Andrea, a client of mine, cupped her hands, as if around a big cabbage. ‘People think that shame is contained, out there, somewhere, an extra.’ She then swept her hands all over, from top to toe. ‘It’s everywhere.’ She was showing me that shame seemed to be a part of her, transcending time and space.
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In 2000 I met my first client with dissociative identity disorder (DID). I was completely unprepared for the onslaught of love and horror. We worked with her internal chaos with mutual bewilderment and devotion. I kept meeting someone different: another age, another gender, another language. More and more parts.
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I don’t think there was ever any teaching on trauma in the counselling training I did. But when I...
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