Welp. It’s done! That’s right. I finally finished the book on grief, now officially titled, Complicated Grief, Attachment and Art Therapy: Theory and Treatment. I also received some pretty exciting tidbits from Jessica Kingsley Publishers, this week.
Here is the cover they have selected (my very own design! Created in collaboration with the typographical genius of the great Dale Shidler, of the Milwaukee Institute of Art and Design).
This wide ranging book on our therapy and grief provides everything and art therapist needs to feel confident in creating an effective treatment plan. It features 15 clear-cut protocols, outlining 4 -8 week curriculums for working with Complicated Grief, and explains the theory which informs the practice, including popular and evolving models such as Attachment Theory, Mindfulness, Dialectical Behavioral Therapy (DBT), and Art Therapy Relational Neuroscience (ATR-N).
Suitable for a variety of settings and clinical populations, the book breaks through the analytical jargon of the field and provides first-person narratives of art therapists exploring their own experiences of grief and client case studies.
- First book on art therapy and bereavement to examine the dynamcis of Complicated Grief specifically, which was added to the DSM in 2013.
- Contains 15 ready-to-use protocols.
- Up to date with popular and evolving theoretical models (e.g. Attachment Theory, DBT, Mindfulness and ATR-N).
- Relevant to art therapists working across a wide range of settings and clinical populations.
Perhaps not-so ironically, despite all of the excitement and feelings of accomplishment I have, after pulling this all together, I am touched by yet another wave of grief. It’s not a single image, thought, or a memory, that plagues me-though all of those things pass through me like a flickering movie screen-It’s more of a feeling of fear. A fear of opening up. Of confronting possibility, again. Of trying and failing. Of wanting and being disappointed.
And yet, to reflect on that fear, I find myself pleased; to me, it is a sign that I am progressing. It may look like regression, but it is in service of both ego and Spirit.
I’m not afraid of never loving again; I am afraid because I know I can, and will. Perhaps I am afraid of the work relationships entail, but when have I ever run away from hard work? I am afraid of this rolling energy inside me; this thirst that compels me to sit in the driver’s seat, when all I want to do is stare out the back window and weep. So, today, I shed tears, despite the smile on my face. And tomorrow, I will hand in a manuscript and put the keys in the ignition.