Communiqué

            

            Kyle sat back in his chair and after marking the page placed the book on the coffee table.  That last passage had hit him right between the eyes. The desire to make things right and the inability to let go went far deeper than  anything that had come before on his spiritual journey.

            He felt the full emotional weight for the first time. Perhaps this therapy was meant to be. The effects of the therapy, while not pleasant, had opened up thoughts and feelings from the time he had stumbled through life and borne the brunt of ridicule and rejection. Ridicule and rejection that wasn’t half as hard on him as the thoughts and actions that led to a very deep self recrimination, self loathing, feelings of shame and failure.

            He gave an involuntary sniffle that masked the grieving that failed to come. The emotional roller coaster that would sometime soon see him with tears pouring down his cheeks as great suppressed wracking sobs would unleash the full fury of the abandoned and tortured child.

            Then would come the exhaustion that would lead to a few days and nights of restlessness and broken sleep, before reverting to having to become detached from the self imposed guilt, shame and overwhelming sense of failure.

            It was all tied to a few weeks before his fourth birthday when his father had finally succumbed to weight of injuries sustained many years before. No memories came, but over time snippets of conversations had allowed him to piece together how events of the following year had shaped his thoughts and feelings.

            What exactly had happened that took a four year old from a sunny and happy child to a repressed, angry and overly sensitive five year old? It was a catalytic year that shaped him into someone who was never satisfied with whatever level of achievement and was waiting for the next correction or retribution to come.

            The retribution had started shortly after his father died and continued for the next year,  breaking his spirit leaving behind deep feelings of inadequacy at not meeting others needs and expectations. Feelings of worthlessness.

            In the many times that his mind would become so overwhelmed that nothing made sense. Now many years later he sat in the room that was warmed by the late spring sunshine and pondered on how slowly the sort after clarity that was coming and would allow for peace and security at last.

            Since beginning the therapy panic attacks and overwhelming emotional meltdowns were becoming the norm. The great feelings of loss, rejection and betrayal that had been so much a part of childhood resurfaced and it was apparent that nobody really gave a damn.

            Everyone was so involved in their own little drama and crisis that listening was not a word in their vocabulary. The skill of eliciting conversations was useful to have a connection with another human being and would continue while he listened. Experience had taught a bitter lesson that as soon as he spoke of his own world, his own experiences or his own pain the conversation would dry up and end with some feeble fob off to end it.

            The one thing that meant anything now was the written word. It was comforting to be able to express what he was thinking and feeling without concerns of criticism or rejection which the past couple of years had served up.

            Rubbing his big hand across his tired face he allowed himself to experience the rush of emotions that he knew would come.

            Despite this, this mornings insight being profound and for the first time ever he was prepared to explore the buried memories and consciously uncover something of his father and that life changing year.

            The growing awareness was being embraced a small bit at a time. Leading to other small things that will eventually grow into a profound, clear vision and understanding and lead to the long sort after healing.

            Picking up the book again and opening it with the book marks continued to reflect on the words that had started it all. It seemed the author had been writing about that very deep spiritual thing that was a possible link to his father.

            A couple of decades back he’d undertaken mind power training and now was using to begin to unravel the deep seated memories that were knocking at the door of his consciousness.

            The over sensitivity to most situations, the outpouring of emotions that lay behind a very thin yet very hard shell spilling over into a frantic need to be heard. Often feeling very much like the four year old who frustrations became rage.