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trauma

It’s a Blessing and a Curse

And then I began facing a challenge that psychologists eloquently describe as Catastrophisation – a word that most spell-checks still do not recognise. But, that doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. For a long time since my personal bereavement almost a decade ago, I became aware of a gnawing fear of future loss. A nasty bike accident made it stronger as did a few other stray incidents. It was almost as if I was creating a worst-case scenario for the future and willing it to happen.

What’s more, it was as though some voice within my head was convincing me that I had the power of divining my future, and maybe those of others who happened to be part of my ecosystem. Each time a piece of information came to my notice, a similar occurrence or instance from the past would bubble up and I would involuntarily join the dots to create the same outcome like last time. If that is difficult for my readers to comprehend, I don’t blame them. It is a mental health issue.

The ludicruousness of this exercise would pop out at me at most times, save for those where the force of historical context would push me towards a wannabe catastrophe. It happened in the past, and all of the data available now points to a repeat. Where was this coming from? An incident from this very day gave me some clarity and lots of hope that things aren’t as bad as I thought they would be.

During a conversation, I recalled instances from several years ago, which I promptly shared with my interlocutor. The only response I got for my efforts at unearthing a piece of information was “maybe, I guess so.” I was incredulous. ll those years back, it was my present interlocutor who had furnished me with that bit of information. Now the person claimed no memory of the same. WTF??? The person has no memory of it and here I was narrating it out. During this exchange, I also sensed a feeling of discomfort over the “frivolity” of my interlocutor. I mean how could they forget something they told me?

And then it snapped into place. The piece of information was irrelevant to both of us today. It may have had some relevance all those years ago, but didn’t serve any purpose now. And the person who had no recollection of it was in a happier place, not the one who carried it around in the depths of their memory. And in doing so, I suddenly became aware of how this very capability consistently helped me connect the dots around complex economic, political and geographic facts and events as part of my profession.

This was a habit I cultivated as a professional journalist back in the time when there was no Google, no internet and heck… no computers. Remembering data from a previous article helped me immensely while crafting a new one. Those days my pals used to describe it as the “Cow and the Coconut Tree” technique. This story revolved around a kid who uses her smarts to write about the latter when the examiner wants an essay crafted on the former.

It was indeed a blessing to have those days. However, today the very same habit has become a curse. One where the very same faculties that assisted me are causing me to connect the dots into an imaginary universe and then waiting around fearfully for their fruition. Events, incidents, words – things just come back swirling out of the mental mist when I least need them. Yes, you read that right. When I least need them. They make no sense and have no logic and not even an iota of emotion. They just spring up and convert a perfectly happy moment into one of mild panic.

So, how does one turn the curse into a blessing once again, I wondered. There is no easy way to do this, because when I try to break this pattern, it stops for a while. For that particular instance. Only to resurface with a new memory that’s long been buried. It wriggles out and fits perfectly into whatever it may be that I am processing at a particular moment. The stream flows on until something happens to distract me from that particular thought. The pattern repeats without my discretion.

So, what should I do? I asked a friend and mentor. The answer was simple. Stop running away from it. Just stay with it. Let it play out. Watch the thinker.

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Of Memories, dreams and reflections…

After running “Operation Cleanup” to take down random musings on a variety of subjects from this blog, I thought being psychologically naked was the next step. The point still holds good though the past fortnight brought its own challenges. Hardly anything from my six plus decades of existence surfaced. Random memories came through, from as early as two or three years after my birth. They appeared as I sat silent. But nothing made sense. It was only after a fortnight that certain patterns bubbled up. There were scattered dots I was attempting to connect in some cohesive order. Only one straight line emerged – instead of treating them as memories, I was giving my own reasons for why those instances occurred when they did. A second pattern came through later – these memories were seldom in chronological order – they were random. 

Image courtesy – Shutterstock thumbnail as I can’t afford to pay.

Recently, I had read somewhere that the sole difference between humans and other life forms is that we recognise time and space. At first this did not make much sense till I observed my pets – for them time denotes when hunger, play, pee, poop and sleep. The latter didn’t require any specific invitation – just lie down, yawn, close your eyes and enter dreamland. We humans are trained not to do any of the above minus a time reference, right? Our ecosystem trains us to be cognizant of time and space from childhood – more specifically by the time we get set for schooling. It is the schooling that comes before our schooling.

Anyways, I digress. When it comes to memories, time remains an important factor but not so chronologically. Over the past fortnight, my attempts to seek out my earliest fears became quite the ordeal. There were many. Like the first time I made friends with a dog. Or when I realized that catching a cockroach wasn’t kosher. Or that playing in rainwater wasn’t exactly a healthy pastime. Or the time when I found myself locked out of the house and banged my little fists on the door to be let in. As I mentioned earlier, the mind wasn’t really laying these out in chronological order. This left me more confused till a solution presented itself unconsciously. 

As a mass of flesh and bones, there is no way I could go back in time, but the ethereal mind could and did. Helped me accept my existence as a combination of body and mind. I became aware that the mind’s access to the past was happening in the body’s present. Right here, right now. So, I traversed into my past and filtered out some random memories. Once the chronology challenge was removed, what remained was what the mind wanted me to process. Sounds simple, but one can never be sure, can one? 

So among the myriad memories, the one that stood out was getting locked out of the house – when my parents weren’t home and only my paternal grandma and a home help were present. One moment I was talking to some friend outside and the other moment upon turning to go back, the front door was shut. I remember banging my little fists on the door, hollering at the top of my voice and crying like I have never done so since. The home help opened the door, pulled me in, picked me up and took me to my bedroom. It was as if the nightmare got over in an instant, just as it had started. Many years later, my mom gave me an explanation though I never asked for it. 

It did make an impact though. Today when the incident plays out, I barely recall the househelp and my grandma’s face is a blur. The only face I can remember is the horror-stricken face of the little boy aged three or four years. Wondering why he was thrown out or locked out. Wondering if he could ever get back into the warmth that a home offers as comfort and security. As this vision became clearer, the child’s face did too, before it blurs out. But, not before I recognise my adult face on the body of that child. As I aged, so did this face and today it was that of a 61-year old me.

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