My Facebook status says "My therapist says to talk about it. When I'm in that dark place where the monsters and skeletons and secrets live I'm supposed to talk and tell the story as many times as I need to. I'm trying and it's so hard." You know, in that dark place it isn't the dark or the monsters or the skeletons that are scary; we've been friends for a long time, no, they're there to protect the secrets and to protect me from them. We all have to have a place to keep our secrets, the real secrets the ones that truely no one else knows about, and I keep mine in the box.
Sometimes I go tiptoeing around my head, poking and prodding at things, making sure it's not too chaotic in there, usually everything is in relativly good order. And then I come to the room with the box; that box that holds my memories and my deepest darkest secrets. The box is really more of an old steamer trunk; it's big and beautiful and ornate, at frist when I see the box all I want to do is open it, something so beautiful must hold something amazing. I'm always so sure that I want to pull all of those old memories out and lose myself in them for awhile. When I start getting closer to the box, though, I realize that it's not so pretty after all. These small black tendrils are snaking their way out from under the lid and I know that if the big ones get out they might just pull me in with them.
Sometimes I see the monsters guarding my box, making sure that all stays quiet in the dark in my mind. They do such a good job; they don't have to fight with the things in the box anymore ( I think they used to a lot), they just stand there to remind the things of their place. But sometimes it's the skeletons that I see. They are the ones that keep me from getting into the box. Sometimes I try to just open the box, just enough to peek inside. Other times I try to take it with me; I don't want my memories down there in the dark. Those skeletons are always there to stop me, saying "Look what happened last time you opened the box. It's dangerous and you can't risk losing yourself in there again." So I shut the lid and I trudge back up to the surface and the real world.
Currently my skeletons and I are in negotiations. They don't want me to open the box, but I know I need to. I'm introducing them to the lifelines; the people that are there to pull me back out when I start going under and the ones that can fight of the nasties when they start coming after me. I think the skeletons like these people, but they are worried. I'm worried too. What happens with this box is open and everything is allowed to escape? Will everything be allowed to escape, or can I pull one piece out at a time?
I suppose that we'll find out. For now I just keep poking around in the dark place; I really do like it in there, it's calm and comforting. I go over to the box and sit on it and talk to the things in it, or on the bad days I kick it and scream and yell at the things inside until I'm so exhausted that I can't even look at it anymore. Days like today, I just stare and wonder.