top of page

When You just don’t want to: Welcoming Resistance in Chronic Illness and Art Therapy

  • Writer: Ellen
    Ellen
  • 5 days ago
  • 3 min read
Woman in polka dot dress faces fence with art supplies nearby. Text reads: "Art therapy, chronic illness and resistance."

"But I don't want to"

How many times do we say this to ourselves? I don't want to change, I don't want to go through this, I don't want to talk about it.

I know because I have said the exact same things to myself for different reasons too.


Resistance in Chronic Illness is normal

Living with a chronic health condition (or multiple) has a way of bringing us face to face with a whole heap of experiences, feelings and changes that no one would want or wish for.



We might try to push on through the pain or the fatigue, resisting rest. I know I do this.

We might be putting off health checks, preferring to not know yet.

We might be resistant to taking yet another medication for yet another diagnosis.

We might even dismiss the idea that we have been changed in any way by our health.


It's ok


Health Changes have emotional weight


If you are feeling this way right now and could see all of the symptoms, treatments and hurdles far enough away, I understand.

I'm certainly not going to preach acceptance at you. I have realised that acceptance can be partial and come and go. Just when I think I've got it down, the wind changes or a flare up happens and it slips from my grasp.


What I'm saying is that...

any resistance you experience is natural, valid and important.

AND

You can bring it to therapy.


Yes! We can work with it.

Here's how...


Art therapy - a great way to allow resistance to surface safely


If the very thought of drawing your feelings fills you with the urge to flee the room or slide under the table, you are not alone.

Creativity has a particular way of bringing out resistance and self judgement in most people. This might surprise you but...I'm not going to demand art from you every single session. It is ok to just talk.


I will let you in on a secret... I attended weekly art therapy for two years as part of my training and sometimes/many times, I was often resistant.


I didn't want to make art because;


  • It felt too hard

  • I felt tired

  • I preferred to talk

  • making art felt like stepping into the unknown

  • I wanted to avoid the deeper layers of my problems

  • I wanted the problem to be outside of me and art making somehow brought it closer to being about me

  • I was stressed and wasn't feeling creative


Let's face it, some days I brought everything but the problem. I brought a whole heap of resistance.


None of this was wrong

It is hard to be seen. Honestly, sometimes it is too much to look.


Even so, all of this so called 'resistance' was important. Every single session was worthwhile.


Why? Because I showed up with resistance and came to know it.

I experienced and eventually understood how it showed up for me and its function in my life.


When resistance is welcomed

At the time, my art therapist was incredibly patient and understanding. They allowed the resistance to be in the session without drawing attention to it every time. They accepted it and therefore they accepted me. What a new experience this was. I felt safe and understood. It was a unique experience of being attended to just as I was.

I probably needed that and maybe you do too.


Looking back I learned so much about sitting with my clients' resistance from these sessions.

So I get it. I have felt it and I know how to sit alongside it and hold it with you.


Now years later, as a qualified art therapist I see it all the time and guess what...I welcome it.


Not Sure You’re Ready for Therapy?

If you are out there making it through and weighing up the pros and cons of starting therapy yourself, then this blog has you in mind.

Art therapy sessions could be that special time each week when you are completely attended to resistance and all.


Until next time,

stay creative,

Ellen







Comments


  • Facebook
  • LinkedIn

©2024 by Ellen Bowler-McCartney

bottom of page