Although I had much counselling that was of great benefit, there was still much I needed to come to terms with, more questions I needed answering.
In 2003, due to my positive involvement in the Mental Health Community, one day as I walked into a meeting, I noticed this person who instantly stuck out from the crowd. I knew straight away that we were going to have many a conversation. This day was yet another special day on my road to self-discovery.
I was warmly greeted by this man that I instantly put my trust in. As the meeting progressed we sat next to each other, I was chatting away to him like I had known him forever. It was nearing the end of the meeting that I suddenly realised he was a Chaplin, and in talking to him I had revealed enough to him that my mind was troubled. We made arrangements to meet at his office, where I later discovered he gave counselling to many people.
Over several months I had the most incredible conversations with this Chaplin, who to me is the most articulate gifted knowledgeable human being I could ever wish to meet.
Slowly and gradually, we talked about many of my traumas in detail; he also tried various therapies with me to help calm my mind. One was for me to relax and count backwards; then he would ask me to imagine a place where I felt safe and to describe it. For me it was summer in the country, with lots of grass and trees, where there was no one around; somewhere where no one could harm me. It was my special place to relax when I felt down. This place of comfort is now always with me, my own secret garden. I can be there anytime I feel the need to.
If I can go back to some of my traumas now, the firework attacks; my those words are painful. I have extremely vivid memories of the attacks and immediately after, then nothing, this has always disturbed me. I needed to know just what happened to me. Was I taken to Hospital? Did someone comfort me? Did my mother? This is the crucial bit, as I have no memory ever of being comforted by anyone. This is why to this day, I cry out to be held and comforted. This, the little Paul was crying out, “Why did no one comfort me?”
Then this amazing Chaplin explained what should be obvious to anyone, except me. Due to the ferocity of my attacks, the incredible shock of them and excruciating pain it was highly likely that I fainted or fell unconscious. So due to the trauma, my mind is still blocking out the immense pain I must have endured. All those lonely years I endured thinking no one cared enough to comfort me. It all makes so much sense to me now; it was just my mind blocking it all out. Maybe this is the mind’s way of protecting itself when the pain is too great to remember? This understanding has been of great comfort to me and offered me hope for a better future.
But first, the grown up Paul must see his medical records to fully understand, and to let little Paul rest in peace.
With the utmost gratitude to the Chaplin: from both Pauls.
©Paul Davidson 2008