This is not what I wanted to do… talk about PTSD memories… but, not always do I have a say in what repressed memories come forward… I am receptive and my brain is taking full advantage, in its own way and time…
This memory is connected to the memory in Bonita, after dad came back from Vietnam… and it goes like this, and it will bounce to a memory that is connected with violence at that elementary school I attended for 1st grade, I think… So we are between 1st grade and 7th grade… and it all has to do with Bonita… and school in that backwards town…
You see, my aunt and uncle are only a couple of years older than me… you could say that we grew up together and my memories of that uncle and aunt go back as far as 5 years old… maybe younger…. and this is what has me wondering….
When Don (dad) walked through the door with Johnny, he headed straight for mom, by passed me and all the other kids and headed straight for mom… not a marriage like George and Barbara Bush, in fact a 360 from that marriage… but, always a but… they loved and hated each other and were afraid to be alone without each other…. yep a very sick relationship, built on violence….
As Don approaches the kitchen, mother has what we call now a days, a good old fashion “Panic Attack”…. if it had been a breakdown, she would have been hospitalized, back then, women who did what she did, got committed all the time… remember… we are talking the good old 60’s in America….
I see what is going down and get on my bicycle and head for uncle Dan’s farm and stop in and see a teacher I had in 1st grade… when I knocked on her door and told her my name and started to tell her what grade, she turned white as a ghost and couldn’t get me off her front porch fast enough…. so uncle Dan’s I went…
The two memories are connected…. I speculated that I was born left-handed and that back in the good old deep south, superstition ruled, in fact it still does, they believe in gods… but, always that but… people who were left handed were considered possessed and they did horrible things to children to break them of that habit and force them to use the right hand….
Now you get where I am going… my left side, always my left side of my body… the one side that let me know after major surgery this year and being down for 6 months straight, and I mean I could not pick up anything heavier than a loaf of bread… When the surgeon released me, that was when I found out how weak I am on the left side… something I just learned to live with… now I question… when did I have to learn to live with a weak left side of my body and when did I have a stroke as a child????
Always more questions than answers… Is that possible, anything is possible… I also know that the neuropathy could be the culprit too and until I remember everything…
I am just speculating on memories that for some reason, keep bugging me… that is PTSD in a nutshell… until you solve the riddle… the joker will torment your sleep….
TimesUp #MeToo WhyIDidntTell
Auntie an uncle went to same school… again, no one talks??? Uh same time I went there…..Boo….