Fans and decidedly non-fans of Moby Dick will remember “The Whale Chapter.” Like “The White Album,” that is not its name, but that is what I call it. In Moby Dick, Ishmael takes us on a long, slow ride through cetology, just as the Pequod’s voyage is getting under way. After the lengthy description of all things whale, Ishmael declares a whale a fish. I kind of like it.
My therapist thought it would be helpful to do a look back at our year of working together. After several attempts with markers and pencil and mixed media and my guitar, I decided to write it. That is what I do!
This can be my Whale Chapter from the trauma and tragedy I have been chronicling in my last two posts, and maybe my conclusions will ultimately be wrong! And I will declare a whale a fish. One can never be sure.
Over a year ago, I spoke with my doctor about how normal therapy was not helping. In fact, it began making me worse. Two places in a row had dumped me. One most unceremoniously. That is when I began getting pictures of my brain taken, and was referred to Trauma Informed Therapy.
There are two especially difficult pieces. The first is learning to establish and enforce my own boundaries (which may contribute to me living in a hotel room), but also how to be kind and mindful of others’ needs and boundaries as well. It is a difficult trick. I hope I am getting the knack of it. It is kindness.
Also, I learned to really forgive. I know we all have that spiritual ick inside us. That makes us feel shameful or unworthy. We all have it. Love it out of existence. Unclench, soften, breathe, relax right into it. And it will pass. You may even see what a lie it really was.
Have a therapist to guide you back to integration with those pieces that you want cut off. They will check your thoughts, or suggest a different point of view. A good therapist is invaluable. I never like when folks only take pills. That is just to steady the foundation. The work that you rebuild on is the work you put into therapy.
Anyhow, now for whales. I think I’m turning into Bob Geldolf in The Wall living in this hotel room. I even broke a guitar string. Yeh-heh! I can not get either my desktop or laptop online. So I have been doing credit stuff and online apps on my phone. It is not cool man.
I keep busy. I clean the place, practice yoga and guitar, do my work for the day, argue with my dog. Fairly normal. It’s not like I’m dying to get out. I mean, I have zero desire to go out in below freezing weather no matter the lovely backdrop. I would rather be warm and safe.
But, in the end, it is liberating to be able to name and call out your problems. But be careful. You must face it, fighting will take you down with it. Learn it, know it, name it, face it, but you fought that monster once. Do not try that again.
And now I’ve come to the next part of my assignment: figuring out what to do with the rest of my life. Yeah. That is all. Get over my recent traumas, move, restart life with new purpose. Whales are fish. And I’m happy to be back in the USSR, thank you.
– JL ✌🏼💚🖖🏼🎸💐🕺🏻
Got a COMMENT? Click below! I love the feedback. If you like what you’ve read, TAP the Star LIKE button below. LIKE and SHARE on Facebook. Follow and share on Twitter