As I mentioned in last week’s blog, Lizzie sat out part of the first day’s ride; this caused me to muse about the whole business of lack of confidence, something I have in fact struggled with myself over the years. So, during the ride between second lunch and St Austell, I got to thinking about a therapy patient I saw a long while ago over several years. This patient had deep emotional problems, in part caused by an abusive partner who ridiculed her, leaving her bereft of any sense of self-worth; in other words, she was a victim of emotional abuse. Consequently, she found it very difficult to engage with the world and arrived in my consulting room extremely angry because one therapist she consulted told her that they would not work with her because she could not afford the fee. Naturally this compounded her sense of worthlessness. I saw her on a reduced fee although I was criticised for doing so by some of my fellow therapists. Month after month she pleaded with me to show her the secret of confidence or to give her confidence as if it was a gift I could bestow and my withholding it, as it appeared to her I did, was an abusive and depriving act. Her fantasy was, I was a totally together individual abounding in confidence; little did she know!
Eventually after a very long time, she realised that the only way to progress in her life and break out of her personal prison was to have a go, and so tentatively she got herself a voluntary position with an organisation and was progressing quite well and gaining in confidence, until a paid position came up for which she applied unsuccessfully. This was a devastating blow to her still fragile ego. In our sessions we almost, but not quite, went back to where we had started. However, she did survive this demoralising set back as she had survived my apparent withholding of the gift of confidence and to cut a long story short, she managed to get employment and started to rise through the ranks of the organisation she joined.
Finally, the great day came when she said to me, “I think I am OK now and I don’t need to come and see you anymore.” I concurred and felt that to try to keep her in therapy would be counterproductive. So, we had a few concluding sessions to tie up loose ends, and she left. I was pleased to see her go because I felt that she could indeed walk the next part of her journey without my support but I was also sad to see her go as I had grown fond of her and the journey had been a two-way experience, I too had grown through our relationship.
As a therapist I see myself as a wounded healer and so I have learned that confidence comes through taking risks and trying to extend myself; to use a cycling analogy, if I fall off my bike the best thing to do is get straight back on and ride despite the cuts and bruises.
The last part of the first day’s route took us past Hewas Water after which we left the winding B roads, which we had ridden for most of the day, and joined the A390 for a six-mile ride along the main drag into St Austell. The very last part of the ride was up a fairly steep climb which was the last thing any of us wanted and I for one thought it was never going to end; of course, it did. I had ridden up every hill that first day, so go me!
Naturally the climb had caused our group to fragment and I was, as usual, the last to arrive at our destination, The Bugle Inn, which turned out to be a very pleasant pub with good food and beer and a live band. After a hearty pub meal and a couple of pints I decided to listen to the band for a bit before turning in. They seemed to take forever to set up and then all disappeared for a while only to reappear around 9.45pm when they finally started to play. As it turned out they were a good pub band, but I was knackered and so I went to bed relatively early after listening to only a handful of songs. When I got upstairs I put in some ear plugs but I could still recognise the tunes the band was playing from the comfort of my bed, which seemed to vibrate along with the bass line. They played until midnight! Julia and I gave up attempting to go to sleep and instead played, “Name that Tune,” not quite what one wanted when trying to get a good night’s sleep.
“And there was morning and there was evening the first day.” (loosely based on Genesis 1: 5)
Ezekiel's Wheels 