| Biographical Non-Fiction posted November 13, 2023 | Chapters: |
...59 60 -61- 62... 
|
  |
Or not? Age 16
A chapter in the book Ghost
Haven
by Lea Tonin1
One pull...one small tug
One move...one tangled shift.
Hem of my soul...drifts
***Lea Tonin***
***********************************
I cannot remember the last time if any, that I felt so light. I think it's the gift of being able to put it out there.
People listen and understand and some people know how it feels to release such a heavy burden.
Most good feelings will seem foreign to me as if I'm not allowed to allow myself that gift.
All the old programming comes up. I don't deserve it, I am nothing, I am worthless.
That was the mantra of our home and after years of that I becamed conditioned.
I know it's old conditioning when the thought crosses my mind that I don't deserve anything.
That's the old talk, that's the old voice in my head repeating what he said. We have picked up on certain ways of thinking and doing along the way from my parents. About how we should think and be, obviously very wrong...we now overcome by changing our thoughts but, the damage remained.
For instance, my younger sister, who was saved by her father, suffered from agoraphobia. Sometimes pills and a gambling addiction was present. Its been years now. She seems to happy and her life is going well. I'm very happy for her. Naturally, she still has very strong feelings about our stepfather and what he did. In the short time she was with us sometimes and when she visited he damaged her.
My middle sister has a hard relationship with food because she feels like once she sees food, she has to eat it right away for fear it will disappear. If it disappeared, she'd have nothing. She also has serious control issues and prefers to be in charge in order to feel comfortable. Her growing up was so out of control she now needs control. She has, on occasion, displayed traits of my stepfather. Learned behavior I'm sure although she too seems to have made some turn around in her life for which I am equally happy.
Although highly involved in a later incident, which I will explain at a future date she remains, for the most part, a decent person.
As for myself. I suffer from a severe chemical depression as well as an emotional one. Trust is difficult. I seem to pick the wrong people and I do so by listening to their stories and I think that they need help or a leg up so I do and without fail, I get burned.
So none of us came out unscathed, we had and have our things we need to work on. The point is to keep our minds open to ideas different than our own. This is how we expand.
This is how we invent, how we exchange information. To understand the dynamics of human behavior and relationships with clarity. Understanding of some of the why without condoning the behavior.
So now I'm light enough that if I flap my hands, I might fly up in the sky...
That's enough yacking....let's look in on her....
*****************************
I sit in a little hut, a fort, a small space my sister and I put up together. A little escape pod if you will. I listened to the loud silence crash all around me enveloping the great and huge relief within me.
I'm pouring shudders out in gratitude that I do not have to go back there.
I am my own woman now and no one will ever lift their hand to me again. God help them if they do!
I gobbled up two buns with jam and drank half the water in my thermos.
"Now it's time to get out of here. I thought. "I'll bolt through the woods to the bus stop on the other side." A street my parents don't normally drive.
First things first. I can't go to my friends house looking like this. I brushed my teeth without paste then pulled the brush out of my pocket.
This was going to hurt.
I poured some water out of my thermos and carefully started to go through my hair. It was a job getting the pine needles, dirt leaves, and other debris out of my hair. When I got to the back of my head, there was more than just debris. There was a dried blood clump within my hair. I poured a little bit of water on the back of my scalp which again stung but, not as bad as the first time. I held my hand over the injured area of my scalp and began to slowly brush the debris out of my hair.
It was excruciating. I took the small part of my hair surrounding the wound. Flushed the hair clump as best I could with the little water I had left.
I brushed it gently again and then took hair from the top of my head and combed it back as well. I didn't know how it looked but hopefully, much better than it was. Almost good enough to be seen.
No time like the present. I walked through the brush to the main path and began jogging along it toward the other side.
Mother would send me through here sometimes at night to go buy her cigarettes.
I'd say, "it's dark out."
She'd say, "Well, you'd better run then."
There are words I could use...grrr.
I slowed my jog to a walk because it was making my head thump. It was morning so I had time. Besides my mother wouldn't put one foot in these woods. I've yet to see my stepfather move from his chair. Except when it was time to cause pain.
I smelled the clean scent of pine and cedar drifting in the air. Squirrels were bopping about and a myriad of birds were flying from tree to tree and I thought,
"How wonderful to be so free...now I am too."
I just hope my friend will have me or know where I could go. I approached the bus stop, sat down on the bench to wait. I was a little nervous and a bit concerned but, it was night and day compared to where I came from.
A thought occurred to me again...I am free...no one can have me now.
*****************************
I remember the feeling that day sitting on the bench waiting for the bus.
I feel like I'm breaking out like a Phoenix.
I guess though, I'd make a funny looking bird.....
One pull...one small tug
One move...one tangled shift.
Hem of my soul...drifts
***Lea Tonin***
***********************************
I cannot remember the last time if any, that I felt so light. I think it's the gift of being able to put it out there.
People listen and understand and some people know how it feels to release such a heavy burden.
Most good feelings will seem foreign to me as if I'm not allowed to allow myself that gift.
All the old programming comes up. I don't deserve it, I am nothing, I am worthless.
That was the mantra of our home and after years of that I becamed conditioned.
I know it's old conditioning when the thought crosses my mind that I don't deserve anything.
That's the old talk, that's the old voice in my head repeating what he said. We have picked up on certain ways of thinking and doing along the way from my parents. About how we should think and be, obviously very wrong...we now overcome by changing our thoughts but, the damage remained.
For instance, my younger sister, who was saved by her father, suffered from agoraphobia. Sometimes pills and a gambling addiction was present. Its been years now. She seems to happy and her life is going well. I'm very happy for her. Naturally, she still has very strong feelings about our stepfather and what he did. In the short time she was with us sometimes and when she visited he damaged her.
My middle sister has a hard relationship with food because she feels like once she sees food, she has to eat it right away for fear it will disappear. If it disappeared, she'd have nothing. She also has serious control issues and prefers to be in charge in order to feel comfortable. Her growing up was so out of control she now needs control. She has, on occasion, displayed traits of my stepfather. Learned behavior I'm sure although she too seems to have made some turn around in her life for which I am equally happy.
Although highly involved in a later incident, which I will explain at a future date she remains, for the most part, a decent person.
As for myself. I suffer from a severe chemical depression as well as an emotional one. Trust is difficult. I seem to pick the wrong people and I do so by listening to their stories and I think that they need help or a leg up so I do and without fail, I get burned.
So none of us came out unscathed, we had and have our things we need to work on. The point is to keep our minds open to ideas different than our own. This is how we expand.
This is how we invent, how we exchange information. To understand the dynamics of human behavior and relationships with clarity. Understanding of some of the why without condoning the behavior.
So now I'm light enough that if I flap my hands, I might fly up in the sky...
That's enough yacking....let's look in on her....
*****************************
I sit in a little hut, a fort, a small space my sister and I put up together. A little escape pod if you will. I listened to the loud silence crash all around me enveloping the great and huge relief within me.
I'm pouring shudders out in gratitude that I do not have to go back there.
I am my own woman now and no one will ever lift their hand to me again. God help them if they do!
I gobbled up two buns with jam and drank half the water in my thermos.
"Now it's time to get out of here. I thought. "I'll bolt through the woods to the bus stop on the other side." A street my parents don't normally drive.
First things first. I can't go to my friends house looking like this. I brushed my teeth without paste then pulled the brush out of my pocket.
This was going to hurt.
I poured some water out of my thermos and carefully started to go through my hair. It was a job getting the pine needles, dirt leaves, and other debris out of my hair. When I got to the back of my head, there was more than just debris. There was a dried blood clump within my hair. I poured a little bit of water on the back of my scalp which again stung but, not as bad as the first time. I held my hand over the injured area of my scalp and began to slowly brush the debris out of my hair.
It was excruciating. I took the small part of my hair surrounding the wound. Flushed the hair clump as best I could with the little water I had left.
I brushed it gently again and then took hair from the top of my head and combed it back as well. I didn't know how it looked but hopefully, much better than it was. Almost good enough to be seen.
No time like the present. I walked through the brush to the main path and began jogging along it toward the other side.
Mother would send me through here sometimes at night to go buy her cigarettes.
I'd say, "it's dark out."
She'd say, "Well, you'd better run then."
There are words I could use...grrr.
I slowed my jog to a walk because it was making my head thump. It was morning so I had time. Besides my mother wouldn't put one foot in these woods. I've yet to see my stepfather move from his chair. Except when it was time to cause pain.
I smelled the clean scent of pine and cedar drifting in the air. Squirrels were bopping about and a myriad of birds were flying from tree to tree and I thought,
"How wonderful to be so free...now I am too."
I just hope my friend will have me or know where I could go. I approached the bus stop, sat down on the bench to wait. I was a little nervous and a bit concerned but, it was night and day compared to where I came from.
A thought occurred to me again...I am free...no one can have me now.
*****************************
I remember the feeling that day sitting on the bench waiting for the bus.
I feel like I'm breaking out like a Phoenix.
I guess though, I'd make a funny looking bird.....
This chapter's from an auto bio called Ghost. It's in my portfolio if you wish to read you are welcome. Please note; Some chapters are difficult to Absorb reader discretion is advised.
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