From the author: About the inner mental reality of a patient who has suffered trauma, living through difficult life circumstances, loss, grief, violence, death. SURVIVORS OF A SHIPWRACK AND KEEPING HOPE “Our EGOs are barely visible spots on the surface of the vast sea, our personal biographies are lost among the wreckage left after the wrecks of the ships of history. Feeling its own fragility in the midst of this mare nostrum, the EGO tries to inflate its own importance and convinces itself: I know who I am; I am in charge here; I know what I know, and my knowledge is enough to make decisions. Often, after this kind of inflation, the time comes for a sober rethink, and we ask ourselves: what was I thinking? We just understand that, in addition to our will, many other factors influence this or that event. These moments of insight require humility and even self-abasement, but they give us confidence in the existence of something invisible, standing beyond the boundaries of the visible world." James Hollis. "Ghosts are all around us." Looking at the painting John William Waterhouse: Miranda - The Tempest (1916), I observe the internal drama of a shipwreck. My gaze keeps in focus the figure of a girl, fascinated and mutely looking at what is leaving irrevocably, what is drowning in a sea of ​​feelings and what is no longer destined to come true and be afloat. I think about the collapse of certain hopes, plans, expectations that once, like a strong powerful ship, were built by our only recognized and categorical EGO-consciousness, too authoritative for doubt. And how that which remained unheard and ignored by the EGO - our feelings, sensations, intuition, which endow us with no less important ways of living in the world and guidance on the way, ended up under the wreckage of our personal Titanic. It so happened that in my analytical practice there are those who survived the powerful impact of shock trauma akin to a shipwreck. This shock deprives you of your voice, knocks the ground out from under your feet, freezes your senses and makes further travel across a sea flooded with underwater icebergs irresistible. And I often ask myself and my patients, what could give voice to what could save this ship? These are not quick, not simple answers... no... This silence is mournful, sorrowful, hopeless... There can be no other way. As a witness to the internal drama, I observe the silence of my patients, because too many feelings have been thrown into the abyss of the unconscious along with the flying wreckage of the ship. These unexpressed, silent feelings drown the opportunity to emerge - to realize, to survive. Initially, the swimming stories of my patients often included routes to cold and lonely lands, where they had to survive alongside those who themselves found it difficult to swim, see and know for many reasons. And then a powerful ship was built for a safe long voyage. The turbulent waters of the elements seethed behind the stern until something happened - whether the compass went astray or the cabin boy fell asleep on the tower, in the night sea there was a collision with underwater reefs... But in any case, the conscious link that had previously fallen out of the psyche was called upon to control and protect the security and safety of internal borders. And the elements swallowed up the ship. Observing the remains of a once powerful ship floating ashore, I carefully collect them piece by piece and restore bit by bit the history of the voyage. I grieve with the survivors of an incredible vortex of time and trials. I am filled with warmth for them and hope that over time, when the sea calms down, you can carefully, step by step, descend into the sea, feel the gentle coolness of the water, touch the warm ripples of the sun with your palm, recognize the descent to the water with your feet, recognize the sandy or rocky shore, slowly dive in and observe how this experience responds within. This is a sensual, tactile emotional experience that over time can become inner knowledge, intuition, allowing you to swim far and deep. This takes time and a lot of it. But this is no longer.