Brighton & Hove Psychotherapy, Author at Brighton and Hove Psychotherapy

January 7, 2019 by Brighton & Hove Psychotherapy Leave a Comment

How Psychotherapy Taught me to Live Life

This piece is written by a ‘fictional’ client who is a composite of three real-life clients who have shared their experience of psychotherapy with me. Some details have been changed to ensure confidentiality, however, the thoughts feeling and experiences expressed are those of three very real clients:

When I came to psychotherapy I did not even really know what it was. I knew I needed something because I knew I was struggling but whether that something was counselling, psychotherapy or what I simply had no idea.

As well as not having much of an idea about what to expect from my psychotherapy, I also had no idea about how long it would take. And I was impatient! It is therefore with a surprise that I look back upon my two-year journey of weekly one-to-one psychotherapy with some degree of awe with regards to how little I really understood what I needed and for how long; from my initial impatience, a sense of appreciation and security developed from knowing that on Tuesdays, at 5pm, I would be seeing my psychotherapist.

Where I say that psychotherapy taught me how to live life, I mean this in the sense of courageously living rather than existing.

Prior to psychotherapy I approached life and relationships from a default fear position. Not that I knew that at the time – the way I was all seemed perfectly normal to me. Normal is, after all what we are familiar with.

However, part of me also know that I felt unfulfilled and lacking in purpose and meaning. Meaning in terms of my own desires and meaning in terms of what relationships could offer me.

It has been through a slow process of learning to be in relationship with my psychotherapist that I have slowly learnt to have a healthy relationship with myself. Through being held in mind, I have learnt to hold myself on mind. And through trusting that the relationship with my psychotherapist was and is genuine, I have come to accept that just perhaps, relationships with others have something to offer me.

I am now two years into my ‘ongoing’ psychotherapy relationship. It has been hard, frustrating, frightening, constructive, containing and life enhancing all in equal measure. The only commitment: we both show up each week for the session.

How have I changed

Most of all I have let go of the past. My experiences still happened, of course. There is no magic to undo that. However I have accepted that I can still have a life without having gotten what I needed as a child. And through this have come to accept that I can treat myself differently to how I experienced my parents treating me.

My relationship with myself

‘Has psychotherapy made you happy?’, people I know sometimes ask me. No. But then happiness is not the purpose of life. I do, however, at times feel content and even happy. More importantly, I am able to feel the full range of human emotions without running away from them. I can navigate my emotional world using my mind in a way I simply could not before psychotherapy and instead would use all sorts of distractions to avoid feeling.

My relationship to others

I have far deeper and more authentic relationships with others – something I now realise I avoided in the past for fear of them really seeing me and then rejecting me.

Relationships have become important to me and I am far more able to tolerate difference in those around me – to accept that they have different minds.

In summary

Put simply, my life now has substance. I know more about who I am, who I have been and how I spent much of my life hiding from myself and others because of not feeling accepted; I now have compassion for this part of me.

Mark is an integrative psychotherapist primarily informed by attachment theory and object relations psychotherapy. He works relationally and sees individuals and couples in Hove and Lewes.

January 2, 2019 by Brighton & Hove Psychotherapy Leave a Comment

Finding Intent in Criticism in Couple Communication

Cultural context

We are at a particular moment in our cultural and political narratives of relationship and identity where democracy itself seems under threat.

The assertion in some spheres of the perceived “right” to not be offended is at odds with the right (principle) of free speech in which there is always a risk of offence. We live increasingly in an age of “safe spaces” “trigger warnings” and narratives of victim hood and oppression. Now more than ever we need a relationship culture in which giving and receiving criticism is understood as a way to deepen connection and intimacy whilst simultaneously fostering emotional and psychological resilience.

In my last blog I wrote about the evolutionary context of criticism. How criticism could lead to ostracism, posing a threat to livelihood and even life itself. Whilst killing the criticiser is part of an evolutionary survival instinct, so open and compassionate listening in response to criticism is now an essential part of our evolutionary future.

In myriad subtle ways as social beings we organise ourselves to avoid the (life threatening)sting of criticism. We seek approval from our social groups through acts of conformity or denial. It is more often in our most intimate relationships that we reserve the right to unleash our most critical and savage selves… all in the name of love. Where there is love there is dependence and where there is dependence there is power.Understanding the balance and imbalance of power as a fact of life and love is important.

Power dynamics

Focusing solely on the content of our routine and familiar arguments with our partners is a way of missing the expressions of power and the underlying vulnerabilities they obscure. A major theme often at play is that of fear. For some this will translate as fear of losing the other(abandonment) whilst for others the fear will be of losing themselves (engulfment). This may translate into a relational dynamic in which one person, fearing abandonment is more likely to pursue or demand more (contact,closeness etc) from their partner whilst the other, fearing intrusion (exploitation )is more likely to maintain distance. We all emerge from our childhoods with different tolerances for connection.

When we perceive criticism from our partner it is all too easy (natural) to react defensively. How, in these moments might we become less reactive and more reflective, less combative and more collaborative?Firstly of course you have to decide that this is indeed what you would like to do…to lay down your weapons, so to speak, to relinquish the need to be “right” in favour of the desire to understand and value the other such that you might deepen your connection rather than remain locked in a state of division. When this becomes your shared intent you each take your responsibility for the health and well-being of your relationship.

Relational practice

When in conflict with your partner try holding in mind their best intent, hear them out , resist interruption or the desire for distortion. One voice at a time. Keep your energy on your partners story rather than your own defences. Imagine that your partner cares! Check that you have heard them by clarifying what you have understood. Be aware of your body language….are you listening or pseudo listening? Notice what happens, energetically ,in you, in your partner.

None of this is easy, but all of the above are relational tools that require practice to refine. Of course they also have the potential to become weapons to deploy. We are less under threat from criticism perhaps then we are of our failures to listen to the communications beneath. If we value democracy we need to practice it in our relationships.

Gerry Gilmartin is an accredited, registered and experienced psychotherapeutic counsellor. She currently works with individuals (young people/adults) and couples in private practice in Hove.

December 17, 2018 by Brighton & Hove Psychotherapy Leave a Comment

So what exactly is Mindfulness?

The term ‘mindfulness’ is much spoken about these days, especially in relation to mental health and wellbeing. But what does it really mean? Mindfulness generally relates to a meditation practice that has its origins in Buddhism. It is thought that the Buddha was practicing mindfulness when he gained enlightenment, and it is one of the key meditation practices for Buddhists.

However, the practice of mindfulness has been taken by psychologists out of its Buddhist origins and used as a technique to help with gaining better mental health and having a healthier and calmer outlook on life. Mindfulness is often used to help treat anxiety and depression, and is recommended by the NICE guidelines for people with depression to help prevent further depressive episodes.

How do I practice mindfulness?

To practice mindfulness is really quite simple. You just need to be aware of what is going on in your body, with your thoughts and emotions, and keep your focus trained on a meditative object such as your breath. Find a quiet place to sit, where you won’t be disturbed for a few minutes, close your eyes, and pay attention to your breathing. Notice the air coming in through your nose or your mouth. Notice how it feels, notice how your chest or abdomen rise and fall with each breath. Notice how your body feels different with each in-breath and out-breath. This seemingly simple practice is actually quite hard to do. You will notice that as you try to focus on your breath, your mind will start to wander. You’ll start thinking about things you need to be doing, planning your next activity, or wondering if you are doing it right. Also, you might start to notice feelings coming to the surface. Maybe you will feel anxious, or notice some sadness connected to an event that happened earlier in the day. When thoughts and feelings arise, all you need to do is to notice that they are there. Give them a label “I’m feeling sad” or “I’m planning” then bring your attention back to your breath. Do this gently and kindly. With regular practice, this will become easier, and you will find that your times of practicing mindfulness will become calmer and you will feel more peaceful. Also, you will start to notice how your mind wanders. You’ll notice the patterns of your thoughts and your emotions and you’ll become less entangled with them. After a while, you’ll start to realise that while you have thoughts and emotions, your are not your thoughts and emotions. They are part of you, but you don’t have to become consumed by them.

By having a regular practice of mindfulness, you can learn to regulate your emotions, and be able to tolerate more difficult emotions easier. You’ll also have more control over your thoughts and be able to step back from your thoughts when they are leading you to dark places. With time, mindfulness can help you become more compassionate to yourself and the others in your life.

And for how long?

It is often asked how often and for how long we should practice mindfulness meditation. The answer to this really depends on how much you want to commit to your wellbeing. A regular, daily practice is important. So try to practice every day if you can. In terms of duration, start small with about 5 – 10 minutes each day. Then start to work up to longer durations. Most people find that it will take about 20 minutes for the mind to really start to settle, and it is after that you will gain some of the deeper benefits of mindfulness. If you can, set aside 40-60 minutes each day to practice mindfulness. However, as we live in a busy world, setting aside this amount of time can be difficult, so if you can’t spare it, or just don’t want to do so much, stay with a smaller amount and keep your practice regular.

Mindfulness is a very important meditation practice that is accessible to all. The are many free videos and podcasts that will guide you in your practice, and many course available to teach it.

Combining mindfulness with psychotherapy is a very powerful way to understand your inner world and to make significant changes in your way of being in the world.

Simon Cassar is an experienced integrative existential psychotherapist and mindfulness practitioner providing long and short-term psychotherapy to both individuals and couples in Hove and Lewes.

December 10, 2018 by Brighton & Hove Psychotherapy Leave a Comment

On Embracing the Changing Seasons as a Metaphor for our own Change

So here we find ourselves again, verge of the end of another season and the start of winter; the long hot summer and seems a distant memory. The leaves still looked beautiful on the trees only a couple of weeks ago, replaced with bare branches.

Autumn is traditionally a time of transitions in this country – back to school after a long summer holiday, or university or work. A sort of extended Sunday evening before the onset of the long winter’s night.

And this can be difficult for some. Those unsettled feelings and a longing to go back to the seemingly carefree time of the summer. So why is this so? What is going on during a transition such as the changing of the season? Some people might say “well its simple – I just would prefer to be on holiday and so when I have to go back to work I feel miserable.”.

And that might well be the case. However, I do wonder about the function of the holiday if these feelings might just creep into another aspect of life anyway?

My supposition is that these unsettling experiences could be described as a kind of grief of one sort of another. This could be the ongoing existential grief of things constantly changing and the human struggle to make sense of that. Or it could be a more tangible grief like a death of a loved one that gets stirred up at these times of transition.

In my experience grief can often be behind difficult psychological experiences – the grief felt when someone dies, the grief of not having had a good enough experience of being parented, the grief of moving from childhood to adulthood, the complicated feelings around the realisation of mortality. It is all there in the human experience.

Not easy but important I think. I am reminded of a story I read about an oak tree that didn’t want to let go of his beautiful leaves in autumn. Eventually he was burdened and cramped by the old leaves which prevented any new growth. I think this is a very apt if painful metaphor for the idea that working through and letting go of difficult experiences or losses can allow new experiences and psychological growth to occur.

Julia Wright is a Gestalt psychotherapist with more than 15 years experience in psychotherapy and mental health and works with a diverse client group. She sees clients in Hove and Lewes.

December 3, 2018 by Brighton & Hove Psychotherapy Leave a Comment

Can We Really Feel Someone Else’s Pain?

Has a friend ever winced in sympathy when you’ve hurt yourself? Or have you had a physical reaction when witnessing someone else’s pain? Is this just an empathic response, or can we really feel each other’s pain? According to recent research[i], the answer is yes.

Researchers asked 44 participants to watch 16 movies depicting people experiencing injections or sports injuries. After each movie participants were asked if it triggered pain in their own body. Those who said yes were further asked to rate the intensity, the physical and emotional qualities of the pain, and whether the pain was localised or more general. In addition, while the participants were watching the movies, the researchers used fMRI (functional magnetic resonance imaging) to scan their brains. It was found that consciously experiencing the pain of others was surprisingly prevalent – about a quarter of all participants!

Mirror pain

Following on from this initial study, the researchers went on to explore in more depth the possible neurological underpinnings of this ‘mirror’ pain.

The original 44 participants were divided into their previous categories of Sensory/Localiser respondents, Affective/General responders and a control group comprised of the of Non-Responders. This time, participants were asked to look at 256 images depicting hands and feet going through different kinds of pain that one might experience in the real world (i.e. fingers being caught in a car door), paired with no-pain images (i.e. a hand closing a car door). After each image participants were asked to judge whether or not they experienced pain whilst viewing the image. Again, fMRI data was collected.

The researches had expected that the fMRI scans would show different brain activity in the two responder groups. Sensory/Localiser types were expected to demonstrate more activity in the somatosensory cortices (brain areas involved in processing touch). Affective/General types were expected to show more activity in brain areas such as the anterior insula, an area in the brain associated with emotions and motivation. However, this was not the case. Compared to the Non-Responders, all the participants who experienced either type of ‘mirror’ pain showed greater brain activity in all these areas. In spite of this, there were other differences that did emerge, particularly for the Sensory/Localiser sub-types. This was related to how different parts of the brain communicated with each other.

Confusing: what’s yours and what’s mine?

When the Sensory/Localiser types observed painful events, there was greater activity (compared to the Affective/General group) between the parts of their brain associated with interpersonal experience (anterior insula), and another part of their brain that is associated with the way individuals observe and process information (the right temporalparietal junction). What is understood from this unusual neural activity is that some people find it hard to distinguish other people’s experiences of pain from their own. Further studies are needed before the before the brain activity of Affective/General respondents is better understood. The researchers of this study conclude that increased activity within the pain matrix regions is a necessary and sufficient condition for the experience of vicarious pain. This is based on the notion that upon seeing pain, all individuals activate – to different degrees – the pain matrix.[ii]However only those that do so above a threshold of awareness have reportable pain-like sensations.

Feeling other’s pain

This piece has been a brief summary of what is a very complex area of research. We are only beginning to understand how the brain is involved in our experience of other people’s pain. However, even in these early days, it does appear to be the case that some of us really do feel the pain of others.

Jane Craig is an experienced chartered clinical psychologist working in the NHS and in private practice, using a variety of approaches depending on the problems you are facing. Jane sees clients from our Lewes practice.

[i]Grice-Jackson, Critchley, Banissy, Ward (2017) Frontiers of Human Neuroscience, ‘Consciously Feeling the Pain of Others Reflects Atypical Functional Connectivity between the Pain Matrix and Frontal-Parietal Regions’