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Memories - how I deal with them

Hi, this is a poetic text about how I deal with dark memories. Until today I am struggling with them. Often I just try don’t to remember at all. But in this text I try to describe how I would like to deal with them. Maybe someone can identify with it. Perhaps this text will help others deal with bad things that happened to them.

As so often before, I stand in this room again. On each of its four walls, there is a huge shelf full of all kinds of little boxes. Each box looks different. Some are colorful and decorated with many different patterns and sometimes even real situations: you see children playing together and laughing together, you see flower meadows and other beautiful landscapes, a family being together and much more is depicted on the boxes.
Even before you open this kind of boxes, you look forward to the moment to look at, take out, touch and rejoice in the long known, yet always new joyful content. These are my favorite boxes.
But unfortunately there are others, not so colorfully decorated. They are often monochromatic, painted with rather dark colors. Those that have pictures of real situations often show sad and painful scenarios.
These boxes I do not like to open and when I do, I look at and touch their content rather with a certain discomfort and sadness.
Usually it doesn’t take long and I quickly close a box of this kind again, because I can’t bear the pain that fills me for long.

Lastly, there is a third type of box. These boxes are painted completely black and every time I open one of them, the shivers run down my spine and the tears down my cheeks. My hands shake when I take one of these boxes out off the shelf.
Each time it is a hard struggle to get myself to open a black box that I have taken off the shelf and not just put it back on the shelf.
However, I know very well that it is necessary. Because if I don’t open these boxes, they will always stand as black boxes in some corner of my shelf and hover over my life like a dark shadow.

When I do open them, however, something wonderful happens:
I take out the contents in pain and tears, look at it and touch it, and then I get up and take it to my friend. And every time I come back to him with such a box, he looks at me with compassion, takes it from me and comforts me. *With him I can cry as long as I want. I can tell him how much a box has hurt me, or how sorry I am for a box. I don’t have to be afraid of being rejected or rebuked by him, because he always has time for me, is never annoyed, but always kind and compassionate.
Even when I come with a box several times, he does not send me away, but listens to me anew and comforts me.

But the most beautiful thing is that when he returns a box to me, it is no longer black. He never returns black boxes to me, but always brighter ones. Sometimes he even turns a black box into a colorful one.

The boxes in this text are my memories. The friend I mention is God.
God bless everyone who reads this.


Thank you for sharing this. You are an amazing writer and know how to paint a picture through your words. You should start a journal or a book with short writings like this one.


Hello HT26,

Well, I must say, that poem moved me to tearing. The dark black boxes I can relate to and the way you describe, in order, the happy boxes to the dark boxes symbolizes, to me, the dive we take to return to those memories that hurt us so deeply, and the transition from the surface to the depths. The part about your friend, I have experienced this kind of thing before, and I have known that compassionate presence that is outside of me but in me. I have had many conversations with this friend. I am so thrilled to hear your connection is strong and fruitful. Thank you for this beautiful post and this beautiful share, Warmly, Dot.


hi @HT26 ,

this is a beautiful post! you have true talent in crafting such a vivid image in your words with incredible visual storytelling skills. the symbolism is also beautiful and i’m so happy that religion can be there for you to ease any traumas that those black boxes contain. i truly related to this and am very thankful for my support system i’ve found in my friends and family to be my shoulder to lean on when those black boxes catch my eye.

thank you for sharing your story and experiences with dark memories, my friend. sending all my love to you and hoping your week ahead is fantastic!



I really enjoyed the alliteration.

I know for me the somber moments, the fearful, the anxious, the sad, all pain and all distress I’ve had in the past and in the future shape me.

Creating a picture with contrasts and substance, preparing me for the beauty, love and joy in my life. To share in this wonder and love with others. To teach, to learn, to observe and to take part.

<3 with gratitude/ Mish


I would like to start by thanking you for the way you have written so beautifully.
I found it very moving indeed, the detail regarding trauma and how sharing that with your god has helped you is fascinating to me and I am very grateful that you felt you could share that.
I am so pleased that you have found that help in your life and it continues to carry you through,
Once again thank you for sharing those amazing words


Thank you all very much for your kind replys. It encourages me enormously and touched my heart. I was not sure if anyone can relate to this story. It contains one of my deepest struggles. I am so pleased that others who have the same struggles can identify with it. You are such a great community many thanks.

This short story is not the only one I have written. Whenever I need to process something, I start to put it into pictures. That’s the only way I can express my feelings. Maybe I will publish more of these stories here.

Thank you to each and every one of you who took the time to respond and encourage me. I hope that you all find a way to deal with your dark and painful memories.

Many thanks and love to you all.