I had to make the picture smaller, as seeing it in full size might be triggering for many of us. This post is about monsters.
Silverfish: My loyal follower
When I went into my new bathroom this morning, I saw them. Not just one, as before, but actually two. The one was fatter than the other, but together they appeared even scarier. Since I live by myself, there is no one to chase the monsters away, so that I can say “Can`t you please get rid of them since I can`t kill animals?”. Normally I would let them creep and crawl no matter how fat they got, but this shocked me so much that I clenched my teeth together, got some paper, and bent down to kill them. I felt sick in my stomach afterwards, and had some flashback-episodes, as this is the first time I`ve intentionally harmed an animal in too many years to count. In other words: For a hypersensitive, let`s save the world-lady, this was pretty traumatic. I got a little calmer after a while, but I still feel bad about it. But I know I must, since I`ve lived with them for three years now (they must have followed me from the last apartment, or I just had bad luck) and I don`t feel very comfortable around them.
This event made me think of monsters, and how we try to catch them. The silverfish are so slippery that I had to try two times before I got them. They love darkness and lurk into a crack as soon as sounds or light enters the room. Since my brain has filed them into the drawer of disgust, I get some stereotypical reactions when I see them. It feels like they crawl on me, or like they can attack me. Poor little things. Done no wrong, other than to try to survive. What I noticed today, was that I had more clothes than usual on the bathroom floor. A little after the episode, a lightbulb said “AHA” before it popped: Off course: Another reason to be messy! How can I find the silverfish if it`s so clean that there is nowhere to hide but where I can`t find them? With some clothes and things, they are much more likely to come out, both to cure my phobia, and to get flushed into the toilet if I fail. I immediately thought this might be a funny story to illustrate a point I`ve thought about a lot the past months, to some of my clients. Why all these bad feelings? What about all the trauma? So many escape, push the scraps of memories to the back of the drawer so they keep their fragmentation alive. Off course, they are ugly, and terrible, and there are real monsters, but they are even more terrible when you don`t know how many they a re, or how they actually look. I feel safer when I can see the silverfish, even if I must suppress a shudder. If I knew they could crawl up anywhere, unnoticed, like many scary memories does, I would look the memories straight in the eyes, because it`s no fair fight if your opponent hides.