Life Then

2024 Author: Harry Day | [email protected]. Last modified: 2023-12-17 15:43

Life then.

Like a child next to a parent, the client stays in his experiences next to a psychologist, living, albeit unconsciously, all those painful moments of his archaic and incomprehensible child's life. Probably part of the problem is that we grew up leaving life itself behind us, and it, abandoned by us, lives for itself there, in the past, repeating over and over again in front of us scenes of our incomprehensibility of our life experience, like a New Year's play for children, life is spinning in front of us such as we last saw her in childhood.

There was such silence all around, these concrete walls, looking down at me with a reproachful gaze, as once upon a time, looked down on me, a huge giant with stubble, gray sky of eyes, whirlwinds of hair, and this silence reproaches me. When I look at tall gray houses, I feel like I'm at home. Now I can't even imagine how you can love this god without being afraid of him. Or am I still afraid of him? What could be higher than my dad in my childhood? And as if growing up, I myself become him, and already I look at my mother through his eyes, and all those incestuous fantasies, unconscious feelings, in his eyes, the hatred of an offended impotent boy tormented by narcissistic trauma, all this legacy falls on me from above the gray silence of his eyes. It's like a transgenerational bluetooth, information is transmitted from one generation to another by gaze.

It's really hard to believe that all these things, like the Oedipus complex, exist in reality, and it’s unbearable to find out about your participation in this drunken orgy of family madness. It is much easier to weak-willedly obey the call of unconscious impulses and do, do, do, what I must (oh, of course, I want to, but I must not) do. And everyone will be happy. Posthumously.

This performance is anonymous. Participation in it is strictly classified for the participants, otherwise there will be no intrigue. What seems obvious is false, what seems to be controversial does not exist, diversion of libido to the right, to the left is punishable by diseases and mental disorders. We are more than dependent on this damn Oedipus scenario, everything is predictable to the smallest detail, inevitably, sung and described, necessary for growth and maturation, cleans the brain with the same and smears it. No one leaves the hall without playing the main role, all the spectators, these are actors, all the scenes, these are beds, all knowledge is useless. This is the nature of life, even if we do not believe in either nature or life.

Whoever did not hide is to blame. Guilt is the best that awaits me ahead, and a long path of repentance, with torments of the soul and maturation of the mind. The complete loss of sight here is like a prize to the winner, not to see either himself or the former members of the team, not to see anything in this world that would remind of this terrible, tragic, and such a close incident, looking at him point-blank. Another would be to go deaf so as not to hear the nonsense that I am talking about my innocence to all this, but, apparently, this is a completely different story.

Staying in this endless story is much easier than trying to get out of it. There are many temptations in it, many prizes and awards, well, as well as a lot of disgust, evil and madness. Such is the exam before entering adulthood, such is the beginning. And for many, the end.