Jessica
The autobiography of an infant
by
Book Details
Recognition Programs
About the Book
Jessica was terrified that the unthinkable had happened when she had been "made-up." That was the only reason she could think of for the strange feeling that came over her whenever anyone asked her a "you" question. The instant she heard that word – even if it was just a friendly "Hi, how are you?" – she wanted to scrunch her eyes shut, slap her hands over her ears, and shout, “Stop!” That's the STUPIDEST word I've ever heard. You know why? Because there's no YOU in here. You see, I'm really not supposed to be here. LOOK at me! Can't you see that I'm just an alien being trapped in a human body?" Whenever Jessica was asked such a question, she gave the shortest answer possible and faded into the background as quickly as she could. She maneuvered her way through each day trying to anticipate what was expected of her and act accordingly. That was the only way she could think of to appear as if she belonged on planet Earth. If her act wasn't perfect, Jessica knew what would happen. Strangers would surround her and with their arms raised high and fingers stabbing at the air, they'd shout, "Imposter! Imposter!" Before she knew it, she'd be hauled into court and found guilty of impersonating a human being. All she could see in her Mind's Eye was the next day's headlines: SCIENTISTS GATHER TO EXAMINE ALIEN IMPOSTER. In her groundbreaking therapy, and as if she had been transported back in psychological time, Jessica discovered that the mystery of who she was had started far, far earlier in her life than she – and even her therapist, Dr. Jeffrey Von Glahn – had ever imagined. It began with the hurried and inattentive behavior of the medical team at her birth, who were taken by surprise late at night, and it continued at home with her mother’s robotic-like behavior. It culminated a few weeks later in a harrowing experience with her mother, when Jessica’s impassioned crying – the only way she could say “I am cold, wet, and hungry” – woke her up in the middle of the night. On that particular occasion, the gauge on Mrs. Thomas' giving reservoir had read "EMPTY." She was saddled with way too many at-home responsibilities, taking care of Jessica’s older sister at one-and-a-half-years of age, and a husband whose attitude toward their children was, “You had ‘em; you take care of them!” Mrs. Thomas’ frantic attempts to change and feed her newborn in hopes of stopping the piercing cries only left Jessica feeling, as she described it in her therapy, "like I was being picked up like a football, dressed like a rag doll, and flipped around any old way." It all left her feeling that the needing, wanting part of her – the "I" part of her psychological make-up – was too dangerous and she had to act as if it didn't exist. What no one could possibly have known at the time was that in being born Jessica wanted "to add one more good thing to the world" – herself – and that her greatest hope was to bring a smile to her mother's face (See ch.1 for an edited narrative of her forty-five-minute recall of her experience of being born). After about two years, progress in Jessica's therapy, what little there was of it, came to a grinding halt, even though she nor her therapist had ever missed, cancelled, or been late for a session. Dr. Von Glahn did not know that for all that time he had been operating on a mistaken assumption. He had assumed, as he had done with all the clients he had ever seen, as well as every person he had ever known, that Jessica was aware of what she needed. Then one day, she made a bold request for multiple-hour sessions for several days a week in hopes of a breakthrough. If Jessica had not made that request, this book would not have been written. In these extended sessions, and as if she had been transported back in psychological time, Jessica re-experienced many of the events that had threatened to interfere with how she was to develop as a human being. Listening to Jessica’s remembrances was just like listening to an infant who could talk describe every psychologically dramatic moment of her life as it was happening. Each resolution brought her tantalizing closer to the final one, the middle-of-the-night “battle of wills” with her mother, the one in which life-saving mechanisms in her psyche caused her to lose her sense of her Self. For Dr. Von Glahn, Jessica's therapy was the most challenging, the most profound, and ultimately the most personally satisfying experience he has encountered in forty-five years of practice. If someone had explained to him ahead of time the actual nature of Jessica's problem, he would not have believed that it was possible for a human being to have such a psychological condition.
About the Author
When I originally thought about being a therapist, it seemed to be a calling that I had a natural affinity for – or I at least hoped that was the case – and that I would eagerly look forward to each working day (I had a boring childhood; I rather desperately needed an interesting life to look forward to). Now, as I look back over these past 45 years, I can say that being a therapist was all that I had hoped for and that my experience with Jessica was more fascinating than I could ever have imagined. Whether it’s the first session with a new client or the hundredth one with the same client, being a therapist continues to have the same mesmeric appeal it has always had for me. Each client presents another opportunity to learn more about how I can help someone regain contact with a part of his basic humanness that fortuitous events had secreted away for safe-keeping. When I am able to accomplish that, I feel that I’ve helped to give birth to a new human being. What I especially enjoy about that experience is that I am able to use all of my intellectual skills and all of my caring instincts at the same time. I am so thrilled that I decided to be a therapist. If I believed in reincarnation, I’d want to come back as one. (For more info: jeffreyvonglahn.com)