The Aquarium

None shall sleep! None shall sleep! Even you, O Princess,
in your cold bedroom,
watch the stars
that tremble with love and with hope!
But my secret is hidden within me;
none will know my name!
No, no! On your mouth I will say it when the light shines!
And my kiss will dissolve the silence
that makes you mine!
No one will know his name,
and we will have to, alas, die, die!
Vanish, o night! Set, stars!
Set, stars! At dawn, I will win! I will win! I will win!

The spring evening settles around us as we keen, sailboats shifting and clattering, restless in our berths. We are trapped souls, our barren masts scratching skywards, pulsing, almost vibrating against the indignity of our nakedness. Waiting for the disguise of darkness to camoflogue our wounds. When the wind settles, if she settles tonight, we can rest in the seductive whisper of water, caressing us towards a dream.

We are still alive.  We are the clinical trials which never took place, finely aged and toned veterans of the Decade of the Brain, the bravest of the Big Pharma Guinea Pigs. Prozac GenOne Survivors. You find us on discussion board threads like Crazyboards, Out of the Fog,  or PsychCentral.  Shape-shifting, starboard wingmen, over sensitive to the tide, we have all, most of us, lost count of the months, the years even, we survived as anchor-outs.

If you look closely, if I look closely, beyond the casted film, amidst the flicker of flowers, hovering in a shadowed corner where light may yet still fall, I am there still. I am waiting still. Hopeful still,  not only to reconnect with those vital parts of me, the parts I truly loved, the parts which have been lost to me for too long, but also to discover that the work I  have done in the interim, the endless struggle towards personal, interpersonal and spiritual growth will be reflected in the glow of a new, a better self, a faith in a self I have tended with  utmost care and respect. 

If you look closely, if I look closely, beyond the crusted film, within the flickers of flowers, hovering in a shadowed corner where light may yet still fall, I am there still. Waiting still. Hopeful still. To reconnect with those vital parts of me, the parts I truly loved, the parts which have been lost to me for too long. – To discover that the work I have done in the interim – the endless struggle towards personal, interpersonal and spiritual growth – will be reflected in the glow of a transcendent self, a self I have faithfully tended … for twenty years. Not knowing if she is still there.

The energy healer comes aboard at dawn, a dancing lizard didgeridoo draped over his shoulder. He is framed in fluid yellow, reminiscent of a sunrise just beyond my grasp. He rubs the Awakening Bell to summon me up from a drugged sleep and settle me back into Theta consciousness.   I float on a narrow bed vibrant with colors, cleansed by tingshas and Tibetan singing chakra bowls.

He strikes the Hu Yin ‘Tiger’ Gong. A signal. He waits.

“Where are you?” he asks.

I have traveled so far. His voice so far away. I wince for words. Resistant. So distant.

“Where are you?”

Centuries pass.  Cymbals, bells, the didgeridoo accompany me as I travel. He places two cool crystals on the tops of my feet.

And so I tell him.

 

 


I was in a huge aquarium. There was no where to hide from all the people looking in and I could not look out but I knew they were out there and that I was the sole focus of their attention. They were glued to glass, to the spectacle of observing my terror. They could see all my flaws, my vulnerabilities. I was powerless. Trapped. Until from somewhere deep inside me, from a place I had never touched before, I gathered all the energy I never knew I had and burst through the glass.

I am in a huge aquarium. There is no where to hide. Scores of people are  looking in and I cannot see out but I knew they are out there and that I am the sole focus of their attention. They are glued to glass, to the spectacle of observing my terror. They can see all my flaws, my vulnerabilities. I am powerless. Trapped. Until from somewhere deep inside me, from a place I have never touched before, a place I never knew existed, I gather all the energy I never knew I had and burst through the glass.


I am tossed and turned, violently catapulted within the water as it surges into the room, bursting through the walls of the building, barreling through city streets, merging with the ocean.  For a moment, I find myself on shore, beached alongside Richard Parker, but before I can even experience awe, before I can even rise on my arm, I am gently  sucked back into a sea tunnel.  

 

Breathless, loosing consciousness, I awake, trambolined out, reborn, buoyant in the body of an angel fish.   I flick and swish through the water through strobes of brilliant light — passing under the flipper of a Hawksbill turtle, alongside anglers and batfish, a frilled shark, white anemone and sea stars. I twist and slide around rocks wrapped in Zostera marina seagrass, reveling as it teases the transparency of my gills.  

In a flash around a bend I am swallowed into the sanctity of a family, seamlessly swept into a school of angelfish. As if I were never alive before. We are magnificent. We dart and weave, dancing through the water, gathering speed,   We are our own illumination. We move so fast everything around us a blur … gaining momentum …

 

… we rise as one, a shimmering ribbon reeled upward or perhaps we are the reelers- we disappear indistinguishable from the stars.


 

This post is in response to all the comments and questions I have received on my initial post Effexor XR and Memory Loss.

Follow my journey, which began in 2012.

Latest Update:

My So Called Life – An update on the continuing battle with Effexor …

 

 

 

 

 

~ by boatsie on April 7, 2016.

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