Andre's Many "Extra Benefits," Including OCD
"I laugh as I write this because I can—because it (OCD) is gone."
Gary's intro: I helped guide Andre Fillion's use of The Unseen Therapist for his extreme anxiety and agoraphobia. As those issues have improved in major ways (still more to do), Andre experienced "extra benefits" that we never directly worked on. This is a result of The Unseen Therapist expanding our results beyond our expectations (at least if our readiness allows). This doesn't always happen but, when it does, we need to bring it to everyone's attention.
Here is Andre's report.
From Andre: Hello Gary, There are major issues I have had that we’ve never addressed, but seem to have just fallen away—like, say, table legs collapsing.
These are good things, but the following are really good things:
Traffic fears vanish: I have had an intense fear of traffic to the point that I haven’t been in a car between the hours of 7am and 9am and 4pm and 6pm for a quarter of a century. Getting caught in rush-hour meant I had no way to get home instantly. It only happened a few times, the most serious of which was when I jumped a median to get out of a traffic snarl and did significant damage to the underside of my car, and I didn’t care. It got me out of it and I was home safely. Another time, I just abandoned my car at the curb and ran home. I went back for it later and found $200 in tickets on it, and I didn’t care because I got out of traffic and I got home safely.
Yesterday, I had to go about ten miles into downtown for an appointment—a feat previous to our work would have been a great challenge and now isn’t—and I ended up not realizing the time and headed back home at 4.30pm. In the thick of traffic. Nothing. Well, not nothing, but this:
My interaction in my mind with the Unseen Therapist:
“Are you here?” I asked,
“I’m always here.”
“I’m surrounded by cars and nothing is moving and I’m starting to feel a little uneasy. Why am I feeling any of this at all if you’re right here?”
“You need to feel something so that you remember it when it no longer comes, but you will be fine because nothing bad is going to happen.”
And nothing did. Traffic crawled along for the next twenty minutes and eventually started to dissipate and I was amazed that nothing happened. She was right. As soon as I was assured that nothing bad was going to happen, the jitters disappeared and—as the passenger, of course—I started to doze. This has never happened before. In traffic. Ever.
Uneasiness fades: I have always had a great uneasiness about being far away from my car because it represented my quickest way home. As a result, even if it was just three or four blocks I needed to go, the car always came with me. There were many “what ifs,” as in ‘what if I get vertigo?’, ‘what if I panic?’, or ‘what if my legs turn leaden like they always do in my dreams when I’m being chased?’ And sure enough, these doubts did indeed bring panic so it was just easier not to face it—and I made certain by rigidly setting up my life so that I never had to.
There is a Costco at the other side of the small forest behind my house, about 500m walking. Yesterday, while I don’t have blood-sugar issues, I know when I should eat, I didn’t and I was feeling a little spacey and saw Costco at the other end of the parking lot and I wondered if I would panic once I was so far from home—far for me, anyway. I sat down on a nearby bench, closed my eyes, rang up the Unseen Therapist, and went through the steps. Sixty seconds. I said to my partner “OK, all good, let’s proceed. He said “Don’t rush.” I replied “No, I’m fine. It’s done.” And we continued on without further incident. And no Ativan.
What happened to the freeway fear?: Every major city in Canada has a Queensway or a Kingsway (depending on which was our Monarch when built). It is a freeway that runs through the core of the city—usually six or eight lanes. I haven’t been on our Queensway for decades unless it was absolutely, ABSOLUTELY, necessary. A mile or two between exits that would take me back home was out of the question.
Last Friday, we had to go into downtown via the Queensway. Dark clouds quickly approached (bad weather has always been a car no-no for me). The sky opened up and buckets came down to the point that visibility was at perhaps ten feet and we had to slow to 50km/hr. Nothing. I couldn’t believe it. Nothing happened to me—I was almost fascinated by the amount of water. And the rain kept coming until my partner started to become uneasy and said “I’m going to get off at the next exit.” I said “No, keep going or we’ll be late." Me. I said that.
Today's adjective: Phenomenal.
Other issues just seem to be falling away. I can see emotional freedom. It’s right there—I just have to get there and I feel like it’s so close.
OCD is gone: We’ve never discussed OCD. I’ve had it in varying degrees for years, but not to the point of it being crippling and it was always eradicated by medication whenever it reappeared. It started coming back (now that I’m not on any medication of that type) in things like checking and rechecking locks or having a compulsion to organize things on store shelves while shopping (all labels have to be even—strictly parallel and perpendicular—facing outward). I laugh as I write this because I can—because it is gone. Another table leg.
Heat urticaria is essentially gone: We have previously addressed heat urticaria that first appeared in May and caused heat-induced uncomfortable prickling all over my torso to the point of it almost being painful. My doctor put me on a heavy antihistamine and it lessened the symptoms, but not entirely. Well, now it’s gone. The only time I feel it is when I wonder where it is. I was on the treadmill this morning and I was sweating a little and I said to myself ‘so, where is it.’ And it came just to remind that it could—until I got distracted from that thought by the television.
Mother forgiveness: Another enormous issue which we haven’t discussed was forgiving my mother. I’m now seeing things so clearly—the clutter is moving out of the way. She died at sixty-five of an aneurism and was dead before she hit the floor, and I’ve been angry with her for abandoning me, yet again, for twenty years. We never had the conversations that needed to be had and I've been angry.
But I wasn’t angry—I just didn’t know it. I’ve been concentrating on everything she did wrong instead of all the magnificent things she did right. Being angry with her was so much easer than being sad. Now I don’t have to be either and I don’t know how this has happened, so quickly. Of course I do know, I just can’t explain it. And I’ll just have to refer back to my mother again with respect to faith:
“For those who do not believe, there is no explanation possible; for those who do believe there is no explanation necessary.”
Gary, I hope this tome hasn’t been a screed, but you did ask for feedback.
Thanks so much,
Andre
