“Whether the trauma had occurred ten years in the past or more than forty, my patients could not bridge the gap between their wartime experiences and their current lives. Somehow the very event that caused them so much pain had also become their sole source of meaning. They felt fully alive only when they were revisiting their traumatic past.”
The Body Keeps the Score
-Bessel Van Der Kolk
I constantly think I stick to the bad memories out of some desire to remain in the past and not progress into this enmeshed globular form that constitutes adulthood or “Life.” Like keeping hold of a shattered mirror prevents me from taking that hard look at myself. But who am I kidding I do that regularly and have to keep pushing to improve something or other in a vainglorious attempt at self-improvement and reconstruction. It’s like getting a contractor and evaluator (appraiser?) for a house and more little blips enter the situation and more fixing and mending must be done done done. I figure I’m at the middle, like always, and the tug-o-war is looping and confused. I intellectualize these habits and obsessions but the brain is the focal issue, the damage is localized there and you can’t think you’re way out or reason against the lacking. If guilt and regret are the Kool-Aids of youth then they must also become a panacea and a comfort zone with known fears and anxieties, new ones are the unknown abyss. The big bad becomes another addiction, another substance to abuse and cling to. This all makes me feel like I’m in a race and always end up in third place. Need For Speed: Existential Paradox.