Pickled Therapy

Student: Thank you again for your permission to record our session today. As my supervisor mentioned, it will help me with my practicum.

Patient shuffles nervously in his chair.

Supervisor writes something down on her notepad.

Student thinks, ‘Wait. She’s already writing stuff down? What did I do wrong?’

Doubts swirl around in Student’s head. It’s her dream to be a counseling psychologist, but lately, she’s been questioning her ability to obtain her doctoral degree and, eventually, her license.

Ever since Student started her practicum, her supervisor hasn’t given her one ounce of praise. Most of her supervisor’s feedback comes in the form of frowns and thumbs-downs. The most encouragement Student has received was a thumbs-sideways, and that was only for a Starbucks she’d brought her supervisor one day.

Student wishes that just once, Supervisor would turn that thumb upward.

Supervisor clears her throat expectantly.

Student realizes she’s supposed to be saying something, but she’s so nervous she can’t remember what. She tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear and adjusts her cardigan to buy some time while she thinks.

Student: As we begin today, what feels most present for you? What’s at the forefront of your mind?

Patient: I just got out of an abusive relationship last month. And ever since then, I’ve been struggling to find myself.

Student: Ok, let’s talk about that. How long were you in the relationship for?

Patient: A little over three years.

Student: And how did you meet?

Patient: I met Vinegar—Vin, I called her—at a party. It was love at first sight, and we were pretty much inseparable from that night on. I would go to her jar all the time, and we’d hang out and... I don’t know, just be together. It felt like heaven just being with her.

Student: It sounds like you and Vinegar had a really special bond.

Patient: We did.

Patient looks reflective.

Student remains silent. She glances at Supervisor, whose expression is unreadable.

Patient: She treated me really good at first. She’d take me out to all these fancy restaurants and exclusive nightclubs, and she’d surprise me with all these little gifts. Just because. I was sure she was the one. My soulmate... But things went sour when I moved into her jar. I was so sure she was my soulmate that I didn’t even think it over when she asked me to move in. But looking back, it was way too soon. Like, two months after meeting her, Doc.

Student: Remember, now, I’m not a doctor. I’m a student. This is part of my practicum.

Patient: Oh, right, I forgot. Anyway, yeah, things changed when I moved into her jar.

Student: How long after you moved in did you notice the change?

Patient thinks for a minute.

Patient: It’s hard to stab a toothpick in it because the change was so gradual... She just started treating me differently. It felt like every opinion I had was stupid and everything I wanted to do was boring. She would belittle me. Just make me feel small... Now that I’ve had time to think about it, I think everything before I moved in was a lie.

Student: What do you mean by that? What part was a lie?

Patient: The whole thing, in a way. I don’t think she ever really liked me. I think she just saw someone who was young and in love and could be molded into her ideal partner. Which essentially meant making me as much like her as possible. And I feel like it worked. I feel like I kind of turned into her a little bit.

Student: That makes a lot of sense. When you spend three years in a relationship with someone, it’s natural to feel like they left a mark on you.

Patient: No, you don’t quite understand, Doc.

Supervisor: I will remind you again that she is not a doctor but a student. If you call her Doc one more time, you will be asked to leave.

Patient: Sorry. Anyway, it goes deeper than just a mark. I feel like Vin literally, physically seeped into me, and now I can’t get her out.

Student: How did that manifest?

Patient: Sorry, I don’t understand. Could you ask that again?

Supervisor looks to Student and raises an eyebrow, like, ‘Seriously? That’s how you asked that?’

Student feels heat rush to her face as Supervisor makes a note in her notebook, probably something like ‘lack of clarity/rapport.’

Student wonders how she’ll ever become a practicing psychologist if she can’t even ask a basic question. What made her think she could be a counseling psychologist? Why is she so stupid?

Student: When you say Vinegar seeped into you, what did that look like? Was it certain things she would say to you? Certain behaviours?

Patient: Mostly, it was the way she controlled my life. The way she monopolized my time... Looking back, I guess the first red flag was when she told me to quit my job and let her support me financially. She was born into money, by the way. That’s how she could afford the fancy restaurants and stuff. Anyway, I thought it was a pretty sweet deal, but I can see now that she wasn’t taking care of me. She was trying to trap me. Because then she started making me give up other things. Things that were important to me. Like, she kept telling me my dream of being a singer was stupid until I finally gave it up. And she convinced me that all my friends were toxic, and she made me cut them out of my life.

Student: That must’ve been hard, to feel like someone else is making all your big life decisions for you.

Patient: It was. But it wasn’t just the big stuff. It was everything. She made me do things I had no interest in, like doing yoga and watching RuPaul’s Drag Race. She decided all our meals. I couldn’t even shower alone. She had to be there with me, essentially coaching me. When we went on road trips, we always had to listen to her music. And, like, half the songs on her playlist were Florence + The Machine. I mean, sure, they’re a pretty good band, but when they come on every other song for six hours straight, you start kind of rooting for a head-on collision, just so it’ll stop... Anyway, somewhere along the way, I lost myself because I was basically brainwashed into believing that what I wanted didn’t matter.

Student: And at the time, did you ever suspect you were being abused?

Patient: I don’t know. Maybe subconsciously? Maybe I knew but didn’t want to admit it. I would tell myself it was a trade. I was living off her dime, and in return, I did whatever I could to make her happy... But that might only be in hindsight. Like I said, it was gradual. Like, all the stuff I just said was over three years, so it made it hard to see that I was being mistreated.

Student: That makes sense. Often, it takes time for victims of domestic abuse to realize what’s happening, especially if the abuse isn’t extreme or physical.

Patient stares out the window, looking thoughtful.

Patient: Yeah... Maybe it was kind of like that experiment where they put a frog in some water and then slowly turn up the heat. And because the heat increase is so gradual, the frog never jumps out, and it gets boiled alive.

Student: But you jumped out.

Patient: Yeah.

Student: What made you jump?

Patient opens mouth but doesn’t speak for a time.

Patient: Sorry. It’s hard to talk about.

Student: It’s ok. You don’t have to talk about it if you’re not comfortable.

Patient: I want to talk about it. It’s just hard.

Student: Ok. Take your time.

Patient swallows.

Patient: One night when we went out, I forgot to vacuum-lock the lid on the jar—you know, so that the freshness seal thing doesn’t pop up? And Vin was already in a bad mood. I don’t know why, but she was in a bad mood all day. And she had too much to drink at the club. And when we got home and she noticed the lid... She lost it on me. She had shouted at me before, but not like this. This was like she was someone else. She yelled at me like I’d killed her mother. She called me rotten, and told me how stupid I was. And I just took it. I didn’t stand up for myself. I just told her I was sorry for being so stupid. And then... She struck me!

Patient bursts into tears and cries for several minutes.

Patient: And I was so scared because I didn’t think I had anywhere to go. I had alienated everyone who ever cared about me. And I remember wanting to cry but holding it in because I was afraid she’d hit me again to shut me up.

Patient weeps for another two minutes, then takes a long breath.

Patient: Wow, I needed that. I’ve been holding that in for a long time.

Student: How does it feel to finally let it out?

Patient: Really good.

Patient sniffles.

Student hands Patient a box of tissues, but Patient cannot accept it because he has no arms.

Student returns the box of tissues to the table and sort of fluffs up the one that’s sticking out, just to be doing something with her hands. But this only makes the whole room feel even more awkward.

Supervisor writes something on her notepad. She does not look impressed.

Student starts to think she has zero chance of getting her degree.

Patient blinks the last tears away.

Patient: But, yeah, I was still scared of Vin the next morning. And even though she apologized, I knew I’d never feel safe around her after she hit me. So, I gathered my courage, told her I deserved better, and I left. I haven’t been in contact with her since.

Student: And how did that make you feel, to tell her that you deserved better?

Patient: I don’t know. I felt... powerful, I guess. Like I was reclaiming myself.

Student: That must have felt really good.

Patient: It did. And I was a little scared because the only place I could think to go was back to my vine in the garden where I grew up, and I didn’t know if I’d be welcome back home. But when I apologized to my friends and explained what had happened, they were actually really supportive.

Student: That’s great. So, things have been going ok since you moved back into your garden?

Patient: Yeah, generally, things are going pretty good. It’s been nice reconnecting with my old friends, and I even got a job at a sandwich shop. It’s actually just down the street from here. Gino’s.

Patient smiles to himself.

Student: What’s that smile?

Patient: I actually had a moment with that. When I went in for my interview, Gino said he wanted to hire me to be in a sandwich. He said he wanted to slice my entire body lengthwise several times, put me between two pieces of bread with some meat and things, and then charge a human fourteen dollars to eat me.

Student: That sounds awful!

Patient: I know, right? And the messed-up thing is, I almost took the job, even though I didn’t want it. I think because I was so used to doing whatever Vin wanted. Like I forgot I had autonomy. But I stopped myself and said, “I’m sorry, but that doesn’t work for me. I don’t want to be in a sandwich.”

Student: And how did Gino react?

Patient: He just said, “Ok, then we’ll give you a try sweeping floors.”

Student: And how has that been going?

Patient: Oh, I haven’t started yet. I start on Monday.

Supervisor shakes her head, smirking to herself. Like, at this point, it’s almost funny how many mistakes Student has made.

Student feels like she’s one slip-up away from killing her dream career before it’s even started.

Student collects herself.

Student: How are you feeling about it? Are you excited to get back into the workforce? Or nervous? Or maybe a little of both?

Patient: Yeah, a little of both. I’m looking forward to being out in the world again after being essentially locked in a jar for three years. But, at the same time, I’m worried I won’t be very good at my job.

Student: What makes you say that?

Patient: Mostly just that I don’t have arms, so I don’t know how I’ll hold the broom. Plus, I saw the broom I’ll be using, and it’s, like, fifteen times my size. But I’ll figure it out. If I can find the courage to leave Vin, then I’m sure I can find a way to sweep a floor.

Student: It sounds like moving back home was the right move for you.

Patient: Yeah, it definitely was. It’s nice not to have every move I make decided by someone else. Plus, since I’m not paying rent, I’ll be able to save up to go back to school.

Student: What are you planning to study?

Patient: I haven’t really looked into it in depth yet, but I think I want to get into social work or something. I think I’d like to do something where I can help other victims of domestic abuse get out of their situation.

Student: Oooh, that sounds yummy! I think you’ve chosen a really worthwhile path.

Patient smiles, but there’s sadness behind it.

Student: I sense something is still bothering you, though. What’s going through your mind?

Patient: I guess, the reason I’m here... I keep thinking about how, when I first went back to my garden, none of the other cucumbers recognized me. And when I told them who I was, they didn’t believe me. They made me tell them a bunch of things that only I would know to prove it was really me.

Student: How did that make you feel?

Patient: I was terrified. It scared me how much I had changed. I thought when I left Vin’s jar, I’d go back to my old, refreshing, happy-go-lucky self. But it’s been a month, and that hasn’t happened... I’m afraid I’ve lost myself.

Student: It can be tough to recalibrate your identity after a big change like leaving a long-term relationship. We can definitely explore that together.

Patient: Yeah, I’d like that.

Student: Let’s start with an exercise. Why don’t you close your eyes and picture your old self?

Patient closes eyes.

Student: Do you see him?

Patient: Yeah. I see him.

Student: Good. Now, focus on what’s different between him and who you are now.

Patient remains silent for thirty seconds.

Patient: And do I tell you what I notice, or just say it to myself?

Student: Whatever you’re comfortable with.

Patient: He’s bigger than me. That stands out right away. And he’s a brighter shade of green. More vibrant. And... Um... he’s got more water content, I guess. I can’t exactly see that, but I can just tell. Um... Also, again I can’t see it, but the old me has a higher pH. Definitely less acidic.

Patient quivers, then opens his eyes.

Student: It sounds like you’re concerned with that last difference in particular.

Patient nods, looking sad.

Patient: Yeah, I feel really acidic. That’s what scares me.

Student: Interesting. Earlier, you said it felt like Vinegar had physically seeped into you. Is that what this acidic feeling is?

Patient: I think so, yeah. But the thing that really scares me... I’m scared because I looked online, and all these articles were saying how I can’t go back to who I was. There were these diagrams...

Patient fights back tears.

Student: Take your time.

Patient: There were these diagrams showing how my chemical structure has changed and my proteins have been denatured... They said I’ve been pickled. And they said once you’ve been pickled, you can’t change back. Ever. I feel like my life is over!

Patient breaks down and bawls for some time.

Student: I understand how you’re feeling, but deep down, do you really believe being pickled has made it impossible for you to go on with your life? Because the things you’re doing—getting a job, going back to school—those don’t sound like the actions of someone whose life is over.

Patient: I know. I don’t really believe my life is over. That’s just how it feels sometimes.

Student: And that feeling is perfectly valid. Change is hard. But it’s important not to lose all hope, because there are steps you can take.

Patient sits up erect, his eyes wide and full of relief.

Patient: Really? You mean the articles were wrong? What can I do? Is there some kind of experimental treatment I can do to get un-pickled?

Student: No, it’s nothing like that. Unfortunately, what you read about pickling is true. The changes caused by being in an acidic environment can’t be reversed.

Patient sobs, then scowls at Student.

Patient: Why did you get my hopes up like that? What’s wrong with you?

Student: I should have been more clear. I apologize.

Supervisor angrily scribbles something in her notebook.

Student is pretty sure she has officially blown this. She wonders if she should leave this room, drop out of her program, and take over her dad’s electronics store like he always wanted. She’s clearly not cut out for this.

But then Student remembers why she started studying psychology. Because of her mom’s drinking problem. Because alcohol took her mom away from her, and maybe if someone had given her the help she needed, she would still be here.

Student sets her jaw. She must stick with this. Someday, someone might need her the way her mom needed someone. Hell, this confused, frightened pickle needs her right now. But she’s not sure what she can do for him.

But then she remembers her favourite story from when she was a child. The one she would constantly ask her mother to tell her (this was before she started drinking, or maybe she was just better at hiding it). It was about a bear who went blind after getting shot in the face. She thought she was useless, but then she realized her sense of smell had been heightened, and she led her starving friends to a huge huckleberry patch. After their feast, the other bears made some of the huckleberries into a cake and threw a party to celebrate the blind bear’s unique talent.

Student takes a steady breath and looks at Patient. She knows she can help him if she can get him to recognize his unique value, just like that bear.

Student: What I meant to say was, there are steps you can take toward accepting the new version of you. Because in some ways, the new you is better than the old you.

Patient: It doesn’t feel like it.

Student: I understand. But will you try something for me?

Patient: Ok...

Student: I want you to close your eyes again.

Patient closes eyes.

Student: This time, I want you to think about the new you. I want you to look at him really closely. And I want you to try to identify one thing about him that you like better than your old self.

Patient remains silent for a time, his eyes remaining closed.

Patient: I honestly can’t think of anything.

Student: It doesn’t have to be big. It can be anything. It might not even be a physical trait. It might be something you can feel rather than something you can see.

Patient remains silent for another minute, then opens his eyes, a hint of a smile on his face.

Student: Were you able to think of something?

Patient: I was. I thought about how I want to go to school to be a social worker. And how, before I met Vin, I wanted to be a singer, and not even for the art of it. I just wanted to be rich and have legions of adoring fans. And I kind of like that I want to devote my life to helping victims of abuse. It’s more... I don’t know... It’s more of a noble calling, I guess.

Student: What if you had to put that in one word? How would you describe the new you? Would you say he’s more...

Patient: More empathetic. More compassionate. Sorry, that’s two words.

Student: No, that’s great. Two words is even better.

Patient: I also feel stronger. Crunchier.

Student: Amazing. And it is really crunchy that you’ve turned a negative experience into a desire to help others.

Patient: Yeah, it is, isn’t it?

Patient’s smile widens.

Student: It looks like a happy thought passed through your mind just now.

Patient: Oh, yeah. I just realized that none of the cucumbers in my garden have those flavors of empathy or compassion. Don’t get me wrong, they’re great vegetables, but between you and me, they’re kind of bland. And that made me wonder if I have any other flavors that other cucumbers don’t.

Student: I’m sure there are a lot more flavors under the surface for you to discover. And I think you’ll find that they make you pretty delicious.

Patient: I feel delicious. I mean, heck, Gino wanted to put me in a sandwich. That’s pretty special. I mean, have you ever heard of anyone putting a regular old cucumber in a sandwich?

Student’s eyes widen, and she shoots Supervisor a quick look like, ‘Should I tell him?’

Supervisor pretends to clear some lint from the collar of her blouse, but she’s secretly giving Student the ‘cut’ signal across her neck.

Student keeps her mouth shut.

Patient: I feel so light, like I’m finally starting to put my past behind me. For the first time in a long time, I'm actually looking forward to the future.

Student: I’m so glad to hear that. Is there anything else you want to share? We still have some time left.

Patient: You know what? I think I’m good. Thank you for your help.

Patient hops out of his chair.

Student: Of course. And if anything comes up that you want to unpack, you’re welcome to make another appointment.

Patient: Will I get you again?

Student: If I’m still doing my practicum, then yes, you can request to see me.

Patient: Good. You’re really good at this... Doc.

Patient winks at Student, then leaves.

Student doesn’t notice Supervisor is standing right behind her until a firm, cold hand lands on her shoulder.

Supervisor pats Student’s shoulder affirmingly.

Student looks to Supervisor, who gives Student a thumbs up. An actual, honest-to-God thumbs up.

Student notices something odd. Supervisor’s approval doesn’t matter that much to her anymore. What matters is that a pickle came into this office feeling despondent and left feeling uplifted.

Student vows never to forget why she chose this profession. She’s not doing it for the satisfaction of winning supervisors’ approval; she’s doing it for the fulfillment of helping others preserve their well-being.