Metaphor Monday

Metaphor Monday | Memories

You know those makeup kits they sell around Halloween? Usually it’s a “pirate” kit, although sometimes the costume in question is a little more…questionable. The kits come with a plastic container of black substance that I imagine is the approximate consistency and flavor of Play-Doh, designed to go over selected teeth. The idea is to represent a lost tooth, a gap in the dental line. It’s not.

Traumatic memory loss is like this black tooth cap, for me. I can’t remember what I ate for lunch on the third Tuesday of last month. That lack of memory is a hole, an actual gap like a lost little baby tooth in a row of tiny chompers.

There are other memories. I don’t know details, whens or whats or wheres or hows. I don’t even bother asking myself the whys anymore. These memories are capped, glossed over in black, a solid substance pretending to be a gap.

One of the many shrinks I’ve seen over the years recommended to me, once, to not try and peel back the blackness. She said that repressed memories need to stay that way until they’re ready to be exposed.

I don’t like the waiting, don’t like the feeling that I’ll choke on a lost chunk of black Play-Doh on a perfectly normal day. Still… I sit on my hands, and resist the urge to peel. I don’t know when the darkness will lift, when I’ll have to look at all the decay and destruction underneath. I just pull what pieces I can feel together, and try to be prepared for when it does. ❀

Metaphor Monday

Metaphor Monday | Hell is a Labyrinth

The difference between a labyrinth and a maze is that a labyrinth consists of one path. There are no wrong turns. No dead ends. Just a long, winding path that feels never-ending. It twists and turns and takes you deeper into a darkness that you didn’t know existed, didn’t know you were in until it was too late and you couldn’t turn back.

When you’re in a maze you can get lost, take the same path in the wrong direction, or  spend an eternity wandering lost in circles. When you’re in a labyrinth you have a lot of quiet time to think to yourself.

(Sometimes I don’t like the quiet, don’t like to think to myself… but that’s another post for another day.)

Hell is a labyrinth, because when you’re here you know exactly where you are and exactly where you’re going, only you don’t know how long it will take you to get there and what kind of monster will be there when you do.

Some people die in their labyrinths, never making it to the demons that live at the core of it. Some people lose that fight. And for everyone else? The trek back out of the labyrinth isn’t any easier. It’s still a long winding path full of random turns and no clear end in sight. You’re tired, and dirty, and hot, and probably covered in monster blood. You’re still alone with your thoughts.

But you have to keep going.