The first 8 years of my life had been burried for all my life. Today I am 35 years old & now that I eventually reach a state of mind where I feel confidend and secure about myself and who I am, the fog is slowly lifting and I begin to see pictures from my childhood. I'm amazed by the way my mind is working. I have been blaming my mother for everything I couldn't remember, before. Today, I start to realize that maybe she wasn't my problem. But I don't wanna play judge for those old days, I only wanna know.
The first picture I ever received came to me about 8 years ago. A friend of mine took a photograph of me using a flash while we were standing under a dark bridge. The moment this flash hit my eyes I got taken back to my childhood. I saw myself being a naked toddler or maybe a bit older than that. I was standing on a desk and a lamp like this was facing me.
![71NjFmwMr-L._SX342_.jpg](https://images.ecency.com/p/3jpR3paJ37V8t3d5gG8YxUrFtTrvhgCDjjN8jFs76K9ca8uuoMSpu48u1ht36b4sBvDKj5b9tLk1ULazG6k8xpCjYAMHMwxhdq2QvBPiiVtRxnLgyrNsuXdJKTQKAoJxNV8mc.png?format=match&mode=fit)
I broke down crying and shivering and felt abused by my friend. He didn't do anything else besides taking a picture but I never called him again after this incident. This is how my my mind recognzied that I wasn't ready for my own story. I obviously couldn't handle it and this is how it got hidden from me again. Until just recently.
Two weeks ago, I was sitting at my desk at college, working on my tasks while all the sudden a stream of tears started running down my face. There was no feeling attached to it. It was just tears and I wasn't sensing anything besides confusion about this occasion. I left the room and sat down at a quiet place to let it all out. There I was sitting, crying until someone saw me and asked if I was alright.
"I don't know."
I honestly answered.
"I am feeling fine, I guess. I don't understand why I am crying."
She looked at me, not knowing what to say and I waved it aside.
"Don't mind me. It's alright."
She thankfully fled the scene and I stopped crying. What, the hell, was that?, I wondered and started worrying about my daughter and send a message, asking if she was alright. If I was crying while everything seemed to be ok, it maybe my motherly intuition I wondered, that would make me sense feelings not belonging to myself. However, my daughter was perfectly fine and I was very wrong about those feelings not belonging to myself. I was asking the wrong child …
When I got home that day, I scanned my mind for thoughts that would make me sad and I concluded it would have to be feelings towards my Ex that made me cry. He left in September 2017 and since that day I had only fought for my existence, made some contracts to save my ass, started publishing on Steemit, had to apply for welfare, searching for a new appartment, started my new education … I had been working on so many other things that maybe I hadn't cried about losing my best friend enough. So I celebrated this feeling. I thought about my Ex, massaging physical blocks with my fascia roll, crying over him.
The next morning, at the station, it hit me again and I started crying out of the blue. The same feeling as the day before. No real pain attached to it, just an endless stream of tears. I decided I wasn't done and went back home. I stayed at home for two days, crying a lot. For I had no reason I just projected this sensuality on my Ex which kind of worked for me. At the same time it left some confusion. I felt like standing in a corridor of my own senses and I could see that some of the doors where shut. I felt being thrown out of my own mind. Why couldn't I get acces to those feelings? Why would thinking about my Ex while crying not fully grab this sensation the way it should?
Two days ago it happened again. I was with a friend from college, he suddenly hugged me twice while we were waiting at a traffic light and said he just had to. I thanked him and could sense it all coming back again. I couldn't wait to get home. I supressed the tears and felt like running on a thread automatically, being drawn to my home where I eventually burst out in tears as soon as I shut the door behind me. This moment was much more intense. I went to the bathroom where I could hear myself saying:
My throat hurts. I am having difficulties swallowing
and broke down to the floor where I could see picture of myself as a child, being on vacation with the church. I was standing in a medical room, with a nurse who gave me medicine I had to garble. I cried and cried. I couldn't see the abuse. I just saw being treated and I felt that someone had abused me. I started talking to this little child I could see in my mind. I told her to get on my lap so I could embrace her. I saw and felt my inner child sitting down on my lap. I hugged my arms around myself, around the little child in my mind and around my actual shoulders and dandled, saying:
I see you. I feel you. I hear you. I know, it's terrible but I am here to protect you. You deserve to be loved. I love you, sweet child, I do.
I meditated a lot and hypnotized myself this day. I got into a trance playing the piano and could hear myself commanding orders. I wasn't even aware of talking while I was suddenly saying:
Ask your mum about the clergymen. Ask your mum about the rich men. Ask her if she does even know about it. Ask if she wanna know.
So, I wrote some of the questions to her that came to my mind. Like, how old I was when I had been to the Wewelsburg (a castle in Germany. Well, not any castle. Let's just save that for a later time) and if she knows that I was sick and if someone picked me up from there or how this trip ended. And while I was at it, other questions popped into my mind that left me stunned.
Why did you send me to the north coast of Germany? Who was the man that picked me up and brought me there over night? How long was I staying there and why? There was another vacation. I think the whole family applied. It was organized by the church, I guess. Who organized it? Where were we?
However, I am not expecting lots of answers from my mother. I'll never forget the first time I told her that I couldn't remember my childhood. I was 15 years old and her answer was:
"If your mind doesn't wanna tell you, then it's just for your own protection."
For two days now I am actively trying to connect to those burried memories and I keep receiving more and more pictures. I see myself as a child in a group of adults entering a small door next to the castle or maybe to the castle. Maybe both. Because I clearly didn't like the castle and the house next to the castle. Seeing this house I cried out heavily, even saying out loud: "I don't like this house!" I saw myself wearing read sandals with butterflies on the fastener, feeling terribly alone, standing in the yard of the Wewelsburg, I saw myself in a strange shower room, in the backroom of a small church, I saw myself with an old rich couple giving me a doll. Seeing this scene, I cried out: "IT IS MY BIRTHDAY!" which I can't imagine being true. I don't think I have ever been with a couple of strangers on my birthday.
It's really tricky. It's such a wild mix of sensations, pictures & words that mainly leave me questioning. All those details like: Did I ever owned those red sandals with butterflies on it? Or is it flowers? Or just like a symbol for something else? Is this shower real or was that maybe a nightmare? I'm not even close to knowing by now. But every single question starts a quest and this time I won't shy away. I'm ready to figure out what has happened to me so that I can fully heal. And whatever it is that has happened to me, I start this jurney with the paradigm to forgive everybody who hurt me in the past. I'm ready to accept my own story and everyone who took part in it.