Dissociative Healing

Image by Ulrike Leone from Pixabay

The past came back to haunt me yesterday
I thought I was over all that
It suddenly came flooding back
When opposite my counsellor, I sat

I cried a river of tears
As I remembered the sickening pain
I didn’t want to go back to that place
To experience everything again

The adult within me departed
Although I was sat in my seat
I could feel myself drifting away
As my heart skipped its regular beat

My thoughts were transported elsewhere
To a time so long ago
The world seemed unreal as time transposed
My agony completely on show

I had gone somewhere else in my mind
Somewhere distant and safe
I couldn’t be touched from where I was hidden
As I became the child, the waif

Gradually soft words broke through
It’s okay, you’re secure, you’re here
The voice, far away, waited patiently
Till the muffled speech became clear

Her voice brought me back to the room
My head cleared as she reached out her hand
The fear left and the pain abated
As I began to understand

My adult returned; it was time to go
Slowly, I walked to the door
I thanked her and smiled as the sun shone in
For I knew I was healing for sure.

Please Be Careful Where You Tread

reach-for-the-stars be careful where you tread
Image source unknown

This is barely a poem; more of a ditty, so I hope you will excuse its simplicity. Despite spending the afternoon with a friend, I’ve been feeling rather low and introverted this evening, and my mind has been working overtime – probably too much time alone to think about my feelings.

If I want you to, would you love me true,
like it’s going out of fashion?
If I cry a tear, but you’re not aware,
do you think I’ve no compassion?
~~~
If I ask you to, would you stick like glue
and be there by my side?
If I don’t seem right, do you think I might
have died a little inside?
~~~
Do you seem nonplussed, I have issues with trust?
Do you know I’m not being rude?
If I’m slow to get going, I wonder if you’re knowing
I still like my solitude
~~~
If I can’t walk far and can’t reach the stars,
do you think that’s how I roll?
If I shiver and shake, don’t assume I’m fake,
and damn me with no parole
~~~
If it’s been a while since you saw me smile,
can you imagine what’s in my head?
Will you stop and think why I’m on the brink?
Please be careful where you tread.



The Shadow

I see a shadow in the mirror that I barely recognise

But a stranger in my room? No, I think not

But then, could I be mistaken? I’m not sure if I’d know

So, I carefully take aim and fire a shot

~~~

There’s a scream to be heard but is it him or is it me?

Is he wounded, lying bleeding on the floor?

Does my heart possess a scar or open wound to see?

Or has he crept very quietly out the door?

~~~

But, it’s late now; nearly black and the night is pulling in

Can you see him? Is he hiding out the back?

I am cautious, naturally; almost scared to take a look

Is he sane; a simple fool; a maniac?

~~~

There’s a monster in my mirror, and he’s staring back at me

Leave politely, shut the door and go away!

He won’t listen to my pleading, and he doesn’t hear me cry

Now it’s dark, and he’s bedded down to stay.

(Image source unknown)

Fragments

I will show you

fragments of me

myself

us

hesitantly

if you are kind

and have patience

to listen

and trust

~~~

I will open cupboard doors

that have been closed

for many years

and bring out

pieces of me

people

and truths

hidden

over my lifetime

~~~

Clumps

have been grabbed

thrown

to the ground

but I gathered them up

and tucked them away

in my mind

in my heart

carefully hidden

~~~

These pieces are me

if you see them

as superfluous,

say they are unimportant

are of no value

and without meaning

I will gradually

silently

hide them

once more

~~~

I will fold them

securely

in tissue paper

as if they were jewels

and place them

back into the cupboard

never to be seen again.

Coffee and Cake

(Photo credit: Simone’s Kitchen)

I wanted to share this poem in dedication to my dear friend, Jenna, who I’ve known for over thirty years. I worked as a home help (before I became disabled) for her and her husband with their three older children when I was a single divorced parent who brought up my two young children alone. I loved being at her house – it was a grand Georgian house with a sweeping staircase and mahogany panelled walls in the hallway, and I thoroughly enjoyed my work there. Lots to clean with all the nooks and crannies. We’d sit for an hour in the middle of my morning talking about all and sundry. I always made my coffee time up working later than my allotted time there. She was always there for me, and I for her.

About four years ago, having lost her husband and two older boys tragically, she moved down to the south coast to be near her daughter and granddaughter. She’s now living in a little cottage almost on the beach. She loves it there, and I’m so pleased for her. That’s not to say I don’t miss her very much because I do. She no longer drives, and I’m unable to visit her because of the distance and lack of accessibility of transport. She’s eighty-three now and becoming frailer in her old age. It worries me greatly as just recently, she’s started to deteriorate. I dread anything happening to her.

COFFEE AND CAKE

I miss the times we sat together
Over your heavy pine table
We drank coffee and ate dainty madeleines
As I poured out my troubled heart to you

That time spent together
Strengthened and deepened our friendship
We cannot sit there any longer
But, my friend, my memories are so fond

You saw me through my best and worst
Through a close-shave house move
Through damaging relationships
You soothed me as my mental health declined

You never once judged me, never criticized
Quietly there amid your own turmoil
And coffee and cake became a sigh of relief
Time to stop and share both joys and tears

Now, so far away with miles between us
You by the sea and me still in town
We still speak for hours, not every day
Perhaps, once or twice a week

We never tire of things to speak of
Often, putting the world to rights
We talk of our children, some lost, some grown
Partners and mothers long since passed

We talk and talk endlessly
I feel that I witness your life
In its goodness and its pain
As you too, witness mine

Our extended phone calls
Prove those miles between us
Hardly matter at all
But, my dear friend, I would give my all to see you again.

© Copyright Ellie Thompson 2022

A Pot of Tea

[Photo credit Deposit Photos]

I went and had a pot of tea
And sitting there were Mum and me
With toast and orange marmalade
Just like Mum had always made

It felt so grand, us eating out
A special day, without a doubt
We sat and talked till half-past-two
The waitress brought another brew

A red tea cosy on the pot
The tea inside was steaming hot
We let it cool a little bit
I fancied cake, I must admit

A slice of orange chiffon cake
Complete with bits of chocolate Flake
Served with a jug of double cream
It was delicious, quite a dream

We laughed and ate till half-past-four
We should be headed for the door
But I was loathed to leave the scene
This place where Mum and I had been

I stopped and thought and shed some tears
It’s now been over six full years
My reason is so very plain
I so wish Mum were here again.

A New Journey

(Image credit to Pixabay)

As you move towards this new chapter of life, I hope you learn how to let go of the idea that it’s too late.”

Unknown

When I first started my blog, eight years ago, it was certainly a very dark space to be in and my posts attracted a following of very hurt and equally damaged people, also in their own dark worlds. After very many years, I decided that I didn’t want to live like this anymore, so, I embarked on a journey of self-discovery. I read endless books (my favourite being, ‘The Mother Tree’ by Suzanne Simard), trawled through various websites and signed up for lots of courses. In the early days, they were topics like improving self-confidence, building good self-esteem, assertiveness training etc. (That last one was a toughie and one I never quite got my head around!). Oh, well, you can’t win them all!!

Then, I started signing up for courses on subjects that interested me. At the time, we were in lockdown so many of these courses had to be on Zoom. That was a challenge in itself but one, I quickly overcame. I did a lot of nature courses; I learned about British trees, wildflowers, fungi [fascinating], the islands around Britain, rivers and waterways; and then, there were things like aromatherapy for beginners, learning about crystals and fossils (that was spurred on by my nine-year-old granddaughter’s interest and determination to be a paleontologist when she grows up!) Quite impressive for a nine-year-old, I think. Now, I’m taking part in a series of writing courses, not so much spelling and grammar, but more creativity and thought expression. I’m in my element!

This was a simple poem I wrote a short time ago while I was digging deep inside of myself to find the ‘real’ me.

Turning life around was tough; so difficult to do
Secrets and nightmares, tar-black and sadly true
I’ve been through hell and trauma, and dealt with so much pain
Now, I’m learning to trust myself all over again

The thieves have all left and the abusers have gone
I’m free to dream and dance, and gently walk on
A brand-new life is waiting patiently for me
As I discover better and smarter ways to be

Such beauty to see in this new world of mine
Blue seas, emerald forests, beasts of every design
A pale waxing moon and the glory of the sun
My heart, soul and mind, all united as one

Now, I’ve so much to love and so much affection
Searched deep inside, and found a new direction
I’m joyfully grateful; perhaps, even wise
I’m honest and open, no need for disguise

Living my life now without shame or disgrace
Treading my new path; no blame at this place
Letting go of the guilt; being rid of the dismay
Searching out truths; at last, finding my way

If you knew me back then, eight long years ago
You’d know how hard I’ve fought, albeit progress was slow
See how much I’ve grown by the sweat of my brow
Judge me not as I was, but rather where I am now.

THE THERAPIST (J.G.)

therapist and client

Having not having written regularly for some time due to family circumstances, I suddenly find myself writing again and recently this and the previous post (poem), both of which have a lot of meaning for me, are very serious topics.

As those of you who have known me for a while will be aware, I had, some years ago, an emotionally abusive and very damaging relationship with a therapist (who I am no longer with). This affected my mental health hugely and I was hospitalised for a while following this ending.

I still carry a lot of anger about this although I have tried to deal with it in my current counselling. I wrote this poem which I feel, is certainly ‘telling’ of what was happening during those years with her and why I am finding it hard to deal with my anger and find forgiveness as I, perhaps, as I should for my own benefit. 

I lie amongst the shadows

The new born of the old

Such innocence destroyed

Yet, none of this foretold

~~~

The tales we spun together

Which she led me to believe

Magnified reality

Their purpose to deceive

~~~

The I Ching books and Angel Cards

Were poetry in motion

* William Blake’s descriptions

Assured of my devotion

~~~

My identity was stolen

Soon a puppet on a string

I learned to tell more stories

And I wrote of everything

~~~

She pulled me to her bosom

She offered me affection

A love I thought forever

Then came the cruel rejection

~~~

I wonder where she came from

As she led me down the lane

Leaving me abruptly

In excruciating pain

  • The reference to William Blake refers to the fact that his book, ‘Songs of Innocence and Experience’ was the poetry book that JG gave me as the first of many gifts

It has taken me a great deal of courage to write this and I know much can be read into this poem so if you have any comments or views, I will happy to reply to them. Thank you for taking the time to read this, Ellie.