My Safe Base

I've been thinking about my past traumas and wondering what kind of peace I need to make with them. I have been thinking about all this and contemplating exactly what I want to happen in order to make sense of what has happened, find a safer place in my life, and somehow come to terms with it all. I think I know what it is; I want to take my counselor back to my parents' house and walk through it, all the while telling stories of things that happened.

I see this happening in a more rhetorical sense than in real life. I would walk through the kitchen and recall many a time that my dad slammed his fist into the table in rage that one of us wouldn't finish our plate and even recall the time a bowl shattered when he fist collided. Some how recalling these events and walking through these haunts with my therapist seems to make a lot of sense for me.

Walking through the piano room, I would recount the ritual of me playing the piano and dad coming in to hover right behind me and all the while I felt so nervous because I knew what was coming next that I would only mess up more. He would inevitably criticize and tear down my ability to play to the point that I was left in tears.

When we walked upstairs I would begin to delve back into deeper and more painful memories. I would distantly remark that too many terrible things happened in this home to ever feel safe here. As we walked into the emaculate room that my parents claim, I would disconnectedly get that glazed look on my face, remembering all the vile acts that happened in that room.

Somehow walking through these unsafe places with Jenna seems so much more therapeutic then walking through those fears and memories with anyone else. For me, taking a trip through the haunts with someone I trust with all of me and in my current state seems a way to make peace with the past.

I don't feel particularly safe alone and I think it is because I feel at times back years ago and the victimized feeling leaves me feeling paralyzed with fears. I find that with a seldom few and select, I feel a sense of safety. I feel that I can let my guard down. I am surprised at times by those that make me feel a sense of safety. I am not sure what exactly sets me at ease with those people but something tells me through all my senses simultaneously that it is ok.

I wish I felt safe more often. I think my loss of safety is what leaves me so sleepless most nights. It really isn't plausible for me to spend the night with people but when I am in Portland I spend the night many times with two of my friends. I find that those nights are nights that I sleep so soundly and so peacefully that I am shocked. I feel safe with those two and so I sleep, I really sleep.

I wish I slept more. I wish that I slept deeper. I wish that I slept without the torment of nightmares. I wish that I could somehow make my fears dissapate. Somehow, though, my fears are ever present and even the most rigorous therapy does nothing to abate them. I know my safe base has been screwed with by my dad and my brother and even my mom from the time I was a little kid until now. I just hope that one day I will feel like my home is truly a safe haven from the world.