Looking Good

When there has been a gradual change over time, it is not always easy to see the whole picture. It is only when you stop and look back that you realise how high you have climbed. It was during one of our (very occasional) family therapy sessions this week that I suddenly realised the extent of the recent change in Julie. When we had last all met together at the clinic, sometime before Christmas, she had barely spoken. She seemed to be locked in her own world with her demons. A great deal has happened since then, and much of it has not been good; the last time the family therapist saw Julie was less than a month ago, in the middle of a crisis. Yet here she was today, smiling, happy, relaxed, talking to him about an art exhibition.

The arrangement had been that Julie would leave the room half way through to spend some time with her regular therapist, Martha. As soon as she had left, the family therapist remarked to me how well she was looking. I basked in happiness. It occurred to me that for the first time in a very long time, I was feeling relaxed and optimistic about the future. Maybe, just maybe, Julie will escape from the minotaur in the labyrhynth after all.

The improvement is visible in her whole being.  Her face and eyes look brighter.  Her hair, washed regularly, is glossy and healthy.  She moves differently, more gracefully.  She smiles at people when she talks to them - a smile that lights up her face.

For the first time in months we make plans for the immediate future.  Some of them are very small plans: visits to friends, a trip further afield to visit some cousins.  It is important to seal in these moments now and catch up on friends and family while things are going well.  Some of our plans are bigger - now that she is sixteen, I have arranged a day trip to a spa where I can introduce her to the mysteries of the sauna and the steam room.  And carried away with so much planning, I nervously commit us to spending a few days in Paris together at Easter.  It will be the first trip outside Britain in over two years.  We can travel all the way by train, and stay in a hotel I know well. We can spend our days exploring the Louvre and admiring Notre Dame.  I know it is a risk, but somewhere inside me is a reasonable confidence that it is a risk that will pay off - that it is a bet worth making.