Client Missed - Session 5

(Beep.)

Life never goes how we planned

(Music fades in)

In some ways, that is to be expected, is it not? We have a limited perspective. We CAn’t see the entirety of the world. And so, there are details we are missing. There are things we don’t have. And sometimes it doesn’t matter. But sometimes it does. Sometimes it matters in unexpected ways. But this way was expected, wasn’t it? You had an inkling it would be like this, that it would all go this way. And at least, it’s the sort of best case scenario. Or that’s what I would call it. 

Getting help isn’t easy, I know. But it is possible. It was easy for you to lose sight of that possibility. And to construct some understanding of your life and of your future that counted on your miseries and suffering being overlooked, missed if you will. And we should be happy that the other meanings of the word don’t apply here. 

(Music fades out)

Because yes, you were overlooked, but you are still here. You have not been taken away. You aren’t being grieved. You are not lost. 

(Music fades in)

Permanently lost, I mean. There was a risk of that. There was a risk you would be taken away in a more permanent sense, but you’re working against that, now. You have some help now. You have the family and friends you summoned to your side, and a meeting with a therapist this week. When you get down to it, that’s a lot. And you’ll be surprised what a difference it all makes. It will take a while for you to realize it, of course. It’s a gradual difference. It’s one that does not always make itself known. 

And so, you feel as if nothing has happened. You feel no different than you did before. You feel adrift. You feel aimless. You still feel as if you are blowing about in a breeze you can’t control. You don’t just feel like a passenger to the currents that make up a human life; you know you are one. And you were used to that. But now, you’re a known passenger. You’re accounted for. You’ve been seen, spotted, as it were. And you don’t know how you feel about that. That’s the feeling you’re trying to parse out right now. That’s the one thing left for me to help you with.

But I don’t know if I can.

(Music fades out and new music fades in)

It’s not something I have the answer to, if I am to be honest. Which I think I have to be in this context. I think I owe you that much. But truth be told, I also struggle with being seen. It’s something that I want, admittedly. Everyone wants it. Even when they understand the consequences. Or even fear the consequences. There’s something in us that just has to have it.

Human beings aren’t meant to be alone, they say–the poets, the psychiatrists, seemingly everyone says it. And part of having others around you is having them or letting them see you. And that’s something you and I have both tried to avoid. Every other human being is perceived. Everyone around us is seen. Maybe only at home, but that’s where you were the most used to being ignored. That was where you wanted to be ignored. That was where you wanted to disappear from, right?

No, I’m not, you want to say. That’s where the desire to disappear started. But once that was added to your tool kit of life strategies, it became a sort of default.

And suddenly, you just wanted to disappear full stop. Self-awareness is a good thing to have in therapy. It’s something cultivated in therapy. You’re on the right track. 

(Music fades out and new music fades in)

But as a strategy it wasn’t sustainable. I told you this. You knew it even before I said it. You suspected your breaking point was coming. And you were afraid of it. You weren’t there yet, but you knew you were drifting too close to it and closer with every gust of air that hit you. There was no swimming to the shore. The choice was to scream or let yourself drown. And you wanted to be saved. 

You had to be seen to be saved. You need to be seen to be saved. You will need to be seen to be saved. All the verb tenses are relevant here. There’s safety in perception for the mentally well and ill alike. There’s safety in having someone know you are struggling, with a weight on your chest or the asthma in your lungs. But the eyes on you now still feel heavy. The gaze feels like a different sort of weight. Not quite a burden but something close. A different sort of pain.

(Music fades out and new music fades in)

I’ve known both types of heaviness. They are not the same. One is hell, and one is heaven. Uh. Forgive me. I’m pushing into religious allegory again. I try not to use it, but it’s been on my mind recently. But I’ve always thought the mainstream conceptions of heaven aren’t completely painless. There’s the loss or the absence of those you care about and an intense light overhead. There’s aches, to be sure. But they are bearable, I would imagine. They fade in time. They will not matter to you in time. 

But they mattered to me. There’s only so much the sinners can do, after all. Some of us just aren’t meant for heaven. But for everyone else, the walk gets easier. It’s meant for you, after all. It’s a journey that you were meant to take, that I know you can work. I could never say the same about myself.

(Music fades out. Beep.)

The Oracle of Dusk is a production of Miscellany Media Studios with music licensed from the Sounds like an Earful music supply. It was written, edited, produced, and performed by MJ Bailey. And if you like the show, tell friends about it or the quasi-friends that are still on your social media feeds because social norms evolved before words did, am I right?