The Sandbox

Amnesia, Art, Healing

6/17/17

6:24AM

Authenticity

Back home. Very warm here but I’ll take it. Pete next to me in bed…I’ll take it. The fan blowing cool air while I type…I’ll take it. Stella in the spare bedroom trying to stay cool…I’ll take it. 

A

How do you feel?

S

I spent the plane ride reading a book because it was: 1. a good escape and 2. what I’m supposed to do to become a better writer (be a better reader.) 

A

What did we learn about writing?

S

It’s all about that narrative. Tell…tell…tell. So that’s what I’m doing. I go back and tinker a bit with Shinkansen—just a little bit. And I see I’ve done quite a bit of work post-Eileen but I’d been very, very hung up with transition—where I begin, three years later, from a perspective that’s more here/now—to talk about what happened. I see that I’ve been stuck in this place. 

And I wonder if I’ve been stuck here without knowing it because of needing to file the complaint. 

A

Does the complaint shift our perspective?

S

I think so. Over the past few days I’ve noticed that it’s given me a lot more room to feel…me…my life…my feelings. I’m scared witless about my parents more than anything these days—I feel so bad about them being alone. I woke with a pit in my stomach that I think might stay with me. 

But it’s okay—it’s okay to be worried about your elderly parents three thousand miles away who live alone without help. 

It’s okay to focus on it and being worried—it’s normal. 

What’s not normal is being hung up on bad therapy you were in years ago. 

A

Yes. 

S

So even if the BBS says the complaint has no merit still I’ve won. Filing has helped me to move on—swiftly—and for this I am grateful. 

B

Yes. But it does have merit. Otherwise it would not have done the damage it has done. 

S

B, good morning. How are you doing?

B

I am here, sitting in Park Bench Park. I stand—and sit—for never forgetting past assaults. 

S

What’s the view like this morning?

B

As you know, S, it is very warm today. So I lay still here, trying to stay cool. 

S

You are like my dad in some ways, B, who can barely walk anymore. He could not even go with me on tour around the backyard. It breaks my heart, B. 

B

Allow, allow, allow the heart to break and spill tears. This is the human path, the right path, the feeling path. 

S

I can feel my direction changing, B. I can feel the complaint and Eileen fading this morning. I can feel a considerable shift.

B

Me too. We focus on other things. Our heart opens up even more than we thought it could. 

 

6/18/17

6:04AM

Authenticity

I wake feeling room. This has been happening for a few days now. Eileen is…gone. The room is filled mostly with my parents and concern for them. 

This is my truth right now. 

A

Is it a truth you like?

S

Yes. I’ve cleared out an irrelevancy in my life and although what takes its place is challenging it feels appropriate. Which feels good. 

A

Wow. 

S

Bad therapy takes over. Like a cancer. It grows rapidly and mimics your real problems. Until you finally—if you can—wipe it out. 

A

The complaint wiped it out?

S

I think so. The complaint acted like a huge door I needed to slam shut. 

A

Yes. 

S

I feared that filing it would keep me attached. Instead, I feel its opposite. 

 

6/19/17

6:50AM

Authenticity

Cried buckets yesterday about my Dad, his inability to walk around in the backyard which my heart keeps coming back to, replaying it, over and over.

Even now…tears. 

A

Why do you think tears for this specifically?

S

I suppose there’s a lot for me in this image; my backyard growing up, my father then…my father now…so disabled. Pete brings up that he’s very able—can drive, his mind is sharp. And I get that and I get it when he says it’s too early to mourn but I also can’t not acknowledge this landscape or rather landslide of emotion that now comes. 

Filing the complaint nearly immediately seemed to open up access to all these very strong feelings. 

And although it’s hard I’m glad for it—it’s the right way. It’s the route to me, to my life, my family, my health. 

A

Our painful messed up therapy, unresolved for so long, was standing in the way. But, S, no more. Not Gods we thank you for the courage to hit send one week ago which moves us along in our journey. 

S

Thanks, A. 

A

Are there colors that comfort us, that we wish to spend time with? 

S

I’m not sure, A. Just thinking about powdery purple, the color of lilacs makes me cry. I think I need to try and just move on into the day. I thought to contact Teresa just to update her. 

A

You should. 

S

This is a Swamp Maple from my yard growing up. It reminds me of my dad. 

A

Yes. Good thoughts and hard thoughts--and feelings whoosh around. Allow, allow, allow.