From The Deep: Why Can’t The Past Just Stay In The Past?

It’s been one of those days.

Where old hurts that I hadn’t even remembered in years came flooding back. Where people I had forgotten about, reappeared in my mind. Trying to push it aside. Trying to forget again. This pain is too much. I don’t want to feel it. Yet I do feel it. And I can do nothing about it, because once again for reasons beyond my understanding, I am unable to shed a tear. Oh, I know other ways to try stop the pain. But it doesn’t always help either. Or am I just doing it wrong? A rhetorical question, I guess.

Along with these memories, came this song. A song I never would have discovered or even liked, but which quickly became very special to me. Both a source of comfort at times, and of utter devastation at others. I was sent this song by one of those forgotten people. I hadn’t realized I had kept it all these years. I don’t want it anymore. I don’t want to remember it. The events that led to me receiving this song. The reason for it. The meaning behind the lyrics. What happened after. Yet it feels like a part of me and I can’t seem to let it go yet. Why do we hold onto things? Why can’t we just leave the past where it belongs?

From The Deep lyrics:

Your dreams
Your prayer
I can’t believe
Can’t be just pain
Your days your ways
In all these tears
In all these screams

From the deep my call
There is one reason for your life
One more reason for your life

Here I am
Please don’t cry
Till the end to say goodbye
Here I am
And here my prayer
I’m still here and in your days

From the deep my call
There is one reason for your life
One more reason for your life

This is the life
Too short to die
To hard to stay
We’ll meet again
These words for you to say goodbye

Perfect day for the rain
Hear my song to say goodbye
Till the end of this life
When the light goes away
Hear my song and hear my cry
It’s not the end of your life.

Here I am please don’t cry
Till the end to say goodbye
Here I am and hear my prayer
I’m still here and in your days

When Words Fail

Some days we just don’t have the words. Some days we just don’t have the strength. And sometimes a song can speak for us. This is one of those times.

“Breathe Me” Lyrics:

Help, I have done it again
I have been here many times before
Hurt myself again today
And the worst part is there’s no one else to blame

Be my friend
Hold me, wrap me up
Unfold me
I am small and needy
Warm me up
And breathe me

Ouch, I have lost myself again
Lost myself and I am nowhere to be found,
Yeah, I think that I might break
Lost myself again and I feel unsafe

Be my friend
Hold me, wrap me up
Unfold me
I am small and needy
Warm me up
And breathe me

The Dream And A Missing Psychologist

I find dreams fascinating. Even nightmares.

Growing up, I had a few recurrent dreams. They have stuck with me through the years, and every once in a while (very rarely at least) I have one of them again. I’ll write about each one sometime.

Now, I have a new dream. I’ve had it only once before, but even one repeat tells me there are issues I need to deal with.

The first time I had this particular dream was during one of my own vacations, and I couldn’t see my therapist that week.

I had the same dream again last night.

I go into my old living room and see my dad, a woman from our past, and my new stepmom. The woman has blood all over her face, and is sitting on the couch, which is also full of blood. He looks mad. And I know he did that to her. My stepmom is quiet and just standing there. My dad starts shouting and screaming. I tell them I’m just going to the bathroom and will be right back.

Terrified, I go out into the hallway, take out my phone and start looking for my therapists number, so I can call her and ask her what I must do. Do I phone the hospital or the police or both? Remember this is a dream, so even though the answer is simple in waking life, it didn’t work that way here. Anyway, my phone doesn’t respond, and does its own thing. Opening other apps and not allowing me into my contact list. I’m getting extremely frustrated and panicking.

Suddenly, I find myself outside. Everything is grey and there’s a heavy mist all around. I realize I’m standing in water up to my knees. I feel this urge to look for something. Only I don’t know what. There are big, tall buildings all around me, and I’m walking through narrow spaces between the buildings. I’m getting anxious, claustrophobic and overwhelmed. All the while I’m still trying to find my therapists number. I eventually manage to get into my contact list, but her number isn’t there anymore. There’s no trace of her anywhere on my phone. All the messages I had, also gone. As if I had never met her. As if she had never existed.

The water (that I’ve been walking through the entire time) starts getting deeper. Dark water, black as tar. My next step, I plunge down into the water, as if the ground had just given way beneath me. I struggle to the surface and manage to come back up for air. Just as I take a big gulp of air, something pulls me beneath the surface again.

I wake up in a panic, and check my phone. Everything is still there. Momentary relief.

It seems to happen when I don’t see my therapist for a week or more. I’ve only started seeing her at the beginning of last month, so the therapy process and these feelings toward her are still relatively new. By the time we have our next session, it would have been exactly 2 weeks since our last one. What is 2 weeks? For me… A lifetime. So I know this dream has a lot to do with my fear of her not being around anymore, of her not coming back. Of forgetting about me. Which is extremely frustrating because I know logically that it’s not true. But my logical center either suffers from memory loss or has a short attention span. The emotional part then takes over quickly, throwing me into a panic, and convincing me of the opposite. The fear is soothed (for a while at least) when and if being reassured that said person will indeed come back. It’s a special type of torture that only those who experience the same thing will be able to understand.

I follow Dr. Gerald Stein’s blog (which I highly recommend if you haven’t stumbled upon it by now), a retired Clinical Psychologist who often blogs about psychotherapy. It’s always helpful to read things from a therapist’s point of view. And this article I read seemed fitting for this post:

‘Managing The Dread Of A Therapists Vacation’

Feel free to offer any of your own interpretations of this dream if you wish. It’s always interesting to hear other people’s perspectives.

Gone

I wish I could make myself disappear.

It’s all too much. I want to sleep and never wake up.

A darkness so thick and overwhelming I don’t know where I am.

I’ve been trusting these past few weeks. Far too trusting. Now wounds have been opened, and attempts to close them are not working. I want to say “fuck it all”, “fuck you world”, and climb back over that disintegrating wall in an attempt to fix it. Safe behind it. At least partly safe until it’s back to its full strength. Allowing myself to climb over the wall, and having people hammer away at it at the same time might just have been my biggest mistake.

I don’t know if I can be healed or “fixed”. I don’t even know if I’m broken. Maybe it’s all just an illusion. Maybe none of this is real anyway. Maybe I have lost my mind, and my body is lying motionless somewhere, with everything going on only in my head.

A choir of voices filling the oceans within me.
“You’re worthless.”
“I’ll give you something to cry about.”
“How can that possibly upset you?”
“You’re a piece of shit.”
“Children should be seen, not heard.”
“You’re just like them.”
“You’re stupid.”
“Why can’t you be more like … She’s perfect”
“I hate you.”
“Get over it.”
“Stop being a baby and just get up.”
“Your feelings don’t matter right now”
“Can’t you do anything right?”
“I wish you would just die.”

Who’s voices are those? I can’t even tell anymore. It doesn’t even matter. Nothing does.

She just wanted someone to sit with her awhile when she couldn’t get out of bed.
She just wanted to be heard.
She just wanted to be held when the tears were falling fast.
She just wanted to be protected.
She just wanted to be understood.
She just wanted to feel worthy.
She just wanted you to love her.

But she is not here right now.

She’s gone.