Therapist Me (TM): Are you in your dark place today?
Sad me (SM): I am. I think I am losing the focus of the ‘why’ in life. Why should I wake up, go to work, talk, laugh, be me? This why was so sharp at first now I have to strain my eyes to see.
TM: And yet you get through the days and yet you live on.
SM: It scares me, this dark place and yet I see myself coming here more frequently than ever before. And the same things that used to calm me are now drenched in black shadows, grabbing at me with their cold fingers. The sound of the waves that always help me align my thoughts is now the inky black sea calling out to me. I want to walk into the sea.
TM: But you haven’t yet, I know you’ve been thinking about it lately, but tell me, however blurry it may look right now, tell me about your ‘why’.
SM: My ‘why’ is only the people I love and who love me back multiple fold. My ‘why’ is the one who holds me through the night when I cry wordlessly and the one who is not afraid of my dark place. The one who does not rescue me but waits until I find my own light.
I feel if Dad was around, I’d be more anchored and not feel as directionless in life.
TM: Look at the things you have managed to accomplish however small. Look at them closely, I see direction and focus. I see things that Dad would have felt so proud of.
SM: But he did not get a chance to see those things. I never got a chance to know what he thinks and aspires for me.
TM: You had the chance to know him closely enough to know what he thinks. You know just when he would be happy and when he would disapprove. You have him, his voice, right there. You just need to close your eyes and listen.
Me: Each time I come visit you my eyes are closed, in fear and pain and all I do is curl up and lie here. Feeling but not seeing, but today I feel stronger, enough to open my eyes, look around and ask you some questions.
Dark Place: You haven’t come visited me in a while. The more you come and stay, the stronger I get. We can talk for as long as you like till you stay with me.
Me: There is a locked cupboard in that corner there. Open it and show me what you have hidden.
Dark Place: It is full of broken things, your broken things. Ghosts of the past you banished, shards and pieces of all the things you did not become. Each one of those things are sharp, mind you, don’t touch them, they may hurt you.
Me: If I look closely first and accept those broken things as just a part of me, of who I was and who I am now, I know they won’t hurt me then.
Dark Place: And you think I would? Am I not too, only a part of you?