The melting clock: A psychodrama technique for grief work in a one-to-one setting

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Originally published in the British Journal of Psychodrama and Sociodrama, 20, 2, pp.23-37, 2005, and in the Revista Brasileira de Psicodrama, 14, 2, pp.65-76, 2006 with the title ‘O relógio mole: uma técnica para a resolução do luto no psicodrama individual’.

Author: Zoltán Figusch

Abstract

The article discusses psychodrama techniques for grief work, specifically a technique called “the melting clock.” It explores the developmental origins of grief reactions, tracing them back to an infant’s early experiences with relating and separating from caregivers. Positive relating experiences involve pleasure and happiness, while separation causes anxiety, anger, and sadness. These early experiences form the basis for how individuals experience loss and death later in life. The melting clock technique aims to help clients work through grief by accessing and reexperiencing these early developmental processes.

 

 

Losses accompany all of us throughout our whole life. Loss however, doesn’t only mean the death of a parent, a family member, a close relative or a friend. We may loose someone without that person actually dying: we may separate from a lover, a partner, a husband or a wife, or we may be abandoned by a parent or by a significant other. Beyond loosing persons we may also loose our ideals, beliefs, dreams, hopes, possibilities, jobs, health, or even some of our roles.

However, the loss that affects us most deeply – through its irreversibility and definiteness – is the loss by death of a significant other from our social atom (our extended circle of relationships). With the disruption of socio-emotional relationships, our socio-emotional existence also gets damaged; with the death of a loved other we also loose a part of ourselves. Our social atom becomes smaller and smaller and if we don’t rebuild it, we may reach a state of ‘social death’, which at times may be even worse and crueller than the actual death.

Bereavement unchains a whole series of responses, denominated as grief reactions. My intention within this paper is to try and understand these grief reactions from the perspective of psychodrama theory, and to trace back their origins to the matrix of identity, the bio-psycho-socio-cultural placenta of human development. Following this, through the clinical example of a young man with learning difficulties, I will present the psychodrama technique of the ‘melting clock’; a technique that I developed during the course of our one-to-one psychodramatic grief-work.

The locus nascendi of grief reactions

Grief reactions can be traced back to the developmental phase of the matrix of all-identity (the first universe), and more specifically to the infant’s early experiences of relating and separation. Loss by death can be considered as the loss of a significant relationship, as an irreversible separation from a significant other.

From the moment we are born we start to interact with the persons and objects of our environment, these interactions forming the basis of socio-emotional learning and development. During the course of this process, we internalize various aspects of the significant others from our social environment, and as a consequence, when we lose someone important, we also lose a part of ourselves. From a sociometric perspective we could say that we exist through our relationships, through our interactions with others.

The psychological development of the child is a long and gradual process, its starting point being the symbiotic relationship between the infant and his mother, between the infant and his environment. This initial phase of development is characterised by the infant’s inability to differentiate between himself and others (undifferentiated all-identity), the infant only gradually becoming able to distinguish himself from others (the recognition of the I and the other, or the phase of differentiated all-identity). The experiences of this process will structure the child’s learning of how to relate to and separate from others, relating and separating representing the two opposite poles of relationships. (Fonseca 2003)[1]

 

Let us look at the experiences that structure our relationships, starting with the pole of relating. We saw that within the phase of undifferentiated all-identity the infant experiences all things, persons and objects of his environment as one individual manifold, in an undifferentiated manner. Consequently, he relates to all human beings in his environment in a generic manner, accepting their care without discrimination. Only later on does he acquire the ability to choose between people, the mother (or main carer) becoming his preferential or primary choice. Infant and mother will continue to form an organic unit of functioning and interaction.

Beyond fulfilling the basic biological needs of the infant, through her secure holding, the mother also fulfils his emotional needs as well as his needs for interaction. Even without doing anything specific, the mother’s presence can be structuring in itself. As a result, the infant develops a positive anticipation in relation to the care of the mother. He anticipates that beyond satisfying his hunger and making his discomfort disappear (physical needs), his mother would also pick him up, talk to him and interact with him, that is, she will also satisfy his emotional needs. Fonseca (2003) denominates this optimistic anticipation as anxiety-hope. Through the concretization of this positively anticipated and hoped contact, the infant will experience pleasure/love: the pleasure of being together, the pleasure of relating. This pleasurable experience will manifest itself in the infant’s feelings of happiness and joy with the shared moment. According to Bustos (2001) this pleasure will persist as the background of subsequent experiences, that is, the internalization of these positive feelings will result in a positive and optimistic view of the adult relationships.

We could conclude that this experiential sequence of positive anticipation (anxiety-hope)pleasure/lovehappiness is related to gains and to life. It represents the infant’s blueprint in his learning of how to relate, of how to ‘be together’. In the subsequent phases of the infant’s development, these experiences will also be reiterated in his relationships with other persons of the matrix of identity.

However, as Fonseca (2003) points out, relating only represents one pole of our relationships. As the infant learns how to ‘be together’, inevitably he also needs to learn to ‘be alone’; that is, together with learning how to relate, he will also need to learn how to separate. Already around the age of eight months the infant starts to react to the absence of his mother (separation anxiety), as she represents an important emotional and affective relational object for him. This is the first step towards establishing an object relationship; or, in psychodramatic terms, the second phase of the matrix of identity – the beginning of the recognition of the I and the other.

In the absence or the threat of absence of the (m)other (the main holding figure) the child will experience a whole series of new reactions that differ from those of the experience of relating. We saw that when positively stimulated, the infant responds with hope, pleasure/love and happiness. In front of imminent loss however, his first reaction is anxiety or anxiety-fear as Fonseca (2003) denominates it. (Fonseca considers anxiety-fear to be the opposite pole of anxiety-hope [positive anticipation], the infant’s experience of relating.) With the actual concretization of this absence, anger and aggression appear (that is, displeasure/hate that manifests itself in the infant’s crying and kicking), this being followed by feelings of sadness for the loss. However, since after each period of absence the mother returns, the infant eventually learns to relax in her absence, that is, he reaches a resolution.[2]

Thus, the experiential sequence of separation can be summed up as: anxiety (anxiety-fear) – anger and aggression (displeasure/hate) – sadness – resolution. While the experiential sequence of relating is connected to gains and life, the experiential sequence of separation is strongly connected to loss and death.

As a result of the pleasure of relating, and of the displeasure of separation, the child will try to diminish and avoid the negative experiences and to extend the positive ones. These tendencies are denominated as shock absorbers (Fonseca 2003) or defence mechanisms (Bustos 2001), and will be incorporated in the child’s developing personality. These primary learning experiences of relating and separation will also reflect in his adult relationships and, as Bustos (2001) points out, if someone goes through the matrix of identity with positive experiences of relating, these will help him accept more easily later moments of loss. Thus, the disappearance of the object (mother) from the visual field of the infant can be considered as the first step towards the configuration of the concept of death, while separation the blueprint of grief reactions.

It is important to mention however, that the child is not able to understand death before he acquires language and the sense of time, before he understands causal relationships and before he can differentiate between the animated and the unanimated – that is, before he reaches the breach between fantasy and reality[3].

The phases of grief

Grief reactions represent a particular case of the above described separation reactions; they are the derivates of the anxiety-anger/aggression-sadness-resolution sequence. However, while the separation experienced by the infant is reversible (since the mother returns), separation by death is irreversible and definite, this resulting in certain changes of the sequence.

Let us then see the sequence of grief reactions that appear following the loss by death of a significant other from our social atom. According to the sequence described by Pap (1997), the first and immediate response to the death of a loved and important other is shock. When working with such fresh grief in psychodrama, an accepting, supportive and consoling attitude is needed both from the director and the group, which can most simply be achieved by sharing. At this stage the bereaved is usually not ready to look deeper into her loss (through dramatization); this is not a time for confrontation and analysis.

This initial shock is followed by denial, the phase of emotional non-acceptance. As the word denial suggests, at this stage of her grief reactions the bereaved does not accept the death of the other, she refuses to emotionally live through this experience, and she does not consider it as an issue. Therefore, grief in its stage of denial is nearly never brought into psychodrama consciously. It may however, be brought into the session indirectly, through an issue that does not suggest or start as grief-work. In these cases the therapist needs to keep an extra eye open in order to recognize the real issue behind the surface.

After denying it, the bereaved faces the loss, this resulting in strong reactions of anger and aggression. A lot of the grief processes get stuck in this phase, because we feel it is inappropriate to be angry or to have any negative feelings towards the deceased. Negative thoughts and feelings are therefore often repressed, or the bereaved may turn her anger/aggression against herself. This self-blame and self-reproach may be the result of arguments we had with the deceased before their death; we feel guilty for having hurt them, or having been hurt by them, their death impeding us from making up for these ‘incidents’.

The next phase of grief reactions is the depressive phase, the acceptance of the loss. These feelings of sadness may be present, with more or less intensity, throughout the whole grief work. Only after the acceptance of the loss (and as a result of this acceptance) can the bereaved person reach the last phase of the grief process: resolution. Resolution means making peace not only with the fact of death, but also with the deceased and with ourselves. Resolution is the closing of grief work; it enables the bereaved to say good-bye and to let go of the deceased – to let go of the bad and to hold on to the good.

According to Lindemann (1944) and Vikár (1997), before reaching resolution, another phase may also occur in the grief process: the phase of symptom formation by identification or partial identification with certain characteristics of the deceased. ‘This is the appearance of traits of the deceased in the behaviour of the bereaved, especially symptoms shown during the last illness’ of the deceased. (Lindemann 1944, p.142) [4]

It is important to mention, that the grief process does not necessarily follow the above described shock – denial – anger/aggression – sadness – resolution sequence. The bereaved may go through some of these phases quickly, while some others may take longer; they also may swap or overlap and so cannot always be clearly separated. The bereaved often first needs to express more positive feelings towards the deceased (such as love and gratitude), before being able to air her pain, anger or reproach, thus eventually reaching resolution. What is true however for all grief processes, is that these phases take place step by step, that is, coming to terms with death takes time.

This usually happens naturally, the bereaved going through the various phases of grief in her own rhythm. At times however, she may get stuck in a certain phase, unable to reach resolution in a natural and spontaneous manner. Lindemann (1944) described this as pathologic grief that may in turn develop into a series of morbid grief reactions[5].

This is when psychotherapy may become necessary in order to enable the bereaved to complete the grief process. The objective of the therapist in these cases is to allow the bereaved client to go through all the phases of grief, by bringing to the surface her repressed feelings, and by helping her liberation from the stuck relationship with the deceased, her readjustment to a new environment in which the deceased is missing as well as the formation of new relationships.[6]

In the following I will present a clinical example, in which one-to-one psychodrama was used to help a client reach resolution for his unresolved grief.

The melting clock

Frank (not his real name) was six years old when his grandmother had a heart attack. During her hospitalization she recovered, but died not long after she had been discharged. At the time Frank’s parents did not support or comfort him in his grief and so the memory of the loss of his Nan became extremely painful for Frank and remained unresolved. Had his parents been able to facilitate his grief and offer him appropriate emotional support, they would have probably enabled him to process the loss at a level appropriate to his age. Vikár (1997) points out the reason why this may be difficult is that the adults in the bereaved child’s social atom are also strongly affected by the loss, creating emotional instability around the child. Based on his therapeutic grief-work with children, Vikár further adds that in the lack of the parents’ emotional support, therapy may provide this sense of safety for the child. He compares therapy to a transitional object that offers emotional safety in the absence of the mother.

At the age of 20 Frank presented clear indications of unresolved and delayed grief reactions. The thought of his Nan’s illness and death was anxiety provoking and frightening for him, this evoking strong resistances and painful memories. He also carried a lot of anger, a reaction that was discouraged and occasionally even punished by his parents when Frank had been a child. He was not able to accept and appropriately express his anger, and considered it as wrong and dangerous. In terms of the above-described sequence of the grief reactions we could say that Frank had not overcome the phases of anger/aggression and sadness, and so had not reached a resolution over his Nan’s loss.

These reactions had been clearly concretized during the psychodrama sessions: Frank chose a small teddy bear to represent his ‘young frightened self’, embodying both his fear and painful sadness. Frank’s represented his disowned and unaccepted ‘aggressive self’ (anger) by a white duck. Finally, his ‘considerate adult self’ was represented by another, nearly identical duck, this suggesting that although Frank had recognised the ‘aggressive self’ as being part of him, he was not yet able to accept and integrate this with his ‘considerate adult self’[7].

When working with unresolved grief, psychodrama offers the possibility to recall a deceased significant other within a scene and to re-encounter them. In psychodrama it is also possible however to go beyond the simple re-enactment of a past encounter; the technique of surplus reality enables the protagonist to have an encounter with the deceased that did not actually happen in the reality of their relationship. Thus the bereaved protagonist has the chance to experience and express her feelings and thoughts toward the deceased in their complexity and variety. The emotional discharge and intellectual understanding of this psychodramatic encounter may help the protagonist to process certain aspects of her unresolved grief by gaining surplus insight and surplus understanding.

Blatner (1973, 2000) suggests deathbed scenes and the technique of the final encounter, which focus the needs of the protagonist with a literal deadline for action. ‘You have five minutes to talk to him before he dies. Now is the time to make your good-byes, ask your final questions, and express your honest resentments and appreciations.’ (Blatner 1973, p.70)

In an early session Frank set up a scene from his childhood when together with his parents he visited his Nan in hospital. He was too frightened to enter her room and decided to stay outside on his own, sitting in a dark and cold corridor (‘young frightened self’). Perazzo (1986) points out that parents and hospitals tend not to allow young children to visit seriously or terminally ill relatives, in order to keep death out of their sight. Thus, beyond repressing their grief process, they also block the children’s ability to express their feelings. Even though it seems that in Frank’s case it was his own decision not to visit his Nan, the effects were the same: his feelings of fear and sadness became repressed without these being externalized and processed.

Later on during the therapy Frank revisited this hospital scene, stating that he ‘needed to do something there’ – a clear indication of his unresolved grief. In a surplus reality scene his ‘considerate adult self’ actually managed to enter Nan’s hospital room and expressed some of his feelings related to her death; however his ‘young frightened self’ continued to sit outside in the corridor. A final encounter (Blatner 2000, p.45) suggested at this stage was rejected by Frank, indicating that more work needed to be done in order for him to reach resolution in his grief process.

Surplus reality scenes (such as the deathbed scene and the final encounter) may enable protagonists to work with and possibly resolve certain aspects of their unfinished grief-work. However, as Frank’s example indicates, it is very unlikely that only one such surplus reality experience will fully resolve the grief of a bereaved protagonist and enable her to let go and say good-bye to the deceased in real life too.

Ongoing one-to-one psychodrama psychotherapy may offer a different possibility to work with such unresolved grief. In contrast with ongoing psychodrama therapy groups where protagonists and issues presented by them rotate, in one-to-one psychodrama we work with only one client, who has the psychodramatic stage available only for herself at all times. As Mérei and Vikár (1997) point out, this client being the only protagonist, the sequence of her therapy sessions will end up being edited into a continuous whole, the psychodramatic space thus turning into a space of interconnected memories. This montage-like adding up of the sessions offers the possibility to bring onto the stage a more complete story of the protagonist’s relationship with the deceased, a story illustrated through various images and scenes, its positive and negative aspects, its conflicts and harmonious times, etc.

In grief-work this panorama of the relationship enables the bereaved protagonist to revive the deceased inside herself, to bring back to life memories and to process experiences. But, beyond creating a continuous line of past memories, it is also possible to create a montage-like sequence of surplus reality scenes, by editing together a series of sessions when the protagonist works in surplus reality. Thus the time available to say good-bye and letting go of the deceased can be extended, and grief reactions can be worked through more thoroughly in order to reach resolution. I named this technique after Salvador Dali’s well-known images of melting clocks, representing a surrealistic and dream-like vision of the flexibility and relativity of time. However, while Dali suspends time in sur-reality, the psychodrama technique of the melting clock suspends time in surplus-reality.

I introduced the technique of the melting clock following the session when Frank had revisited the scene set in his Nan’s hospital room. We were in Nan’s living room shortly after she had left hospital and Frank mentioned that there were certain things he ‘should have done’. When in role of his Nan, he also made clear that she needed to explain a lot of things about her illness and death to ‘young frightened Frank’. While in this role (Nan), Frank managed to voice how difficult letting go was for both of them, and had a long, emotional and comforting conversation with ‘young frightened Frank’, touching on many painful issues and feelings. Frank had the chance to replay this scene in the role of his ‘young frightened self’ (receive the comfort) as well as to watch it in mirror (being in the role of his ‘considerate adult self’), this latter leading to an emotional catharsis.

It was clear however that Frank needed more time to resolve his grief process; there were many more things to say and to do before he could let go of his Nan. In the therapy room I had a big wooden clock with movable hands, which I gave to Frank asking to show me what time this encounter in his Nan’s living room took place. After he set the clock to 3p.m., I gave him the following instruction: ‘Now it is early afternoon and we have until midnight. This will be your special time with Nan to do the things you should have done and say the things you should have said. We will not be able to stop the time, but we can slow it down, so you will only get to midnight when you are ready. Time will move forward at each session, but you decide how far. At the end of each session you will stop the clock at any time that feels comfortable and we will take it from there the following week.’ This is how the melting clock was introduced and how Frank’s time with his Nan was suspended in surplus reality, Frank gaining control over the time he needed to say good-bye. Our subsequent sessions continued in surplus reality, with the objective to reach midnight (resolution) when Frank was ready.

3-5p.m.

At the beginning of the next session Frank moved the hands of the melting clock forward, stopping ‘dead on five’. He gave himself two hours of surplus reality time, during which he would watch TV with Nan and then do some washing. Setting up the laundry and opening the big wash-basket (a box full of costumes, pieces of colourful fabric and hats that I kept in the therapy room) evoked various memories linked to his Nan, these leading into a conversation between them about the life cycle and death. In role of Nan Frank reassured his ‘young frightened self’ that even if she’ll be gone, she would be ‘up there (pointing at the heavens) looking out for him’. Death was addressed in a less frightening way, leaving ‘young frightened Frank’ a bit more relaxed.

5-6p.m.

The following session Frank moved the hands of the melting clock from 5 to 6p.m. He said that Nan would have a nap at this time, ‘giving a rest to her old and tired body’ – a real metaphor of death. Through role reversals between Nan and Frank the duality of body and spirit was discussed and Frank was left more reassured knowing that after letting go of Nan’s old and tired body her spirit will stay with him and continue to live inside his heart. Some of ‘young frightened Frank’s’ fears and anxieties were addressed, bringing this part of his self closer together with his ‘adult considerate self’ (integration).

6-7p.m.

Our next session coincided with Frank’s 21st birthday, a good opportunity to further strengthen his adult role. During the earlier sessions Nan had mentioned that she regretted not being able/alive to see Frank as an adult. It was from 6 to 7p.m. surplus reality time that Nan had finally had the chance to meet the ‘tall, strong, hard working, kind, helpful and caring’ adult Frank, who had managed to find balance between his ‘considerate adult’ and ‘aggressive’ selves[8].

7p.m.  seemed to be a turning point in Frank’s grief work. He became more grounded in his adult role, he had further integrated his ‘aggressive self’ (by processing and taking ownership over some of his anger); while his ‘young frightened self’ seemed to appear less and less, indicating that his emotional pain and sadness had lessened. Although he had still not reached resolution, he awaited the last hours of his day with Nan with less anxiety. He had also managed to internalize some aspects of his Nan – namely her spirit.

7-8p.m.

Having been indoors all afternoon, Frank and Nan went for a walk in the park between 7 and 8p.m. Frank set up a few swings with Nan sitting on one of them and his three inner selves on another. Pointing at his ‘young frightened self’ he said: ‘He is still there. A bit better, but still there.’ In role of his Nan (s)he acknowledged that she was also a bit frightened of going up there (pointing to heaven), but added: ‘You need to think with your heart and also think with your head (clearly addressing both the adult and the young). I am in your heart. And you will need to keep looking up, because I will be there looking down on you.’ Frank had further internalized his Nan’s surviving spirit, separating it from her dying body, while his ‘young frightened self’ received more comfort. At 8p.m. they returned to Nan’s house.

8-10p.m.

Frank and Nan spent the next two hours back in the sitting room, where an emotional conversation took place between them. Putting an arm around his Nan, Frank told her: ‘Even though I know that you’ll be up there, it is painful, because I won’t be able to see you.’ In role of Nan (s)he replied: ‘It is also painful for me, because I won’t be able to see you again. But you are a grown-up and you know how to think with your heart.’ Frank managed to acknowledge and express his sadness and emotional pain from his considerate adult role, showing signs of acceptance of the loss. He finished the session in this adult role and without being frightened (the bear representing his ‘young frightened self’ was not even brought into the session), an indication that he was very close to reach the stage of resolution.

10p.m.-midnight

When starting the following session, I wasn’t certain whether Frank would reach midnight or stop the melting clock some time before that. However, he came into the session with the words: ‘I upset the clock (he set the hands on midnight), I am dead nervous looking at it’ – his words indicating that although upset, he was ready to finish his grief-work.

Before moving into action it was important to reinforce Frank’s newly consolidated adult role, by reminding him of the long and arduous journey he had completed and of how he had managed to integrate his ‘aggressive’ and ‘young frightened’ selves into his adult role.

We then moved on to a scene set in the church, where Nan’s coffin lay open, with Frank and his family standing around. Frank had told Nan how much he would miss her, closed the coffin making sure that Nan’s spirit (represented by a red rose) wasn’t locked in and gave a farewell speech. It was this moment that Frank reached resolution and became able to say good-bye and let go of his Nan.

We moved on to the scene of the funeral. As the coffin was wrapped in a comforting brown blanket (comfort both for Nan and Frank) representing the soil, Nan’s spirit ascended to heaven. Frank looked up and completed his grief-work with the following words: ‘I know you are up there, having a rest and looking down, seeing what a strong, hardworking and kind adult I have grown into.’ He seemed to have made his peace with the fact of death as well as his conflicting inner selves.

Conclusions

Within this paper I presented grief reactions through the prism of psychodrama theory, and the psychodrama technique of the melting clock developed in order to help a protagonist reach resolution in his unresolved grief process. Working with surplus reality helped this protagonist to gain a surplus insight and understanding of his delayed grief reactions, this technique catalyzing his grief-work that had become stuck at an early age.

Working around the melting clock allowed Frank to work and live through the repressed feelings related to the loss of his grandmother. Feelings that he could not share with his parents became possible to express and share in the therapy process. The sequence of surplus reality scenes helped him to express his feelings of fear and sorrow and to process the emotional pain of the bereavement.

According to Pap (1997), a properly led and finished therapy process will enable the protagonist to complete the therapy work, to take on and try out new roles and to develop new relationships. The melting clock seems to have enabled Frank to do all this: he completed and resolved his grief process; he further developed and strengthened his adult role by working through and integrating the frightened and aggressive aspects of his self; and finally, he managed to liberate himself from the symbiosis with his deceased grandmother and to find an acceptable formulation of his future relationship with her. Processing this loss had helped Frank to further develop, to renew himself and to spontaneously and creatively re-born from the experience of death.

In all healthy therapeutic processes, whether group or individual, it is important to define from early on the time scale of the therapy. Clients need to know how much time they have available and how long the therapy will last in order to naturally finish the therapy process by the designated closing time. The technique of the melting clock follows the same principle, only that it allows the protagonist herself to set the time scale for her grief work, thus enabling and empowering her to process her loss in a more flexible manner and to reach resolution in her own natural pace.

 

[1] See also Fonseca’s chapter 6.

[2] This resolution will not be achieved in cases of abandonment or desertion, leading to negative experiences (denominated by Laing as ‘basic ontological insecurity’) that may greatly hinder later development. These experiences may jeopardize the child’s emotional survival.

[3] In an anthropological study Landini (2002) tries to find the origins of the breach between fantasy and reality. He concludes that this breach appeared during the course of human phylogeny and is related to the humanoids’ discovery of mortality. The realization of being mortal (it was at the time of the Neanderthals that the first graves and the cult of death/dead appeared) had taken man beyond the existential experience of reality: the imaginary emerged together with the psychodramatic role. Ontogeny (the individual development of each one of us) is thus a repetition of phylogeny.

[4] Based on clinical observations of terminally ill adults, Kubler-Ross (in Perazzo 1986) described the grief reactions experienced by these patients in relation to their own death. She distinguished the following five consecutive phases: denial – anger – bargaining – depression – acceptation.

[5] When describing morbid grief reactions Lindemann (1944) differentiates between delayed reactions (a delay that may take a few weeks, months or even years) and distorted reactions (such as over-activity, the development of a psychosomatic disease, lasting loss of patterns of social interaction and social isolation, hostility, activities detrimental to the bereaved person’s social and economic existence, agitated depression, etc.)

[6] In Bowlby’s (in Perazzo 1986) analytical view this means de-structuring and re-structuring the ego, through the withdrawal of the libido from the lost object. He defined grief as the repetition of the infant’s first object loss, as the origin of the persistent search for the lost object.

[7] A lot of the therapy work addressing this ‘aggressive self’ had been done before the actual grief-work was introduced, and so will not be discussed in detail within this paper. However, further references to this self will be made in the following sections.

[8] As mentioned above, a lot of the work around Frank’s aggressive self had been done in the earlier stages of his therapy, before introducing the melting clock technique.

References

Blatner, A. (1973) Acting-in, New York: Springer.

Blatner, A. (2000) Psychodramatic methods for facilitating bereavement. Chapter 2 in: Kellerman, P.F. and Hudgins, M.K. Psychodrama with Trauma Survivors – Acting Out your Pain, London and Philadelphia: Jessica Kingsley Publishers, 2000, pp.41-50.

Bustos, D.M. (2001) The cluster theory. Chapter 6 in: Z. Figusch Sambadrama – The Arena of Brazilian Psychodrama. London and Philadelphia: Jessica Kingsley Publishers, 2005, pp.90-121.

Fonseca, J. (2003) Donde nacen los sentimentos: miedo y esperanza en la matriz de identidad (Where feelings come from: fear and hope in the matrix of identity). In: Forum-Journal of the International Association of Group Psychotherapy, January-December 2003, Special edition: The Intercultural Group State of the Art, pp.42-57.

Landini, J.C. (2002) Antropologia da brecha entre a fantasia e a realidade (The anthropology of the breach between fantasy and reality). Revista Brasileira de Psicodrama, Vol.10., no.1., pp.31-40.

Lindemann, E. (1944) Symptomatology and management of acute grief. In: American Journal of Psychiatry, 101, pp.141-148.

Mérei, Zs. and Vikár, A. (1997) Folyóban a rönk – Monodráma stábbal (Log in the river – Individual psychodrama with auxiliary egos). In: Pszichodráma a gyakorlatban – Vol.2. (Psychodrama in practice – Vol.2.), pp.90-99, Budapest: Animula.

Pap, Zs. (1997) Pszichodramatikus veszteség feldolgozás (Psychodramatic work with loss). In: Pszichodráma a gyakorlatban – Vol.2. (Psychodrama in practice – Vol.2.), pp.80-89, Budapest: Animula.

Perazzo, S. (1986) Descansem em paz os nossos mortos dentro de mim (Let the Dead Rest in Peace within Me). São Paulo: Ágora.

Vikár, A. (1997) Gyászmunka dramatikus játékcsoportban (Grief work in dramatic play groups). In: Pszichodráma a gyakorlatban – Vol.2. (Psychodrama in practice – Vol.2.), pp.36-40, Budapest: Animula.

 

 

Information about the author Zoltán Figusch
Clinical and educational psychologist, psychodrama psychotherapist registered with the British Psychodrama Association (BPA) and the United Kingdom Council for Psychotherapy (UKCP).
contact: figusch@hotmail.com