Recently in Dissociation Category

Last week was our family vacation to the beach. I had mixed feelings about going. One of the reasons was that I had been "off the healing track" for months and felt like I was just getting things back on track in the couple weeks leading up to the trip. I did not want to upset that. Another, is that these days I find it almost impossible to sleep away from home without huge difficulties. But, I also saw the trip as an opportunity to have well-deserved together time with my wife and girls away from the daily routine.

The trip was precisely the mixed bag I had anticipated. Every night I had nightmares or very weird dreams (something I had not experienced for a long time). My Healing Guide (therapist) was, for the most part, "out of sight, out of mind." And I flirted with what I guess was denial, wondering what I could possibly have to heal from or why it wasn't over with already? That was not really a bad thing. We all need a vacation from work or from our troubles. During the days, I was quite engaged with the family and had virtually zero difficulties. We played paddleball on the beach, made sand castles, got a tan, played harmonica, and cooked lobster. So, by any measure, it was a success.

When I came home, though, the vacation meant almost nothing. The experience was lost. Even though I have the pictures, they very much have a "newspaper" feel to them.

Then, yesterday, I realized that I was in "robot mode." I was not really connected internally in any meaningful way. I was "off the track," which was something I wanted to avoid. I know that is not good. It puts me at risk. It means that I am more vulnerable to triggers. I am more apt to deal with things in a more fragmented way. My safety becomes jeopardized.

Funny how that happens, huh? Vacations are meant to recharge you so you can resume life with renewed vigor. That like never happens for me! I know this is not the first time dealing with this vacation issue. In June, I wrote Is This a Vacation or Allowing? where I thought I was taking what I thought was a "healthy" internal vacation, but it was not good for me. Last October, after being completely functional while my wife went away on her own vacation, I had a huge collapse that I wrote about in The Boat is Sinking or Is There Even a Boat?

Maybe part of the problem, if you want to call it that, is that we came back from vacation to some big changes. This week is the unofficial start to Fall. And I recently discovered I have an aversion to seasonal changes. The kids started school today. And work officially "ramps up" now for me, as I am on an academic calendar.

I know I have to find my equilibrium. I just get so disoriented so easily it seems. I will try to take it easy on myself. I will try to shift things away from fragmentation. I will try to get on the track again. I know the types of things that I can do to help. They entail checking-in internally, journaling, not throwing myself completely into work.

It is all about balance you know. Of course, those of us who dissociate, know that balance is difficult to achieve. I usually say it is difficult because we are trying to do it while riding a unicycle on a tightrope, backwards, blindfolded, chewing gum, in hundred mile hour winds. But the funny thing is that we can actually do it!

In Trauma and Sexuality, I wrote about sexual healing being a taboo subject in both the literature and in therapy. Nobody wants to talk about it. Yet it is one of the main areas where childhood sex abuse victims were damaged. It is my contention that since the problem is not addressed directly in the literature and in therapy, we discuss the issues tied to sex in an unconsciously masked kind of way. We can talk about being hurt sexually and what was done to us (and think we are talking about sex directly). About being suicidal. Depressed. Triggered. Switchy. And on and on.

But, while all important, these are symptoms of what is a core issue in the present. What is our relationship right now to sex? How is sex in the present dysfunctional? How is sex in the present hurting us? Helping us? Recreating? Overcoming? And how do all these questions about the present relate to the past?

I understand, I think, the essential barriers to talking about sex, even in the "safe" confines of the therapy office. For those of us sexually abused as children, our lives were generally focused on hiding the fact that we were being hurt in that specific a way. It should not be hard to appreciate that this is fertile ground for creating shame and guilt; stains on our soul which stay with us through adulthood and whose purpose seems to be only to deny us from seeking healing (or even thinking we are worthy enough to heal).

Not to mention those of us who were sexually abused were generally taught (we call them "rules") to behave a certain way in dealing with sex, through a number of manipulative means. As with any kind of learning, neuronal circuits are formed. Sex abuse ties in with reward, pleasure and fear circuits in the brain moderated by powerful neurotransmitters like dopamine. Literally, there is an imprint on our brains. These imprints are terribly difficult to heal from. But we can heal from them if we deal with them directly instead of dancing around the perimeter.

I contend that the first step in sexual healing is acknowledging the original sexual injury. The second step is being able to break down some of the guilt and shame barriers to talking about the subject. But there is more.

Obviously, each of us were affected in different ways sexually. Some of us become hyposexual and just run away from sex. Some of us become hypersexual. Neither of these extremes is necessarily bad as long as you are comfortable in them. But many are not comfortable with who they are sexually and simply do not know who they are sexually.

To further complicate matters, some of us use sex to recreate abuses, whether it be through fantasy or in real-life, though I do believe there is a marked difference between the two. In the literature, re-enactment (generally referred to as real-life) is a more commonly discussed sexual outcome. In these situations, we are continuing the cycle of abuse by placing ourselves in harmful psychological or physical situations (and, yes, even if in fantasy).

It can be understood in terms of neuronal imprints and in terms of being a way to manage overwhelming feelings. I believe it is probably likely that the degree of sexual re-enactment is correlated with degree of dissociation. With dissociative identities, parts were created for specific purposes and roles which are harder to move out of. Further, it is easier to realize how sex re-enactment solves certain problems (like being able to tolerate overwhelming feelings of "parts" of us) while isolating other parts of us (who are traumatized by the present-day behavior).

Those are explanations and not excuses. Since, in most cases, the original abuse is not happening anymore, we are responsible for our behavior. In this case, I think it is most aptly labeled as self-abuse behavior.

When one is able to label one's own re-enacting sex as self-abuse, then the third, perhaps the most important, step in beginning to achieve sexual healing is reached. We can achieve this only when we realize that the "positive" effects of recreating sex are dwarfed by the negative effects. And this takes a good deal of self-awareness and brutal internal honesty.

If we keep these three steps in mind—acknowledging original injury, overcoming guilt and shame, and labeling re-enactment as self-abuse—then we are making a great effort to heal. The prognosis, I think, is good.

While sexual healing may seem daunting, the good news is that once you have achieved all three steps, there is no going back. Yes, there are "setbacks", but once you gain awareness, you cannot lose it, you can only temporarily misplace it.

A huge disclaimer here goes without saying: I am not an expert. This post is based on my personal experiences and interactions with other survivors over the past 20 years. It is not meant to be a comprehensive, or even necessarily scalable view on the sexual effects of abuse. I think there is a good chance it may be quite scalable. But I do not pretend to assert that as fact.

Over a year ago, I began writing here, and trying to come to terms with, what dissociative identity disorder (DID) means, see related posts below. I have talked about the reality of dissociative identities. I have also talked about survivors being careful not to think it only means specialness, about there being a time and a place for using the dissociative language, and about personal responsibility.

In Dissociative Identities and Healing, I wrote that holding onto dual views of dissociation, both being an ingenious coping strategy as a child and a disorder as an adult, is a necessary step in healing. My case was simple: that one will not be motivated to change unless he or she sees that what has helped in the past is hurting in the present. I still stand by that basic stance.

However, I would like to shed some new light on that view. Sure, one can say that dissociative identity disorder (or any of the dissociative disorders) or post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) are indeed disorders, a term that is used synonymously with mental illness and disease.

But, I offer a few different views, which have helped me, and which you may appreciate.

The first is that the term disorder is not as bad as one may think. Creativity is most often associated with being able to "think outside the box." The proverbial box is all about order. This one helps me a lot. But there is a big caveat. As long as you do not think this means dissociation is only helpful in the present, you can be okay with this. I am just pointing out that not all disorder is bad and putting disorder in context.

If that does not make you feel more comfortable, then consider the thermodynamic quantity of entropy, which is crudely thought of as a measure of disorder in a physical system. All physical systems have a measure of physical disorder and zero entropy can only be achieved at absolute zero, which can only theoretically be achieved. This one helps me a lot, but you may not like science as much as I do.

One arrives at perhaps the "trump card" view by accepting that dissociative coping as children is a common reaction to a physical, emotional or sexual assault. In that sense, all manifestations of dissociative coping and post-trauma stress could be easily viewed as an injury. In sexual abuse lawsuits or criminal suits, the language is all about injury. Injury is often defined as damage done to the structure or function of the body by an outside force. For me, this could not be more valid and this is the view I hold onto most often.

Hold onto any view of dissociation or post-traumatic stress that feels right to you. But it is important to make sure you do not use a more palatable view that serves to provide a reason to put a stop to your healing journey. Whether you call what you live with a disorder or an injury, we must all call upon ourselves to heal. To find peace. To find wellness.

Related Posts:

• Does Dissociation Make Us Special? (June 2009)

• Is Dissociative Identity Disorder Real? (January 2010)

• Dissociative Identities and Healing (March 2010)

In my last post titled Inside from the other day, I wrote about how the Art Therapy work I did with My Healing Guide last week in the hospital helped us reconnect in a way that had been sorely lacking for a while.

That disconnection was really not the fault of either of us. I realize the whole post was meant to tell a story that led to an optimistic outcome of reconnection. That post, however, did not represent the complete picture. While the result of that process was one of reconnection to the healing path, that connection did not at all stick. Dissociation and inability to ground (as well as basic necessities like eating and sleeping) were constant battles.

Partly, the drivers that led to the disconnection in the first place were due to the fact that we had been through a really intense and emotional period of six months, most of which was documented here. In December, our system came together to create a Contract (which we also call our "Statements of Truth"). In March, My Healing Guide and I made a visit to the church where a lot of childhood abuse happened. This helped us deal with Easter in a more holistic manner, even though I spent that time in the hospital. There was also the worldwide Catholic Church scandal as well as a family crisis thrown into the mix.

On Monday morning in Art Therapy, the directive was to draw our relationship to treatment. As you can see from the image above, I felt quite split about that question. On one side, I felt as through there was this sense of blending of colors and views, held within a container of grounding brown. But on the other, there was pure black chaos. The two sides felt completely separate.

Fortunately, sometimes such tension can be a good thing because something had to give. The crux of my problem has been that there is a part of me, a seriously self-harming part, who has seemingly not been in any sort of alliance with the healing journey we have been on for the past couple years. I recently realized that the more progress we made on healing, the more this part was left out. I also realized that my words saying that I was open to meeting this part halfway were not really coming from a place of true meaning.

Well, all that changed, quickly and dramatically.

On Monday evening, I wrote a multi-page letter to this part ending in directed questions meant to learn more and open the door of collaboration and inclusion. On Tuesday morning, I discovered there had been several text messages sent from this part to My Healing Guide during the previous night.

On Tuesday afternoon, this part came out and met with My Healing Guide for most of our session. So much happened. Many perceptions were completely shattered. Amongst many other revelations, this part declared she was not evil like we all thought, but rather a hurt child. She wanted to be part of the healing.

Tuesday night I tried to write down what I remembered from the session. Clearly something enormous happened. That evening there was all kinds of internal chatter about what all of this meant. Many parts did not trust that she could be brought into our healing circle. Many saw it as some elaborate trick just to get out of the hospital. Some saw it simply as not being real.

Wednesday was spent trying to rest and regain strength, and have this huge change settle in our system a bit. That has continued through today. The aftershocks have been large. The chatter has persisted, as well as the doubt, and some parts are still very scared.

But there are signs of trust.

In Art Therapy today, the directive of "draw a nest" led to a very clear image, all done in charcoal. Balanced in the nest were circles representing parts coming out of the nest much the same as depicted in Towards a Model of Dissociation. But it was clear where the "new" part was. She was the furthest away from the nest, but still connected to all the rest.

Tomorrow, I will leave the hospital. Despite all the recent huge changes, which I could equate to an earthquake, I feel like I am finally on solid ground.

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From 1948-1975, Walt Kelly was well known for writing comics that were based on social and political satire. One of his main characters, Pogo, is a possum and was the smartest animal in the community of swamp animals that made up the comic strip.

One of Pogo's more famous quotes was "We have met the enemy... and he is us." The quote has its origins in war, but Kelly used it as commentary on how humankind was polluting the planet.

Now I do appreciate that when healing from child abuse, such a statement can rub many the wrong way. To many, the enemy is the abuser. But, for me, I am in a particularly challenging place right now. When dissociative coping massively escalates—and by that I mean dissociated parts become activated, start acting autonomously, and I lose large chunks of time which threatens safety—then I cannot help but come to the conclusion that the enemy is indeed myself.

Dissociative coping, splitting, and creating multiple personalities are all wonderfully adaptive when a child and into adulthood. But, when you have made that commitment to awareness and communication and healing, and then it feels like that has all been taken away, you cannot help but have a negative view about the underlying mechanisms that drive how we live our lives. That is where I am at now. So, I am not a big fan of dissociation right now.

I see myself squarely as the enemy. And I'm not talking about specific parts of me. I am really not out to pick fights with specific parts. I am talking about the "all of me." Right now, I'm having trouble seeing the healing path. I only see confusion as we ever so quickly move away from being a quasi "internal team" and leap into our own corners.

I have a huge fear that this shift in me is not the normal ebb and flow of healing. That it will be a permanent shift (or very long term shift).

Luckily, Pogo has another famous line. And that is: "Don't take life so serious, son, it ain't nohow permanent." Maybe that way of thinking will be able to keep me going.

I know, that is a provocative question.

I have had 20 years of being diagnosed as multiple or DID (dissociative identity disorder) and have worked on healing, in various ways, for all that time. I know that I am clearly very different now than I was 20 years ago. I suppose many people—multiple or not, abuse history or not—can make that claim. Of course, I am continually reminded that in many ways I am very much the same.

How my system "works" has changed, mainly because of the increased awareness I have cultivated over the past several years. This has led to increased levels of internal communication, some inter-part compromising, and, yes, very "public" internal battles.

Another change is that a few in my system have had their names clarified over the years. I am not sure how that happened really. And some have become quiet. And then there is the experience of co-consciousness. To me, even though all of these are part of the healing and evolution process, they are also the seeds that sow doubt about my experience. I sometimes struggle with this, concluding that the whole experience of DID is a complete sham. But I hold onto things like Is Dissociative Identity Disorder Real? and I am always working on accepting my truth.

As I heal, and I do think I am healing, I can visualize the core of "me" growing and taking on what the rest of me used to hold in compartments. In one sense, I think that is a sort of integration or merging. I have had parts of me who absolutely hated being identified with me, Paul, in any way, shape or form. That is happening less now.

I have never appreciated the view that integration is something that happens in a sort of fusion in a one hour appointment in a therapist's office. That is not my experience.

I say that because I did have a series of experiences of what I called my Higher Consciousness Experience. One could make the case that such an experience is integration in its purest form. And I postulated that those of us with dissociative disorders would be most affected by such experiences because our internal structure has been in such opposition. In other words, we have farther to go internally than many others, so we would feel these consciousness states as being drastic leaps from where we usually are. I have labeled these experiences as "touchstones" and they do motivate me to continue this work. I like to use the analogy that it might be like taking a trip up into space, and then returning. Or, another more real-life example could be when my first child was born. Not only did time stand still, it was a completely unifying experience.

So, back to integration. The question I often ask: Is my approach of taking on more and more scalable and sustainable?

I often get overwhelmed with what I have to deal with internally. My Healing Guide has said "You can't do it all yourself." And she is correct. There is the view that parts are sometimes happier with my taking the load off them, as long as they get to retain their separateness and their "identity."

But, honestly, I think they are mostly meeting me halfway. Meeting halfway is the key. If I do it all myself and take all of the responsibility, my cup will simply runneth over.

So, I have called what I am doing, for now, a "collaboration." It makes more sense to me.

Is integration possible? I do firmly believe that anything is possible. Although, I am not really sure what that would look like for me.

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Related External Post: The Rocky Road of Integration by Dr. Frerichs at Multiple Voices.

It is difficult not to pay attention to the stream of news regarding clergy abuse in the Catholic Church. It is on all the major news sites I frequent, plus the Survivors Network of those Abused by Priests issues daily e-mail press releases.

I really do not want this blog to become about clergy abuse. That is not at all my intention. My focus here is squarely on understanding trauma and dissociation particularly as they relate to my own healing.

But I do have to comment when I read something that begs for comment. I feel like it is sort of my public duty. So let me hop onto my blog soapbox for a moment.

The latest news is that Pope Benedict met with clergy abuse victims during a trip to Malta and 'weeped.' The news story included a press statement from the Vatican, which was telling:

One does not need to know much about any facet of this ongoing saga to know that everything said in that statement, after "he prayed with them," is demonstrably untrue.

It is also interesting as to who these "victims" are. They were undoubtedly hand picked and expected to say things like "[I am] trying to regain my faith." But those seeking to restore faith through the Catholic Church do not represent the vast majority of those abused. What about those whose faith has been shattered? Whose spirituality has been twisted by conflicting messages, teachings, and actions? How can that spirituality possibly be truly restored within the walls and constructs of an institution with such weight as the Catholic Church?

I struggle. In my head mostly. And I write. And I talk. And I pay attention. And I draw and paint.

The image above was done as an art therapy directive last week right after leaving the hospital. The directive was to "paint about something lost and something gained." What I lost is a spiritual direction. What I gained is a family, and an ability to ground and contain, and heal.

I know that someday these two sides will have to intersect. I cannot imagine that now, but perhaps they already are. I have had experiences of spirituality not tied to any religion. If you look at the early posts on this blog, you will read about my "consciousness" or "enlightenment" experiences. I also know that parts of my internal system have had similar wondrous experiences that were tied to religion. They were protected for those parts. But as I do the hard work of looking at myself as a whole, I cannot help to know they were really taken away.

That reality poses a huge dilemma for me. It is also one of the big questions that those of us with dissociative disorders have to face.

It could be asked in this way: How do I integrate parts of myself that were protected with parts of myself that were not without going crazy?

Or it could be asked in a much simpler way: How do I heal?

Perhaps this journey, partly documented here, is my spiritual path. Perhaps I am meant to heal. Perhaps I am meant to live.

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I knew the Christian season of Lent was going to be challenging this year. It always is. But I had a number of important clues for why this one would stand out from the rest. For one, I have a level of internal awareness now that I have not ever had before. For another, internal parts that have dealt with religious issues have been active to a degree I have not experienced in well over a decade. I have had to attend to them, and since things are different now, the way I attend has taken on new significance.

This religious season did not start out well. And I was quite discouraged. On the very first day of Lent, Ash Wednesday, there was a self-harm event that completely caught me off guard. I had somehow not remembered the importance of that day, even though we had talked about it several times in therapy. But parts inside clearly remembered. I then rededicated myself to do better and work more collaboratively to keep "all of me" safe.

My therapist and I have been planning for Easter beginning back at the turn of the year. And, in fact, one of the steps we discussed was going back to the church where a lot of my childhood abuse happened (see photo above). We knew this was a huge step, not to be done without careful consideration. But specific parts were very vocal in asking for it. We talked about all the pros and cons and thought it through carefully. And we waited and resisted the temptation to do it impulsively. We went together a couple weeks ago. The experience was validating, but there were all kinds of different responses. For the first few days, it was all seen as only a healing experience. But then one younger part thought it meant we can now go back to that church and even participate in the ceremonies (presumably as an altar boy). Other parts, particularly those who dealt with the more extreme conflicts about religion, were not heard from for at least a week. That troubled me. When I did finally hear from them, they were not happy, which is the mildest way I can describe their responses.

Immediately after going to the church, the clergy abuse scandal in Europe escalated. This was not any surprise to those of us who have dealt with this for a long time. But it has been big news for the scandal to reach the steps of the Vatican. The news has seemed relentless to me. As I wrote in Thoughts on the Catholic Church Abuse Reports a couple weeks ago, I know bringing abuses into the light of day will lead to healing and increased safety of children. But such news has always been destabilizing for me. That it comes right in the middle of the holiest time of the year, makes it even more so.

On March 19th, Pope Benedict read publicly a letter apologizing for abuses in Ireland. Last year, he read a similar letter during his visit to the United States. But the words were typical, saying some bishops made some "errors in judgment." And there were only words, not action. Then on March 24, the New York Times broke a story that the pope, then a cardinal, was the person who stopped church investigations of a Wisconsin priest who was accused of abusing hundreds of boys at a deaf school. The Times article said:

Swiss President Doris Leuthard has called for a central register of pedophile priests in her country. We would do well to have one in the United States as well. In fact, I would go so far as to say that there should be a special offender registry in the cases of any civil action of child abuse (in any church or organization, such as the Boy Scouts). There currently exists none. And in the Catholic Church, since civil cases were filed and settled with the Church, there are no civil authority records on most all priests. Most are listed by the non-profit group Bishop Accountability, but that is not the best solution for protecting children. I believe our sex offender registries are a bit of a joke, since someone can be on it for misdemeanor lewd conduct having nothing at all to do with a child, yet a defrocked, civilly sued, pedophile priest with dozens of victims, is not on the registry. That inequity is not in the best interest of protecting children. So, our governments must hold some responsibility in all of this and need to step up.

To slightly change the subject, but to give an idea of how disconnected the Catholic Church is from reality, Pope John Paul II's track to sainthood is being questioned. The former pope died five years ago. One requirement for sainthood is that there needs to be two attributed miracles. Here's one miracle in his file: A nun in France, had prayed to the pope for relief from what was believed to be Parkinson's disease. Two months after the pope died, she had a medically unexplainable cure. That's probably a miracle to someone, but how is it attributed to him? Recently, there has been news saying that she may not have suffered from Parkinson's at all, but rather another neurological disease which can be cured. Talk about misplaced priorities!

So much is happening at the same time for me. I am being inundated with Catholic Church news, which normally I do not pay much attention to. Inside feels like it is all rushing to a head coinciding with Easter. I have, as a result, been losing lots of time to dissociation, orders of magnitude more than usual. I know I have been psychologically switching self states like a revolving door. I also know that most of the time I am able to show to outsiders (including family) that I appear to be totally normal. This is validating in a sense, because it makes me realize how it was possible for most of my youth. That ability, really, is what dissociation was designed to do (and I will write more about this later).

In the process, safety—that overarching responsibility of mine—is being severely tested. I am trying my best to navigate through all of this muck. I am utilizing all my grounding and coping skills. But I am acutely aware that all of my best efforts may not quite be enough this week.

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Nearly a year ago, I wrote in this post the following:

In fragmented personality systems such as found in those of us with dissociative identity disorder, I think it is fair to say that, as a general rule, different parts tend to operate autonomously.

Of course, I am not denying that there are connections between the parts of the system. The connections are generally either loose or strict; rarely are they moderated and balanced. An example of a loose connection would be parts who do not know about other parts, or will do anything to push away other parts. Strict connections are usually the reverse, where parts will have strong alliances for the purpose of emotional protection, even if that means the body gets hurt through self-harm.

There are always very valid reasons for both types of connections. For example, in many systems, parts need to not know about other parts because behaviors or beliefs or feelings of some are intolerable to others.

The seeds of change are sown when one becomes aware that such a dissociated approach to living is getting in the way of living, let alone living well, or is putting us at risk of dying. Every dissociatively disordered person who attempts to heal, I believe, has learned that the coping that has governed their life has become a problem. In healing, we celebrate our ingenious coping strategy which without doubt saved our lives and our sanities. But we also accept that our remarkably adaptive strategy has become a disorder. I know this may bother some; that I am perhaps devaluing what was originally achieved. But, I really am not. My experience is that holding onto both is a crucial step in healing.

Why does this brilliant solution have to lead to a disorder? I know there is a group of multiples who are perfectly content living as multiples. But most dissociative systems do not evolve and lead to that destination. My belief is that as the dissociative child ages, internal connections become more rigid. On the one hand, alliances become stronger. But, on the other, some parts can become more antagonistic. This is, to my mind, a more common evolution. Parts were created for a purpose. They serve their purpose well. They keep doing what they do well. And, low and behold, habits form (if you want to use that word) and a way of navigating the world becomes firmly established.

One can easily say such an evolution can be applied to almost everyone, and they are probably right. But for the dissociative, the cost is usually a little higher, and the structure is a bit different.

Learning to break down dissociative barriers—and undertake the process of healing—is monumental work. I have written many times here about what the elements of that healing are. Some that come to mind are acceptance, responsibility, overall safety, balance, feeling, intellectual understanding, and love. I have also written about concrete steps to achieve each, chief among them is cultivating awareness through journaling, drawing, and any other form of internal communication, as well as increasing tolerance to emotions.

I thought I would share something I wrote many years ago and came across this past weekend—the motivation for this post. This letter was one of the first steps I took on the road to healing. I wrote it to "My Anger," but in reality it was a specific part with a specific name and I don't feel so comfortable sharing that here.

Maybe this was not the kindest or even the best letter I could muster. But it was a start. And I have not looked back since.

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There has been a push from inside over the past couple years to do more "meaningful photography." What I mean by "meaningful" is work that speaks to my own experiences more fully. Put another way, I want to do photography that is psychologically aware.

I got interested in photography around the time my kids were born; that was more than a decade ago. And since the kids were the focus for so many years, photography had been mostly about happiness and documenting happiness.

It didn't take me long to realize that photography was about seeing and not just looking. For someone who had lived a life based on dissociation, this was a real breakthrough and insight for me; a small first step in healing and becoming aware.

I have developed what was a small hobby into something a bit larger. I do some portrait work professionally, but my main interest has been photojournalism and sports which I shoot for local news outlets. Portrait work is intensely personal and requires a huge amount of "presence," engagement with the subjects, and directing. Sometimes I am simply not able to do that, which poses a problem if people have made appointments with me. So, I tend to minimize those kinds of assignments now. I sometimes become scared and forget all my skills and the images come out quite lousy, at least by my standards. It's too unpredictable, because sometimes I can be perfectly "on" and sometimes I can be "not at all there."

Photojournalism, in contrast, is a style of photography that is more detached and a bit less personal, but one could argue has a larger payoff because the images look spontaneous. The idea behind a photojournalism style of photography is that you become an impartial observer and document the details of the event. Mostly, the goal is to document all the scales of detail that you "see", from those that most everyone would recognize as the describing the event to those small elements that nobody really pays any attention to (e.g., the little kids poking their heads out from under the Bride and Groom's head table). It is really the only way to shoot live sports or any event where there are people going about their business.

Photojournalism is a microcosm of what healing from dissociation is all about. To see an event photographically, you must be prepared to do it from an "all of you" perspective. From this whole perspective, you can capture not only the range of length scales (from macro to micro) but also the range of human emotions. Sports is one great example, because there is always "the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat." Another is a wedding. And a third is any news event.

The photograph above was taken at a local elementary school's art show. I took many real-life people pictures at this event. But as I was looking at some of the art on display done by children, I stumbled upon this scene. In a self-portrait of a boy, I saw the reflection of other framed artwork several feet away. There were rows of art on display, and if I had to do this over again, I would have swapped out the reflected images that weren't self-portraits with ones that were. One of the tricks of photojournalism is that if you can unobtrusively change the scene, you assume you have the authority to do so, granted to you by your press badge, and just do it.

The obvious composition of this image would have been to focus on the boy, and the reflected images would blur. But that's what you see with your eyes and that would be boring. That image would scream "amateur mistake" because who would want reflected images in the background? Since there was no way to remove the reflections from the flourescent lights, I had to think about it in a different way and see beyond the obvious.

This is an image I would never had been able to make just a few years ago. I took me a while to get the meaning of what the reflections were telling me, for my eyes did not see this interpretation. Once I did, I composed the frame with the boy and the green background, focussed on the reflected images and opened the aperture to wide open at f/2.8, knowing that would blur the boy's face. Then, of course, the other trick to photojournalism is to not be shy to shoot because with digital, images are essentially free. So, I fired off about 30 other frames with various compositions and exposures. Then later I can decide which image works best.

There are multiple meanings behind this image. On one level, it could say that nobody really sees the boy as he is (i.e., he's a blur). On another, it could say that behind the boy is a complex world with various compartments and other selves.

What does this image say to you?

For those who are interested, there are some excellent books on photographic "seeing" and composition. They are:

• Andreas Feininger, Principles of Composition in Photography (1972, not in print so you would most likely find it at a local library)
• Michael Freeman, The Photographer's Eye (2007)
• Freeman Patterson, Photography and the Art of Seeing (1985, but updated in a 2004 edition)
• Bryan Peterson, Learning to See Creatively (1988, but updated in a 2003 edition)
• Henry Poore, Pictorial Composition in Art (1976 and still in print)

For other psychologically meaningful photographs on Mind Parts, see my Photography Gallery.

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