The author can be found rummaging through life looking for nourishment in the early hours of the morning. He is slowly going sane by using his actual life and relationships to wake up.He lives in Cape Town with his teenaged daughter, two bassett hounds named Thelma and Louise and Digit... the cat. He hugs trees, has experienced numerous dark nights of the soul, collects incorrect Chinese packaging and tracks curious things to their lair.
Just hold on…Psychotherapy October 19, 2014 - 7:01 am No Comment
October and people are soul-weary. They come in, clutching the fragmented parts of their lives to their chests like children with arms that are too small for their big lives. I am often struck with awe by the sheer determination some people show in getting through each day.
So many struggle for so long, alone, convinced that no one understands their plight.
The addicts, wrestling with crippling craving, desperate to gather enough escape velocity to step into warm sunlight. The depressive sin-eaters, suffocating under an internalized critical, punitive voice that tells them that they are never ‘good enough’, constantly viewing their bodies and their efforts as places of defeat. Those crucified by fear, the world crawling with terrifying pitfalls filled with horrible fates. The narcissists, hypnotized by tales of their own glory, full of brittle rage and fearful of their own shadows. Not to mention the multitude of others who painstakingly construct public facing selves stuck together with chewing gum, rubber bands and fragile hope.
At some stage, we all unravel just a little bit. A small crack appears in the reflection we see of our selves. Some people choose to ignore the cracks, treating them as rumours until they are finally forced (often by calamity) to look at what they have repressed for so long…and then, all they can see is darkness. Others choose to obsess over the tiniest of hairline fractures (which we all have), scratching them into a gaping, infected wounds where every interaction is contaminated by its distorted taint.
What is important, is to get some perspective. I have few friends who can hold me accountable, with fierce compassion. Therapy is certainly not the cure all but it can help in bringing one gently to the working surface required for growth.
The truth is, you are not alone, nor have you ever been. You are connected in ways which you may refuse to use, or no longer trust, or do not even know exist. Reach out, extend those numb fingers to an other. Blow warmth into your doubting heart. Support is available even in the darkest of hours.
I now know this to be true.