Something weird just happened to me.
I don’t know how we came to have it, but in the back of my family’s small video collection is a VHS of The Neverending Story. Remember that? Rocky went to bed early, so Rukan and I watched it, just for kicks.
Dude. I cried when the horse died. Again.
But that’s not what was weird. When the credits were rolling and the theme song was playing at the end (“Neverending Stooooorrreeeeeee … aaah aaah aaah …”), and Rukan was fast asleep next to me, I had a mini reality break.
I mean, I sat there in my bed, at the end of a movie I watched when I was 11 or so, and I felt my body here in the present, but I was somewhere else. And I was petrified. If memory serves, that’s how I felt when I went into the psyche ward. I hate that feeling. What made it weird was that I haven’t felt that in a long time. Everything in my vision changes color, sound gets muted, my body goes numb and I usually curl up into a fetal ball and hyperventilate until somehow it passes.
I am not making this up.
I jumped up and ran to my blog to document it, to have somebody witness it (I don’t want to wake up Rukan), and to get it the fuck out of my system. I am starting to feel better.
I’ve been reading that damned Bradshaw book, the intro anyway, in preparation for that visioning work I’m going to do with Amazing Therapist, to parent the wounded inner child and all that. The author nails me. He puts what I’ve experienced my whole life into words that make sense, and he (and the therapist) are telling me that I can maybe finally accomplish deep healing and change, to really grow up and finally be a healthy, functioning adult without all this fucking shame and loneliness and traumatized-child bullshit running my life. I haven’t even started the work – I’m still in the intro! – and already I’m having flashbacks.