Not long ago, or maybe kind of long ago — let’s say between 6 and 12 weeks ago — I was talking to my therapist on Zoom about the issues I was having going outside.
“I know it’s safe. I know it’s OK, ish, now. I just don’t really want to,” I said.
“What else can you tell me about this feeling?” my therapist said.
“Well, I’m not scared, or anything. I’m not afraid of crowds, or people. It’s more just, why bother? What’s out there? I don’t really need to, and I don’t want to…But I know I shouldn’t just stay inside here, either.”
“Mmmhmmm.”
“I mean, I kinda want to, I guess. It’s more like, I feel stuck. Trapped. Like, emotionally, I would like to leave, but physically, I can’t. It’s like…how ghosts are stuck in the same place. They don’t even know why. They are just stuck there, in that house or room or whatever, and confused about why they can’t leave and why no one sees them. Yes. I feel like I’m a ghost haunting this fucking apartment,” I said.
“That’s a strong image,” my therapist said, probably because by this point I was crying a little bit. “Where do you think that came from?”
“I don’t know!” I said, through tears. “I don’t really know a lot about ghosts. Maybe video games?” (I did spend a lot of the pandemic playing video games.)
One of the things I like about my therapist is that she too enjoys elaborately epic, fantasy-driven, supernaturally-inflected RPGS designed for electronic/video consumption. Dragons, castles, spirits, like that. So we talked about video games for a little bit. She asked me what I knew about ghosts. I said they were unhappy because they died violently, or suddenly, or with unfinished business. That they were searching for somebody, or something. That they had a message to deliver. That they often don’t know they are dead, and are looking for the things they used to enjoy or need when they were alive. That they are tied to a place because because something bad happened in that place, or because they’re supposed to protect something there. That they want attention, and that, even if they are violent, they often just want to be put to rest. To be released.
“What do you think it would take to release you?” my therapist asked.
“I don’t know,” I said, crying.
I still don’t know! Even though I do more stuff outside now, I still feel like a ghost, haunting what’s left of my old life.
Happy Halloween!!
love, Ruth