On Thursday, I met with N. The experience was powerful and confounding. I commenced jotting notes to myself in an attempt to unpack what had taken place. This series of posts reflects the trajectory of that day, and my associated analysis.
 

I am a little bit puzzled. This series of posts was triggered by a sun dappled afternoon sipping coffee. The event was buoyant, positive, spring like, seductive.

The immediate memory was associated with those words. Event memory has since become sidetracked into issues of trust. This transition is not understood. I find myself acting as the Sherlock Holmes of my own mind, trying to decipher whatever secret clues my grey matter casts in front of me.

I drew a blank until I went back to read the reviews for a book N had suggested to me. There I found the phrase “feigning normal.” These words became a clue to what is bothering me. They also signify why the meeting with N had such a positive effect. I am not sure I am able to unlock all the associated secrets in a single post. In fact, I am positive that I cannot. But I can work like a sculptor and break small chips off the stone. Done carefully, slowly, with skill, this action should gradually reveal the secrets held locked within the marble.

First Passage

The injury results in lies to myself. I want to return to my pre-injury state. I want this so much that I am quick to assume progress, to think that I have made a partial recovery, that I am now OK. I make this assumption and the cold hand of reality then slaps me across the face with a wet fish and tells me “Wake up buddy. Pay attention. You’ve got problems.” It is a very humbling experience.

Second Passage

Change the last line to read “It is a humiliating experience.”

Third Passage

I remember a few years ago speaking to Dr H or Dr D about not feeling “safe.” I failed to understand precisely what I meant by this. I had to be careful when driving. That was and remains true. But I was no longer in the Coast Guard bouncing around an endless ocean in a rubber thimble of a boat. Other than on a roadway, there was no circumstance in which I was not physically safe.

When I think of “feigning normal” I begin to think of psychic safety.

Fourth Passage

The sense of safety, or the lack thereof, arises from the fact that I made constant social faux pas. I found myself unable to correctly perform all those social etiquette functions considered “normal.” I could not trust myself. I therefore felt unsafe in groups, in social settings. I did not feel fully safe until I returned home. There was a sense of relief when I finally reached my front door. I had been out in the world and had made it back. I hadn’t angered, upset, or confused anybody. I was safe.