“How is it structured?”
I’m curious and want to hear more about how they expect the treatment to work.
“Eight sessions, two hours each. Every session will start with an instructional portion, reactions to trauma, men’s violence against women, information about common symptoms of posttraumatic stress disorder, topics like that. After that there will be a less structured portion, the women can talk about their own experiences and listen to the others’ stories. The group leader’s role is to lead the conversation. Make sure that everyone gets a chance to talk and that no one becomes too dominant. After that, the leader will give a homework assignment, maybe asking the women to think about how their life changed after the traumatic event or come up with new goals for how they want things to be in the future. What they lost and what they think they could re-create, re-conquer perhaps. And then how they’re going to do it. You’ll receive a detailed
manual, but you’re free to depart from it. You evaluate the sessions together afterwards and offer opinions on the contents. Everything will be documented. It’s important to remember that this is a self-help group, so the level has to be just right—it should have substance and be able to help them but it can’t be too complicated. It’s not psychotherapy, and the program won’t be run by psychotherapists; the group facilitators will be women who suffered violence at the hands of men themselves.…”
Vijay interrupts himself and suddenly looks embarrassed. I know what he’s thinking and what he’s about to say.
“I, um, Siri… I’m not asking you to do this because you’re a victim, but quite simply because you’re a hell of a good psychologist and psychotherapist. You and Aina, you’re good. Damn good.”
“But the fact that I was the victim of violence in addition to being a psychologist and a therapist, maybe that doesn’t hurt?”
I study Vijay, watch him weighing the various alternatives. I know him well enough that I have some idea what he’s thinking. Tell it like it is or smooth it over? Pretend like nothing happened and that I’m the same person I was before or concede that what happened, the fact that another person tried to kill me, actually changed who I am?
“Does it bother you?” he asks.
He looks vulnerable and anxious. I contemplate his question, whether it bothers me that Vijay thinks that my personal history makes me better suited than someone else to do this job. And I realize it doesn’t. My personal experiences are still with me, but they don’t hurt anymore. It’s no longer an open wound. I think I actually have control over my reactions and my ability to relate to what happened.
“No, it doesn’t bother me.”
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