Image result for old man at a desk

My God.

No, not that one. Or any one, for that matter – except maybe the entity I light an incense stick to most mornings and think of my grandparents, my sick mother, and my partner, before turning to face the sky outside and praying for all war to stop. Does that count?

But, to the point: trauma therapy is tough; tougher than probably anything I’ve ever done. Facing down a hundred upset prisoners was a breeze compared to an hour a week in a small room with an intelligent Clinical Psychologist and trawling through things I’d either forgotten about or kept hidden. This week’s revelation was spat out by me at the end of the hour, hands shaking, trying not to sob – ‘OK, I feel vulnerable…. There. Done.’

I hadn’t said those words ever, to anyone. I’m a tough guy. I like to think I am, and when the chips are down that might well be true, but there is something else within touching distance beyond the blue veil of time and the brown curtain of finely honed bullshit. I saw it with my own eyes. I’m vulnerable; still a frightened child terrified in his bedroom, waiting to be killed. Seems like what I thought was all wrong. I didn’t shake it off as I got physically bigger, it just stayed there and festered, and got rotten.

This whole rotten mental health thing is a crock of shit. No redeeming features and no way out at the moment. I’m reduced to bleating; humourless; unable to appreciate anything I do or have ever done. No point to any of it.

Here I sit, at my old desk by the window, in the light of dawn, morose, belt too tight, glancing out at the foulness of nature. A horror film monster. Old and ripped off.

Hohoho, eh?

The power of talking therapies. Done right they are more potent than any drug I ever wolfed down with a six pack of Heineken. The tricky bit is finding the valuable parts. And if you are not careful, before the sun has risen up over the rocks, you could be sitting pressed up against the window, like me, spectating rather than participating in life. These are the two choices I have today, right now, maybe forever.

See you outside.


One thought on “Vulnerable

  1. The power of vulnerability…it’s tricky, yet necessary for personal growth. Stay encouraged.

    Liked by 1 person

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