - the wooden ones and metal ones. Why is this room like this and the other room ...so.. white?" Joseph laughs, "You know, you are the first person to ask me that. When I first started guiding therapy sessions, it just felt natural to me to set the appropriate mood. The typical cream colored walls most therapists have seem so..." "Sterile?" I chime in. He laughs again, "..yeah, definitely that. What is inspiring about sterility? Absolutely nothing. I want the first room my guests see to be one that soothes, hence the blue hue on the walls, and I also want to ground people, give them a sense of 'earth' with woods and metals. Then, after you feel grounded, progress to a room that strips away 'the distractions of the here and now' in a comfortable way - the reason for the loveseats, the arrangement, and the white is to emphasize the cleansing of emotions. I had more of a plan to start sessions in the first room, but I often notice guests glancing at the wall decor in this room instead of truly focusing on what's being discussed." "Huh, that makes sense." I respond, nodding my head in agreement. "Are you ready for some more exploration of 'uncharted mental territory'?" "Yeah, let's see what we discover!"

We situate ourselves in the white cleansing room. "So Eve, how have you been since last Thursday?" "Time seems to have escaped me, but maybe that's just part of the fact that the holidays are at the end of next week." He nods his head, "That could definitely be part of it. How would you say your attitude has been?" "Hmm. Well, I have felt a little on the lighter, more relaxed side. When situations come up that are unpleasant and I feel an urge to take ownership of the outcome, I have been a lot better about dismissing that thought, and instead, getting out of my head and focusing on the warmth of my emotional blanket. Surprisingly, it makes things quite a bit easier." Joseph smiles, "Wonderful. That's great news! Raise your hand because you are actively working on one of your mission statements. Remember that the hand raising is a physical positive reinforcement. Let's have you relax and call on your next earliest important memory."

I relax into the loveseat and put my head against the back of the cushion. With my eyes up towards the ceiling I begin to describe the next memory. "The next memory is when I met my adoptive parents for the first time, although at that time, I had no idea who they were except people we were going to go live with. I remember being in an office environment with desks, then walking to a small room. Elijah was there, and so was my younger sister, Rebecca. When we got to the visitation room, my future adoptive mother and adoptive father were sitting down. Approaching them was weird. I felt a warmth coming from my adoptive father, but I felt more of a repulsion from my adoptive mother. She picked up Rebecca and sat her on her lap. My adoptive father talked to me and also sat me on his lap. I distinctly remember asking my adoptive mother if they had any cats that I could play with or hold, to which she replied, "Yes, but they don't like to be bothered." There was a coldness in her voice and in her mannerisms. I sensed she didn't like me. She reminded me of the other people from the first memory. Then, we left with them and went to their house to live..." I let my voice trail off and look at Joseph. Joseph smiles and tells me to continue with the next couple of important memories.

"Well, she was not warm and kind. Not like a mother should be. She seemed distant and annoyed. She was easily aggravated by noise or commotion. Granted, they did end up also taking in my baby brother, Johnathan, after he was born and released from the hospital. So, she did have four young kids with a lot of energy to tend to. She put us on restrictive diets to curb our natural restlessness. She said that because we were hyperactive that we were allergic to milk, corn, sugar, and peanuts. It severely limited my social interactions at school. It singled us out and made it hard to attend birthday parties and school functions without feeling embarrassed about our 'allergies'. Plenty of friends' parents told us growing up they thought she was crazy and that hyperactivity does not constitute a valid enough reason to enforce restrictive diets. Not to mention, the food we were allowed to eat was disgusting. The food diet really did bother me. It was a form of control. She applied control across the board with food, by monitoring the amounts of food in the house. She would make secretive lines on boxes of cereal, jugs of milk, etc. just to see if someone took food without permission. She put a padlock on the food pantry and a bike chain on the refrigerator. We weren't allowed to make phone calls without permission, and weren't allowed to answer the phone when it rang. She would check the temperature of my bath water, and if it wasn't room temperature, she would add cold water. We weren't allowed to check the mail or open any mail sent to us - she would open it first. She routinely took my things to 'teach me a lesson' and subsequently, would 'lose' my things so that I would never get them back, even after she said I could have it back 'after a while.' She made up all kinds of absurd lies to try to 'teach us lessons' but all that ever did was teach me not to trust her at all. She made fun of and criticized most everything I enjoyed, and often found a way to make me lose all joy in those things. As I got older and started to stand up for myself, she became nastier. One time she made me walk, in the snow, down the porch steps to a tree to 'argue' with it, and I was not allowed to wear shoes or a coat. My feet hurt so bad. My brother Johnathan begged her to let me in and she opened the sliding porch door to tell me to stop crying because I had enough 'insulation' to keep me warm. It was a jab about the weight I had gained from the psych meds I had been put on. But perhaps one of the worst things she did to me was actually something she did to Elijah..." my voice trails off again and I close my eyes and focus on breathing.

"What did she do to Elijah, Eve?" Joseph asks in a very soft, soothing voice. I exhale and continue, "She always ostracized him. She would make him sit on the floor of the bathroom everyday after school until dinner, and sometimes even after dinner. We weren't allowed to talk to him. It hurt my soul so bad. She made him write 'lines' and carry around a binder to write his 'lines' in for four years. Four years! He had no friends, and got bullied at school. I had to defend him when I could. Nobody but my friends knew about the hell he endured when he got home, and it sickened me to see him endure a different kind of hell at school. That's when he made the bomb threat at school one day. He didn't really plan to blow up the school, he was crying out for help. I mean, what is a kid to do to get some help if, after you make it overtly clear to school authorities and officials what is going on at home, and they don't do anything? How horrible! She would push him around, drag him by his clothes down the stairs and around the house. She would throw things at him. And that's when it eventually happened - he got big and strong enough that he pushed her back one day and it scared her. It must have rattled this woman to her core. I came home from school one day and told her he wasn't on the bus. That's when she told me in the most detached voice that she had Boys Town come and get him because she was tired of his behavior. My heart felt as though it would collapse inward and drag the rest of my physical being inward with it until I became the nothing she treated me like..." I wipe tears from my eyes and try to ease my shaking voice.

Joseph hands me a box of tissues and puts his hand on my knee. "It's okay, take your time. That was quite the toxic emotional dumping. That's plenty to work with. What I took away from that narrative is that this woman was cold, controlling, violent, angry, and overall, abusive. Am I missing anything?" I wipe a final tear from my eye, blink a couple times, and respond, "That's about it, in summary, just a miserable person."

Joseph continues, "I'm sure that must have been difficult for you, given that you felt such responsibility for all of the emotions you experienced, and for the well-being of your brother Elijah. What you just told me is, just like your previous memory, traumatic. We won't expand further on your adoptive mother's condition, as that won't help you with reprogramming. We will, however, focus on her domination and control over you. Are you ready to begin?" I nod my head yes. "Good, close your eyes and relax. Remember to keep your mind open. Imagine yourself back in their kitchen - just you by yourself. See the locks on the pantry and on the refrigerator, see the cabinets and the floor. You are standing there and you are wrapped tightly in your warm emotional blanket. Feel that positive energy flood your senses. Allow the blanket to make the room a little brighter, allow it to make the temperature comfortable, allow the blanket to create security. Turn your gaze to the locks. These locks represent her control, her paranoia, and her own lack of emotional stability - she is broken. Food is required for survival, and her fears drive her to resort to using a survival requirement to manipulate you. She is weak and scared. You are warm, strong...secure. I want you to walk to the bathroom where Elijah is sitting on the floor. Open the door. Wrap your blanket around him and sit with him for a minute. Don't worry about saying anything, just be in the moment with him. You are sharing a mutual desire for love, for acceptance, and a deep longing for stability. By being there with him, you two are fulfilling those desires for each other. You are feeling warmer, softer, and more peaceful. Elijah is experiencing this, too. He knows you care, and he also knows you are powerless against your abuser. He does not blame you for the situation you both endure. She keeps him confined to prevent the possibility of rebellious forces developing, because she is scared. Leave him now, and look for your adoptive mother. Look at her, look into her eyes. There is no light because she has lost her own joy. She is broken. She sees your strength and envies it. Her goal is to take away your joys to break you down, just like she is. It pains her to see you resilient, but that is exactly what you are. Now, open your eyes. How do you feel?"

I breathe a couple deep breaths before answering, "Tired, like I just ran a marathon mentally." Joseph nods, "That's a normal reaction to intensive reprogramming. Do you feel similarly about this session as you did the last? Do you feel this was successful?" I nod, "Yes. I never thought about all those instances as a projection of her own issues onto all of us kids. I knew she refused to accept that she might have some serious mental health problems, but it definitely makes sense - the locks, the constant monitoring, the restriction of our communication with the outside world, the lies...I did nothing to deserve it. It was all just a projection of her issues onto us. She was a bully." Joseph sits back in his seat, "Do you feel any sort of negative emotion?" I think for a minute, "Mm. I feel pity again for her...pity that instead of simply addressing her own issues, she pushed them onto her children. What should have been only a struggle for one person became a struggle for five people, and that's only counting the immediate effects her behavior created. I'm sure it impacted more lives in other ways....it's so sad. But, I don't feel hatred or fear or anything like that. Not now."

Joseph smiles, "Then once again, the reprogramming worked. With your memories about those situations, do you see any correlation between her isolating you, especially in social settings, that caused an impact to make you worry about how others perceive you?" "I - I'm sure that definitely played a role in my social anxiety, especially the dietary restrictions. Yes. But today, I am in control of my dietary habits. In fact, I guess that could be the root cause of my discomfort with others' judging me about my gluten intolerance. But today, I don't care what anyone says about it. Oh - raising my hand because that's another mission statement - ha, um, I should not feel required to justify my dietary preferences or habits to anyone. I do not expect nor prod anyone else to justify their food preferences to me, because, frankly I don't care. Why do they?...Oh...maybe they are broken..." Joseph claps a couple of times, "Yes, Eve, yes! This is excellent progress. Those that try to pull you down or pick you apart are envious of that aspect in which they pry. Healthy, whole people do not engage in such destructive behavior. How do you feel now that you've reached yet another milestone in your progress?" I smile and gush, "Really, really good actually. It's nice not feeling victimized. It's wonderful to feel empowered from within. No one can take it away from me." "Shall I see you Thursday, then?" Joseph inquires. "Yes, Thursday, it is."