As we traverse the winding paths of life, our memories serve as fragments of our past, each snapshot holding a piece to our story. I grew up in the era of disposable cameras, developed photographs, photo albums, and for the creative few - scrapbooks. One thing I believe all of us do, is we return back to those captured moments in hopes of reliving our youth and the memories we once made.
Yet, for some of us, the memories remain elusive, hidden deep within our minds - hoping to remain uncovered.
As I return to my collection of photographs stored away in a decorated worn-out shoebox in the top corner of my closet, I am confronted by the realization that my recollection of the early years of my childhood are shrouded in obscurity. As I gaze upon these photographs, they evoke no familiar echoes within the chambers of my mind.
This young girl surrounded with family and friends, smiling from ear to ear, participating in a variety of activities. She seemed so happy, so outgoing, so carefree, and most of all - so full of life. Yet, every time I gaze upon them, tears fill my eyes as I ask myself - Who was that carefree girl, basking in the warm embrace of loved ones, captured in those moments of joy? And why do I struggle to reclaim her essence, to reconcile her image? Why have these memories faded into the dark corners of my mind, as if held captive by it?
Instead, my thoughts are haunted by memories unbound by the confines of a photograph—echoes of pain and trauma that linger in the recesses of my consciousness, festering like wounds left untended - but only in limited flashes. Limited flashes that fail to reveal full truths, truths that my mind is wanting to shield me from their discovery. These are the type of memories we bury deep within ourselves, shielding them from the harsh light of remembrance, lest they unravel the delicate threads of our sanity. They are the fragments of our past we dare not confront, for fear of the darkness they may unleash if we do.
Our minds have a remarkable ability to protect us from overwhelming pain and trauma. When faced with experiences too distressing to bear, they may employ coping mechanisms such as dissociation, creating gaps in our memories as a means of self-preservation. These fragmented recollections serve as a protective shield, shielding us from the full force of our past traumas. Yet, in doing so, they also obscure the truth of our lived experiences, leaving us disconnected from our own stories and ultimately our identity.
But even amidst the shadows, I find myself drawn to the edges of my consciousness, compelled by a relentless curiosity to unearth the secrets that lie buried within. What lies hidden within the depths of my subconscious? What truths do these obscured memories hold, waiting to be unearthed?
With each tentative step into the abyss of my own mind, I confront the specters of my past, tracing the contours of my fears and unraveling the tangled threads of my emotions. It is a journey fraught with peril, as I navigate the treacherous terrain of my own inner landscape, confronting demons long relegated to the shadows. Yet, I'm left constantly wondering - will this journey lead me to liberation and freedom? Or will it lead me to my ultimate demise?
I turn to the wisdom of scripture, seeking solace and guidance, as I embark upon this odyssey of self-discovery.
Psalm 139:23-24
"Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me and lead me in the way everlasting."
It is a prayer of surrender, a plea for divine intervention as I confront the shadows that threaten to consume me. The ones that have taken hold of my reflection - grasping onto it so tightly, that I fear it will eventually constrict me to my final breath.
Psychologists, too, shed light on the intricacies of our inner worlds, offering insights into the process of confronting past traumas and reclaiming our true identity. Dr. Bessel van der Kolk, a renowned expert in trauma therapy, once remarked, "Trauma is not just an event that took place sometime in the past; it is also the imprint left by that experience on the mind, brain, and body." His words serve as a reminder that our experiences are etched into the very fabric of our being, shaping the way we perceive ourselves - who we see gazing back at us in our own reflection.
And so, with determination in my heart and tears in my eyes, I take my first tentative steps towards reclaiming the reflection that is rightfully mine. For buried within the depths of my memories lies the key to unlocking my true identity—a journey that promises to be as tumultuous as it is transformative. And though the path may be fraught with peril, I press onward, guided by the flickering light of hope that illuminates the darkness within.
Forever and always,
Catherine Denise
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