Drown

Lake

Reflecting back on my childhood, it often feels like a distant dream, one that I have just awakened from. The memories are hazy, and I struggle to recall many details. Strangely enough, it seems that I only remember the good moments, while the bad ones have faded into the background, as if they never even existed. However, my mind is slowly piecing together fragments of the past, and in doing so, it awakens long-forgotten pain that I have been shielding myself from.

As I share these thoughts, I can't help but acknowledge that you, as my therapist, hold the expertise to guide me through this journey of self-discovery. Of course, I've come to realize that therapists often have a penchant for stating the hard truths and mirroring your own words back to you - a practice that can sometimes feel uncomfortable. Nevertheless, I recognized the need for answers and sought therapy as a means to find them. The weight of my experiences has become too much for me to bear alone.

However, the first therapy session confirmed my fears. It felt like a futile exercise, with little progress made. Disappointed, I left the therapist's office and found myself standing at an intersection, lost in my thoughts. It was then that a simple sight triggered yet another vivid flashback from my childhood.

I remembered a family trip, a journey that seemed endless and left me exhausted as a child. But eventually, we arrived at a beautiful lake. I can still feel the surge of excitement as I saw the ice cream van approaching. The anticipation of jumping into the tranquil waters overwhelmed me. Yet, my mother, ever the responsible one, urged me to help unload our belongings from the car before indulging in any fun. Obediently, I followed her instructions, pleasantly surprised by how quickly the task was accomplished. It was as if an extra pair of hands had magically appeared.

While others prepared the barbecue and set up the table, I sat on the deck overlooking the lake, my feet dangling above the water. In this particular memory, I seem to be engaged in a conversation with someone, perhaps an imaginary friend that existed solely within the bounds of my childhood imagination. My mother, who had always been overly protective, appeared strangely relaxed on this day. It was a rare deviation from her usual cautious self.

As the enticing aroma of the grilled meat filled the air, my mother called out for me, signalling that lunch was ready. Excitedly, I prepared to run back to her, but my first step was halted by a loud crack beneath me. In that instant, I found myself suspended in mid-air before being thrust into the depths of the lake. Panic consumed me as I struggled to stay afloat, desperately fighting against the currents. Despite my limited swimming skills, I mustered every ounce of strength to reach the surface, only to feel something entangle my feet and pull me back down, deeper into the watery abyss. The water invaded my lungs, suffocating me, and I could barely manage to gasp for air. I cried out for help, each desperate plea accompanied by a stream of bubbles.

And then, in a moment of sheer terror, I heard a resounding splash beside me. My father had leaped into the water, his sole focus fixed on pulling me to safety. Clutching me tightly in his arms, he lifted me back to the surface, gasping for air. Leaving me in my mother's arms, he immediately dove back into the water, compelled by some unknown force.

Why did he return to the water after saving me? The answer remains shrouded in mystery. Emerging once more, his face etched with despair and shock, he stretched out his empty arms, as if still holding something, though I saw nothing. Tears streamed down my mother's face, and the details of that memory fade into darkness.

The blaring horn of a frustrated driver behind me snapped me back to the present. The intersection was empty, and I continued my journey home, deep in thought, grappling with the revelations uncovered during therapy. The pieces of the puzzle in my mind were slowly connecting, but the final picture that they formed remained elusive, leaving me yearning for answers.