Fanatic’s Mummy

20131021-200531.jpg She wrapped me up like a mummy and put me in the closet. I was a thing of the past. She unable to face the future. Together but separately we were lost in a state of limbo. The present moment elusive.  I reach for the moment and touch it at best. Never reveling in it. From behind the closet door silent tears would fall.
It’s not a dream. When I think back about my teenage years this is the feeling that is evoked. When I think african-ibexback there are so many things I wish I had done differently.  But as a kid how could I have known. I needed help early on.  I needed emotional support and may parents didn’t have that in their box of tools. Honestly, not sure they had any tools other than negativity and criticism. Certainly no measure of unconditional love in our household. afghan-church-mumbai-ajaytaoThings were very much contingent on how good you were.  If you were bad you were sent to your room to remain feeling bad. There was no recovery. There was no one coming up those stairs to say it’s okay we still love you. If I failed I was truly a failure.
She wrapped me up so SHE didn’t have to feel. Didn’t have to remember her own past and pain. She couldn’t seem to embrace me and mine. I often sat alone in my room secretly crying. I would craft painful poems only to share them w no one. I needed help.
I was never taught how or that it was okay to need/ask for help. I searched for adults outside my home for comfort esp men. I see now I was looking china20holding20hands20for20portfolio1for a daddy figure and role model. I found my science teacher filled this role.  Since I was wrapped up I could not speak. I had to write him notes…literally. He was gracious and read every one. It was the only way I could communicate.
For when I tried to communicate to her my teenage fears, worries and place in this world I was shut down. Might as well sit in the closet and write poems.
a-grilled-door-ajaytaoTo this day I keep so much inside. A a result i spiraled into bulimia then alcoholism. These agents numbed me and the feelings I didn’t know how to contend with. Didn’t learn how to cope with and that I was okay.
Finally when I conquered these 2 issues it became evident I had mental health issues.  It’s been a long road. I know others have a longer and more arduous road. May we take it together and perhaps provide the support that was missing long ago.



3 thoughts on “Fanatic’s Mummy

  1. “…there are so many things I wish I had done differently.”

    I suppose we all have felt this way from time to time. I do much differently now: sensitive to needs of others, never be source of someone’s misfortune, never pass up a chance to perform a charitable deed. I had to endure or enjoy, succeed or fail all the things in life to get to this point. At 65 I feel at least I’ve got it right near the end of my days.

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