“Okay, let’s get this thing started. First of all, I’ve never done anything like this before so if it doesn’t work I won’t be surprise. Now, how do you want me to start? Talking to nothing, fresh air, to ghosts, it’s not something I do every day of the week (nervous laugh).”
“Well, start at the beginning I guess. Or wherever you want to. This is your time, you do as you feel is right. I’m here to guide you and bring you back if I need to, nothing more. The rest is up to you. Go as deep as you feel comfortable with.”
“That’s the problem I don’t know what is right, if any of it is right. She’s been haunting me my whole life but maybe I just have an overactive imagination. Or it’s just wishful thinking. Or maybe some things are best left alone. It’s so…..”
“Don’t worry. Perhaps if I give you a question to ask and you can go from there?”
“Okay. I’ll try. Fire away.”
“What would she be saying to you if you could be her confidante? Would she say anything at all?”
“I guess she would ask me ‘Why’? Why didn’t anyone protect her? Why didn’t anyone rescue her? Why was she alone for so long?”
“Okay. And what would you say in return?”
“I would tell her that the others, those who hurt her were sick people. Those who stood by to watch and do nothing were sick people, weak people. And…(sigh), she was never alone but she was, and always will be alone. It’s complicated. How can I tell a four, five, six year old that? This isn’t working. I can’t get through like that. It feels daft talking to an illusion”
“Really? I think it’s working fine. You have set up a dialogue even if you’re not speaking to her directly. Now you have to talk. Talking will help you both to see each other’s point of view.
So, you’ve told her that the people she loved and trusted were not to be loved and trusted. What is her response?”
“I dunno. I guess she’s sad and frightened. Yeah, she’s scared.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I can feel it.”
“But she’s not real…is she?”
“Yes, she is. She’s as real as I am… Or is she? Oh! I’m not sure any more. This all feels kinda stupid.”
“Okay, so why don’t you ask her another question?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. The first thing you think of.”
“Hmmm. Shall I shut my eyes?”
“If you want to.”
“Okay. Yes, I can focus better. Now. Question. What shall I ask? I got it. Do you still cry?
(silence as tears roll down my face)
She’s very sad. Very lonely. Very frightened. Very hurt. I can help her.”
“How?”
“I can be strong for her. I can show her that strong minds can and do survive. I can show that she is stronger than she thinks, and she’s proven that by making it through to me”
“Tell her.”
(more silence)
“She says she loves me. I told her that I love her too and I won’t ever let her down. I’m stronger than that. She’s smiling, still tears but there’s a smile. She’s pretty when she smiles.”
“You can see her?”
“Yes, I can now. A pretty child’s face with blonde hair and green eyes filled with tears, but I know she can hope now. She has me. I can pull her through to now”
“Good. Carry on.”
(almost whispering)
“Come with me. Come here and let me hold you tight. I promise I’ll never let you go. You deserve so much better and you will have that. I can promise you that. Now I have found you I can protect you.
How do I know? Because my child, my lovely little girl…. I AM YOU.”