I don’t remember much but the bits I do I will savour. It was just me and my therapist, and we were in a little swimming pool together – who knows where. All I remember is we were swimming; and her – slowly, safely – moving towards me to gather me into her arms.
The water is one of the safest places for me, and she could sense it. It was like being back in the womb, back with “mother”, but held even more tightly within that special space. She held me like I was a fragile baby and though I felt confused and awkward, it was exactly what I needed. For the first time in for ever I felt whole.
When I woke up, I cried. I cried because it wasn’t true. I cried because it never will be. I cried because I am lonely and I am sad and it has been this way for years. I cried because the comfort and soothing I crave is just an illusion of something that cannot ever exist in reality. I cried because it is too late. And then I stopped crying – because there is nothing I can do about it.