Page 164 of Scoring the Player
He’s six or seven years old…that’s long before Aiden.
“Damn.” I blow out a breath. “It always seems to come back there.”
“It is no small thing that you experienced. During critical developmental years, you didn’t have the safety or care that comes with an adult mirroring emotional regulation. I am a trained therapist, and as you know, a CPTSD survivor like you, and knowing what’s happening in here”—she gestures to her head—“is just as much of a mystery at times. We canshoulda, woulda, couldaall day, but it takes healing, and nothing short of it, to understand what’s happening in here. All we can do is practice grace and show up for our healing. And I probably sound like a broken record, but healing is a practice, not a goal.”
“How do I face Aiden? It’s like he dropped a bomb in my lap.”
“Admitting that he had feelings for you?”
I nod.
“Hmm. I think that will take some time to process, which we will continue to do through our work together. We need to get you regulated first. That’s the priority here. So, let’s talk tools to support you as we move to close out.”
I nod.
“Okay. You have a pad of paper and a pen?”
“Yeah.” I reach for both.
“Let’s come up with two to three things that feel really good for you with the goal of introducing calm into your nervous system every day. I want you to spend at least five minutes daily doing one of the activities that we list. We’ll start with three,but you can add to the list. I just want to know what you’ve added when we meet, to ensure it’s actually restorative. Okay?”
I nod.
“You’re great at visualization exercises. So, let’s add a few. I want you to think about someone who makes you feel really good when you’re around them. And by good, I mean safe, seen, heard, like you can let your guard down, and if there’s joy too, that’s great.”
Salem.
“I want you to think of a memory with that person or visualize them sitting next to you. If it feels safe for you two to touch, go for it, but if you don’t want to be touched, just imagine them sitting with you. How does that sound?”
I think of the last morning at the cabin when we hugged goodbye. When he went to pull away, I held on longer, and he wrapped me up tighter. “Got it,” I respond.
“What else feels good?”
“My music, playing ball, writing.”
“Fantastic. One more?”
I gnaw on my lip. I haven’t had much of an appetite all week or the energy to do much, so I rule out food or going out.Except… “I don’t know if it counts, but Ty, you remember Sid’s fiancé?”
She nods. “I remember Ty.”
She remembers everything. Sid and Ty are famous, though. But she also remembered the unicorn bandage story I told her that one time.
“When my article came out, he heard from a couple of guys that they also struggle with stuff, so he’s putting on a night for us to, like, drink beers or whatever.”
“That sounds like an amazing way to be part of a community. Are you thinking of going?”
If she had asked an hour ago, I would have said I was planning to skip, but now I don’t know. “Maybe.”
“Remaining in connection with people we trust is hard when we’re struggling, but it really is healing for us. Trust me. I can self-isolate like nobody’s business, but my therapist reminds me that we were never meant to struggle alone. Healthy communities and societies lean on each other.” She leans in slightly. “If you can, I encourage you to go.”
“Okay.”
“Alright, Arnaz. Again, fantastic work today. Really big work. Be gentle with yourself. Practice grace and compassion. Reach out if you need additional support. Okay?”
“Yep. Thanks, Zuri.”
“You bet. Let’s close out. Any thoughts or questions? And what’s one takeaway from today?”
