Only God knows there whereabouts, but once I had an older brother ... older by 5 years ... by the name of Charles. I also had an older sister ... older by 2 1/2 years by the name of Rebecca. I was the last to arrive ... the last of the siblings. I know that I was what is called a 'breech' baby ... feet first ...so the natural process of bonding between my Mother and I escaped us in unusal patterns and cycles. I was concieved ... pre-meditated ... to fill a position ... a career actually ... as a caretaker ... an adhesive really ...to hold our nuclear family together ... after every nuclear blast. I was meant to weigh my Father down ... to prevent or delay his eventual departure ... his eventual flight-by-night. Quite early on, there was a tremendous and impossible ... an objectified pressure ...to suceed; I tried repeatedly ... but the plan failed to ignite the fantasy ... the illusion ... but the unlimited supply of contempt, conspiracy and resentment would challenge my best efforts. The frustrated contempt surfaced daily amongst their shifting alliances ... resentments that found grave consequences and inappropriate unto me ... painful in their administration ... painful in theier execution. Said abuses from all fronts now known to mankind ... abuses that can ... abuses that were ... suppressed so adequately and deeply inside of my psyche ... that most recently an emotional tsunami has washed over me ... washed me clean ... of the detailed events.
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder
Not only am I greiving for my inner-child ... I am also cleaning up all of the residue that I am able to clean ... of my family's actions and deeds. Always the caretaker, I am quite efficient at it ... I ejoy it ... there is much to caretake for and about me ... I can do both at the same time.
But due to the partial-assasination of brain's faculties ... (my brother and sister sat me down in front of a 'grassy knoll' ... in front of a teeter-totter ... lined me up into sope ... and with a great velocity ... squared me right in the center of my fore head. Blood ... disassociation ... adenaline ... out of body departure from the pain ... no tears or sobs ... flying above the scene, I had eye-contact with myself ... I never made it back into my body ... I did not want to ... the adenaline was charging my sensitivities and awareness ... my intuition ... I became the most hyper of my own hyper-vigilance ... regarding my personal safety. I was 3 1/2 years old. As a result of said injury, there was neurological damage that surfaced in my mind's functions and my social skills right away. I was never taken to the Doctor' for proper diagnosis, although my Father had immaculate benefits from his job; I became the family secret ... they were not capable ... not one of them ... capable of caretaking me. I was objectified and ridicued by my Father for my now being 'slow' ... to the point that my brother and sister found it either necessary to conform and join in on the fun ... to avoid being objectified themselves ... or because they actually found pleasure in it ... that they enjoyed it; this is only part of what they were taught. Over my 5 decades plus, I have continually had neurological and social problems ... at the basic survival skills and stability. I have always spent epic amounts of energies and my life force to hide my short-comings ... I have always blamed myself ... but now ... most recently ... along with medical revelations and deciphering the Post Traumatic Stress through 6 years of Dialectical Behavioral Therapy based on Marsh Linnehan's theories ... I can reclaim and make adjustments to accomodate the rest of my life ... better late than never. It is a slow process and I still sometimes demonize and transfer some of this stored anger when I feel that my safety is being threatened. I am working on these issues ... I am a work in progress.
Only God knows there whereabouts, but once I had an older brother ... older by 5 years ... by the name of Charles. I also had an older sister ... older by 2 1/2 years by the name of Rebecca. I was the last to arrive ... the last of the siblings. I know that I was what is called a 'breech' baby ... feet first ...so the natural process of bonding between my Mother and I escaped us in unusal patterns and cycles. I was concieved ... pre-meditated ... to fill a position ... a career actually ... as a caretaker ... an adhesive really ...to hold our nuclear family together ... after every nuclear blast. I was meant to weigh my Father down ... to prevent or delay his eventual departure ... his eventual flight-by-night. Quite early on, there was a tremendous and impossible ... an objectified pressure ...to suceed; I tried repeatedly ... but the plan failed to ignite the fantasy ... the illusion ... but the unlimited supply of contempt, conspiracy and resentment would challenge my best efforts. The frustrated contempt surfaced daily amongst their shifting alliances ... resentments that found grave consequences and inappropriate unto me ... painful in their administration ... painful in theier execution. Said abuses from all fronts now known to mankind ... abuses that can ... abuses that were ... suppressed so adequately and deeply inside of my psyche ... that most recently an emotional tsunami has washed over me ... washed me clean ... of the detailed events.
.JPG)
No comments:
Post a Comment