February 21, 1960, my grand entrance. I remember my birth. True.
I was breach. I recall my mother having an extremely difficult time delivering me and so she was anesthetized. I did not respond to the typical post-natal stimulation and apparently was perceived as a still-birth? I vividly recall being placed on a cot and let out my first cry--probably for help.
Swept off to the neo-natal ward, I was unable to bond with my mother--that life-giving and life-sustaining bond would never occur for me. There was an instant split in my psyche. Survival kicked in at that very moment, and I remember it as if it was yesterday. This continued throughout my life. More later...
My next memory is that of jumping on the red couch on Seeley Street. I was three-years-old. I loved jumping on that couch! It was a way for me to draw my attention to somewhere other than the chaos, that was constant, in my home. It was a way for me to transcend the noise...bounce, bounce, bounce. My house was always loud. Screaming, yelling, fighting; there were too many of us. Nine people living on the first floor of a frame, converted store-front, two-flat house. The yelling, turned screaming, became my normal and I split from the crescendo.
I often shut the door dividing the kitchen (where the adults congregated) and the dining room/living room combo. "Please, please, be quite!" That door would provide a respite from the auditory violation to my sensitive nature on many levels. I also "shut the door" on my emotions, my thoughts, my feelings, my perspectives. Complete shut-down! "Stop being so emotional!" "You're too damn sensitive!" I heard: "Stop being...ANYTHING!" And so I did, because I was a good girl, and I really was. I turned to a life of self-deprecation, self-loathing, and self-destruction. All in the hope of getting a shred of approval from 5 siblings (all older than me), which had each become a parental figure. But...I didn't know it.
It has taken me 54 years to resurrect and embrace my sensitivities. But, I monitor their extremes. I see them for what they are (and sometimes they are instincts run a muck). Regardless, they are my nature, my essence. I am free when I embrace me! And I am free of looking outside of myself for approval--I'm just fine! I never learned to modulate my emotions. I had no role model(s) to emulate, or that would demonstrate and acknowledge that "feelings" are/were okay.Today my feelings/emotions/instincts, offer me a vantage point that I believe few acknowledge in themselves. I have a "knowing" about people, places, things, situations. And they all kicked the very moment I landed on that cot at St. Anthony's hospital on February 21, 1960 at 10:33 am.
My life journey has not always been easy, but today I focus on the blessings. I have to! The difficulties have brought me joy, they have made me stronger, they have made me more compassionate--once I got through them. Today,
I protect my precious emotional space with a choice of when to open my inner door and I choose when I want to let in the noise.
I have been sober for 2 years now. Twenty years in therapy did not provide the catapult of spiritual and emotional growth that I have experienced these last 2 years in A.A. For now, just for today, I am no longer breach and too sensitive. I am actually pretty phenomenal!. Because I have seen the boogie man--many times. And I have been blessed that I have.
