Group Therapy Nightmare

When my son was born in 1979, it quickly became clear that making my living as a professional free-lance musician was not going to work. Oddly timed, fluctuating jobs, which required a lot of daily practice, did not go together with taking care of a new baby. After collaborating with a career counselor, we identified that being a psychotherapist might be a good choice for me. I started immediately working on a master’s degree, double majoring in transpersonal counseling and creative arts therapy. When I finished, I continued on with my studies and received a Ph.D. in Women’s Psychology.

After completing my masters’ degree I hung out my shingle and began a 30-year career as a psychotherapist in private practice. It took a number of years to come into my own as a therapist. I had to discover my strengths and get help with my thin-skinned vulnerable weaknesses. I began to identify my career as a calling and saw it clearly as “soul” work. I gradually established a spiritual practice that encouraged people to be where they were and helped me expand my skills as a listener and witness. I became passionate about and dedicated to my work. Even the challenging aspects were fascinating to me as well as satisfying.

My strength and what I loved most was bringing symbols to life, especially through spontaneous drawings and dreams. My gift was facilitating group process. Sexual abuse was a continual theme throughout the years in my practice and I would guess about 75% of my clients had been 
 abused. Many presented with no awareness or memory of the abuse and then through our work with their symbols and feelings, the deep wounding would be revealed and the healing process would begin.

This story happened about 20 years into my work. I had two weekly therapy groups called “Women’s Dream Weaving Circles”. My story happened in the group that had been meeting with the same people for about 2 years. That group had become cohesive with a high level of sharing and trust. I would start each group with a guided meditation as we sat in a circle on the floor.

One day in our brief check-ins that followed the meditation, an older woman casually mentioned she had been sexually abused. She told this flippantly and laughed as if it was a funny joke. All the other women froze, stopped breathing and energetically pulled away from the woman and from the group. I knew in that instant it was going to be the hardest group I had ever facilitated.

With everyone coming unglued and wanting to leave, I focused initially on the group members. Slowly they opened up and said what had happened had felt like a betrayal--after being what they all thought was a safe place to be honest. They began to talk about the affect the glib presentation had on them. Even after talking and sharing feelings everyone was still pulling away from the woman and waiting for the time the group would be over so they could leave. I knew this situation was critical and the fracture could be the end of the group. I was painfully aware of what was happening and was trying hard to keep it from falling completely apart. 

I decided to give the group members the job of holding the energy of the Circle while I worked with the woman. They seemed to like having a focus outside of themselves. I asked the woman if she was open to working on what had happened for her. She readily agreed. As I began gently working with this woman it didn’t take long for lashing anger to come to the surface. The anger was powerful, clumsy and misdirected. I could feel the groups’ anxiety increasing even more than before. I had lost control of the group.

I asked the group members if it would be possible for them to send healing energy to the woman if she sat silently in the middle of the circle. I asked the woman if she would do that. Everyone reluctantly agreed. I was watching the clock along with everyone else—like every minute brought us closer to being able to get out of there. The whole thing was a mess!

The woman began to cry when she got into the center.  These people she had trusted were rejecting her because of the way she had shared this difficult issue in her life. I suspected she had gotten the same reaction by trusted others when the abuse was happening. I suggested that the group members hold hands to ground us and as a way of feeling solidarity. I felt inadequate and terrified that our group would terminate after we had just reached a point where some deep work could be done. Was being done. Was happening right then!

Just as I was completely void of ideas and had practically given up, I saw out of the corner of my eye the flash of a quick movement. My dog, Johnnie, was running at breakneck speed through the open double doors into the room. He jumped over the connected trembling hands of the group members and landed in the lap of the woman. In that instant the tension broke. Everyone began to cry with relief. I took a deep breath. Johnnie had rescued us from what had felt like an impossible situation. After that awful nightmare session, our group was much stronger and continued together for five more years.