Go with me on a journey…
Imagine, and I mean really imagine, that you are lying on a flat surface. You are laying rigid and the cold, hard surface hurts your back and makes your hips ache. You want so badly to get up but something is holding you back. You think if only you could get up that everything would be okay but in the back of your mind you’re not so sure. You’ve been there, you’ve done that and you know better.
Lying there trying to figure out what to do next, yet having no energy to do anything, you see something coming at you from above. It descends slowly but with purpose. You lay there thinking you need to move but feel helpless to do so; something is keeping you where you are. As this thing comes into view you get a better look. It is dark and gray. It looks ominous and strong. You realize it’s a blanket, a wool blanket. A wet, heavy wool blanket. Before it touches you, you know it’s going to envelope your soul.
Unable to move you feel it drop onto your body. It’s heavy, the heaviest thing you’ve ever felt. It is wet, cold and overwhelming. You can’t move. You are paralyzed not only by the weight but the sheer darkness of the blanket. It conforms itself to your body and you know it’s going to stay awhile.
You lay there for a long time thinking about the blanket. How can you not think about it when it’s encompassing every fiber of your being? You feel a deep, painful sadness begin to crush your heart. It hurts and it hurts and it hurts but you don’t know why. What is causing this debilitating, heart wrenching ache? You don’t understand and it scares you.
You know you have to do something but you’re not sure what so you decide to sit up. You try to move under the weight of the blanket but it’s relentless in it’s determination to hold you down. You struggle and push and move as best you can. For what seems like days, weeks then months you struggle but eventually you are able, with much effort, to sit up. You did it. You fought the darkness and heaviness of the blanket and you sat up but what you see stuns you.
You realize you are in a room. It has no windows. It has no doors. It is painted a dark, charcoal gray and the floor is black. You look around, trying to find something to focus on but there is nothing but darkness. You’re confused. How did you get here? Why are you here? There are no answers so you sit. You wait.
Time goes by but nothing changes. The room remains dark and the wool blanket stays heavy and wet and unrelenting. All you have to keep you company are your own thoughts. In the darkness of the room these thoughts turn dark as well. They tell you bad things about yourself. They tear you down and tear you up.
Time goes by slowly, painfully. For all you know it’s been years since you found yourself in this room. Suddenly you hear a sound on the other side of the walls that hold you prisoner. It’s a pounding noise and a voice. You can’t quite make out what’s being said but you know someone is there. You begin to feel hope.
The pounding gets louder as one of the walls begins to crumble from the outside. The voice, once muffled, is becoming clearer. “Don’t give up. I’m here.” As the wall comes tumbling down, the light from the other side blinds you. For a moment you can’t see but slowly someone comes into focus. Someone you trust. Someone who wants to help you.
They come to your side and put a hand on your shoulder. You begin to cry as they take hold of the blanket and lift if off you. You feel a lightness you haven’t felt in a very long time. You are able to get off the table and walk toward the light that fills the room. You are free.
As you stumble out of the dark you realize the ache you’ve felt in your heart for so long isn’t as strong but it’s still there like a scar that never really goes away. Something prompts you to look up and you see it. The wet, heavy blanket that held you down for so long. And you know. You know it’s lingering there waiting. Waiting for the next time.