I’ve been having flashbacks of my childhood over the last few weeks. Memory’s I’ve repressed, come pouring in great detail when I have a quiet moment to myself.   I don’t like it one bit.  It’s like reliving it all over again but in a few minutes. Leaves me feeling raw, exposed, empty, and alone.

Makes me wonder  why no one stood up to help me.  Why wasn’t I worth saving? I see the pity in the adults eyes as they look at me, while they shield their children from me.  As if being around me will cause them to be abused.  I suppose if they look the other way and pretend it’s not happening, then for them, it wasn’t.  For me it was very real and it was happening.
I can’t help and think about how my life would have turned out if I had been rescued, if someone had cared to show me some compassion.

I’ve been trying to keep my mind busy.  I’ve got two of my grand-kids so that helps.  I have therapy this afternoon, I’m hoping she can give me some pointers on handling the incoming memories.  Right now they are wrecking havoc on my body.   I’m not sleeping well. An hour or two here and there.   I’m afraid of what my dreams will bring.  *sighs*  I realize my brain is releasing what I’m ready to process. Doesn’t mean it’s not scary for me.
I went through most of my adult life say yeah my childhood was bad but was blank on the details.  I had a stroke at 39 , lost a lot of good memories to make room for all this crap that I need to work through.  It’s changed me as a person. I’m not who I was 7 yrs ago.  While I’m much more vulnerable I’m stronger because of it.

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Until next time ;

“You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.” — Christopher Robin, Winnie the Pooh

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