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This is another chunk of our memory work essays, posted as promotion for the AllFam Kickstarter. Every $300 raised will get another 1000 words posted. We hit our first stretch goal of $2000, which means these essays will get illustrated and a special limited color Risograph print run! Thanks so much for all y'all's support, guys!

Previous Chunks: see index!

While it’s not on the bullet list of “never ever,” we also want to bring up the role of therapy in memory work. Most of what we’ve read shows multiples digging up memories while in their therapist’s office, and depicts this as the best way to do so. We deeply disagree, but we also seem to be unusual for that, so here’s our explanation.

Our healthcare team is an invaluable resource. They prescribe us meds to help us stay stable through memory work. They give us a sounding board to help make sense of memories after they’ve come up, and when we’re too impaired to be certain of our stability, they can give their professional opinion. We would not recommend embarking on memory work without a healthcare team, at least in reserve.

However. We avoid doing the actual work of digging up memories or reliving them while in their office. For us at least, a memory is most uncertain and prone to distortion or tampering when it’s coming up. It is also when we are most emotional, most overwhelmed, and least able to have a productive interaction with our therapist. (We only get one hour with him a week; we don’t want to spend it crying uncontrollably!) In our case, it really is best that we discuss the memories with our therapist after we’ve kicked the tires a bit and had at least a little time to come down.

Multiples have a history of highly enmeshed, codependent relationships with their therapists, up to seeing them as parent replacements and seeing them twenty hours a week, living with them in their homes, and generally being completely dependent on them for even the most basic stability. We’ve seen only scarce anecdotal claims that this is at all helpful; mostly, we’ve seen the opposite.

Putting your memory work process in the hands of a therapist gives them power that we think nobody should have. They can be your spotter, they can help ground you or seal memories or give meds that help, but under no circumstances should they be the ones in charge of your memory work. They are your employee, not your parent, and as helpful and valuable as they are, they should be neither your sole support nor irreplaceable. At a certain point, you have to be the one modeling love and care to yourself and your headmates, and nobody can do it for you. If you can’t build a sense of safety for memory work outside your therapist’s office, maybe you shouldn’t be doing it at all until you have a more robust support network, internal or external.

 

Dealing With Memories

 

Whatever method you use to try and get a memory up, preparing for it is roughly the same. Find your spotter and your safe place where you won’t be disturbed for an extended period of time; take care of food, drink, and bathroom first. Plunk yourself down and focus your attention on the memory.

For this task, your goal is to just let whatever comes up come up. Judgment and critical analysis will come later—you won’t be able to do both at the same time, not at first anyway. It’s critical, at this time, to listen to your mind as though it were a beloved if upset and unreliable friend: you may not believe what it’s telling you, but you can still be supportive and not act like a jerk.

Why is this attitude important? Because if you’re going to go through memory work effectively without wrecking yourself, it’s imperative you build trust between you and your mind. You have to make friends with your mind, and real friends give you answers you won’t like, be that, “something terrible happened” or “nothing happened” or “something did happen, but you don’t get to know what it is.” You don’t necessarily have to agree with those answers, but you do have to accept them and not shoot the messenger.

Ergo, if you’re using art or writing, just go with the urge and create. Try not to judge or edit what you’re doing; just do it, in whatever medium and form feels right, and when you feel you’re done, maybe take a good look at it, then put it away and let it be. (If you end up unable to make anything, skip to the next section.)

If you’re using headspace, turn your focus to the memory. How does it manifest? Try not to enforce a shape on it, and just take what comes to you naturally. Is it a landmark, a living thing, weather, something else? If it is obviously dangerous (say, an angry tiger), you’ll want to build some headspace or imaginary defense accordingly—a suit of armor, a safety line, magical wards, whatever suits you and works. But do not use aggressive means—don’t go building tiger traps. Similarly, if the memory takes a non-aggressive form that gives the very clear and obvious message of, “this is not for you” (say, a locked door), try to resist the urge to smash through it. That’s the wrong attitude. Defend yourself, sure, but do not go on the offensive.

Once you feel prepared, go to the whatever-it-is and try to engage with it gently—again, think of a beloved but deeply impaired friend. If it’s an inanimate locked door, see if you can use your willpower to gently nudge it open. Don’t try to force it. If the memory is something animate and interactive, it sounds corny, but asking, "Are you okay? Is there something you want?" might get the ball rolling.

If the whatever-it-is gets violent, do your best to protect yourself without getting lured into a distracting fight. Remember, this is your beloved friend; fighting won’t help anything. You’re here to listen, really listen, so it opens up of its own volition. (Or, alternately, so it has a way to communicate to you, “there’s nothing here,” or “there is, but you don’t get to have it.”)

The memory container might try to scare you off. It might blast you with pain and agony, look and act scary, or just throw a ton of nonsense at you. Don’t get mad, and don’t fight back—it’s your friend, and it’s very upset. Instead, layer yourself in passive defense and just try to sit and listen and let your mind know that however bad things used to be, they are safe and okay now.

(If they’re not, you have no business doing memory work. Make things safe and okay first, and go back to the Prep Work section.)

--to be continued in Chunk Eight
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