I DECLARE MYSELF INNOCENT OF FEELING GUILTILY COMPLICIT IN TWO MAJOR CRIMES

Here it comes—A New Year resolution that fills my heart, mind, spirit and soul with the pleasure of feeling fully, freely, and merrily alive—

As it’s been my good fortune to believe in the magic of the mind, my magic carpet ride through life has offered the intuitive portion of my processor sound reason to dive through one layer of denial after another so as to expose an inter-related series of deeper truths that fully justify my decision to absolve the sweet little girl, who haunts my subconscious, of feeling guiltily complicit in two major crimes—the first leading to her sister’s death, the second being her brain’s hypnotic complacency while a sexual predator attacked her body, leaving her psyche feeling like damaged goods (remember, this was during the 1950’s, a time when society’s stone cold double standard of morality deemed female virginity essential to good girl status) —and as no one had ever declared me guilty of committing those two crimes except for me, it’s no wonder that ‘we’ hear ourselves say:  ‘I’m my own worst enemy’ as well as ‘no one’s as hard on me as I am on myself’, repeatedly—

Hhmm ... today’s insight-driven stream of consciousness is certainly worthy of further consideration based upon this fact:  My decision to pardon myself of the double life-sentence, which the traumatized portion of my brain had condemned me to serve, proves long overdue—so just imagine how good I’ll feel to awaken, tomorrow, having freed my psyche to start the New Year with a clean slate!

And now, let’s imagine my newly liberated psyche (sporting a sparkling smile) wishing you and yours a very happy and healthy New Year while my magic wand sprinkles your intuitive intelligence with an abundance of patience and courage, both of which will prove necessary if you hope to free your psyche of every last drop of left-over guilt that may have been absorbed by your subconscious in an unprocessed, repressed (unidentified) state of being, which remains unresolved and thus, restless, to this very day.

You see, as long as your peace of mind remains restless, unexamined emotional reactions from long ago may feel stimulated to erupt, from time to time, haunting your conscious sense of well being to feel spikes of latent anxiety, which will, one day, prove to be based in undeserved guilt carried forward since childhood as had been true of my eruptive sense of unidentified anxiety until I’d felt compelled to dive so deeply into my psyche as to surface with strings of inter-related insights spotlighting deeper truths, all of which declared the good little girl (whose defense system’s terror of experiencing any more trauma had erected a wall of denial, blocking the conscious portion of my memory from remembering every traumatic experience that Mother Nature had seen fit to stuff into my subconscious along with my fear of experiencing further episodes of emotional pain like those which had already proved so severe as to have loosened my hold onto sanity, which is why Mother Nature decided to wipe my conscious awareness clean of every detail of those horrific experiences, which had scared me out of my wits, and that mental block persisted until such time as my sixth sense felt that my intelligence was ready to permeate my defense system's wall of denial so as to spotlight painful truths that proved far too complex for the inexperienced processor of a small child to fathom, and thus have those inter-related experiences begun to filter back into the conscious portion of my mind, one dark detail at a time, until today when, without so much as a shadow of a doubt, I felt ready to declare a good little girl 100% innocent of being so bad as to have felt guilty of both of those crimes—Woo Hoo!

And now, feeling freed of subconscious torment, I’m off to purchase party hats in hopes of enticing my friends' sophistication to slip right out of their minds at least for tonight as we sweep out what’s past in favor of toasting to today's host of inner strengths—most especially patience and courage— which, upon bonding together, inspire our intelligence to carve a path upon which our intuitive powers guide the conscious portion of our minds to seek out strings of insight that inspire us to grow toward meeting any challenge that the future may cast across our path while each of us wholly enjoys a peaceful sense of our good fortune, today, and with that positively focused attitude in mind, let’s lift our glasses in peaceful repose as thoughts of milestones achieved sweep our minds clear of yesteryear’s emotional mind fields, which no longer pack the punch to blow up our connection to existential security as long as the heartfelt focus of your think tank and mine remain ever more mindfully engaged with the here and now—L’Chaim—TO LIFE!
Ohhmm ...

ON THE ROAD AGAIN—AND I CAN’T HELP BUT THINK THAT ...

ON THE ROAD AGAIN—AND I CAN’T HELP BUT THINK THAT ...

If my magic wand’s ever-ready battery was actually real then with a wave of my hand, nothing could have stopped me from enjoying time with everyone I love on the coast; however, clarity concerning my brain’s waning production of long lasting levels of high octane energy highlights this reality:   My ever-ready energizer is a rechargeable battery, which, over these past few years has craved additional downtime to plug into a relaxed mental state of peaceful repose than had historically been true (and as this was the case on Xmas day, I’d felt need to rein in my ripened sense of readiness to be home a day before our leave-taking had been planned.

As today’s reflective awareness suggests that my craving for one-on-one time with myself (despite the fact that Will and I’d enjoyed another family funfest, extending over several days) I attribute my eagerness to spend a whole day riding sidekick across desert terrain quietly next to Will (who does not like long distance driving but likes riding in the passenger seat while I’m at the wheel, even less) as due to my brain’s need to mentally refuel.

Had you been a bird, perched on Marie’s festively decorated tree, you’d have witnessed the fact that any plan, asking my spirit’s main source of energy to offer up more than a quiet smile while breathing in Tony and Ray’s Xmas joy, would have required a real magic wand to wave over my head, because my processor is still transitioning away from suppressing subconscious anger, which has been resisting the reality of my age, toward graciously and thus peaceably accepting the fact that the days of fully re-charging my battery, over night, have passed.

Other than enjoying the boys’ fever pitched excitement while opening presents delivered by Santa, the better part of Xmas day proved pretty low key—and as low key is what depleted energy craves, my thought processor’s acceptance of our slo-mo pace felt buoyed by a grateful sense of grace.  On the other hand, feeling too lack luster to cavort merrily with my grandsons on Xmas Day, sees my present state of mind hovering over recent history when my low energy level was based in something deeper than advancing age.  Though my heart longed to enjoy time with my niece’s family and my cousin’s, as well, intuition cautioned me to relax whenever Tony and Ray were happily engaged with anyone’s mind other than mine, stimulating my ‘Merry’ Poppins spirit to wonder if the subconscious portion of my brain, which still keeps secrets from my conscious awareness, has sound reason to feel need to engage ‘soully’ with Me, Myself and I while ‘we three’ muster the courage necessary to bond so as to stand as boldly as one seasoned player on Life’s home plate, bat firmly in hand, eyes trained toward fielding whatever curve balls fate will surely pitch ever more frequently directly at my heart as birthdays of family and friends continue to layer up like blocks, which, having grown ever more fragile to balance with good health intact as each year lived is laid ever so carefully atop all of those that came before until each tower of blocks topples, one after another, suggestive of my current need to call forth and maintain every inner strength that Me, Myself and I have consciously worked to develop so as to defeat inner conflict from usurping control over my spirit’s sense of inner joy that longs to burst forth and express itself on a daily basis so gaily as to balance the darkening forces of reality, which recently speak all too often through my dark side as though attempting to snare Me, Myself and I into a trap with no escape hatch in plain sight—
Hhmm ...

Not going to happen on my watch!
And here’s why I believe that’s bound to be true:
Having successfully coached my sons to grow toward
Reacting like The Three Musketeers during thick and thin
I prove to be a patiently practiced straight shooter
While aiming toward achieving a host of long range goals, and
The goal that needs my inner strength of patience to
Emerge while all of my mental abilities transition toward
An attitudinal change for the better points toward
My injecting Me, Myself and I with the same tried and true
Three Musketeer Mentality that served to create
A strong hearted, quick-witted unit, made up of
Three men, whose enduring bond of brotherhood continues to
Successfully hold life’s darkest misgivings at bay, and just as
The intuitive portion of my processor served each of them well while
They'd worked, individually, toward establishing
The lasting foundation of their 'all for one and one for all attitude'
I believe the plan that’s attempting to shape up inside
My mind will draw forth those same inner strengths on
A daily basis until the intuitive bond forged by
Me, Myself and I strengthens so as to unify my powers, whether
They be housed in my subconscious, intuition or conscious mind, thus
Making sound use of every bit of my intelligence whenever need to
Wrestle inner conflict (concerning the aging process) to the mat proves
Necessary until reality and enduring joy walk the walk, hand in hand, which
I've just come to see proves to be my processor's current long range goal—not
An easy feat at this late stage of life, but definitely worthy of
The old college try at every stage of life—
Hhmm ...

7–IF MAKING NO WAVES NO LONGER FLOATS MY BOAT THEN WHAT DOES? Part 3

During the still of the night, the self assertive portion of
My voice, which still feels kind of anxious by day
Awakened Will, who remembers my shouting
Angrily —I’LL NEVER LET YOU TOUCH ME, AGAIN!

(You see, the frightened little girl, whom I'd once been, is not
The only ghost who has been hiding deep within
My subconscious for far too long, because
The predator, whom she's been fearing for
Sound reason, has been residing in
A hiding space that proves too
Close for comfort to hers!)

As I listened to my husband, who is
Known to be more cynical than not, say:
‘I really think you’re making headway’
I felt my spirit leap to life, igniting
A heartfelt flame that shot
Through my entire being, sparking
My hands to clasp together and
My eyes to sparkle as if in
Fervent thanks of a heartfelt prayer being
Answered from on high, at last—Whew!
I mean, my therapist has been encouraging
The Annie, whom I've grown up to be to
Develop the courageous hindsight necessary to
Piece together puzzling details of my youth so as to
Infuse the lonely little girl with the wholesome
Inner strength of self love, which will
Wholly work in my favor to oust that predator from
Haunting my personal well-being, once and for all!

You see, I don’t need to reach the end of
My journey for hope to re-energize my
Choice to keep my eyes open and my ears peeled
While adventuring forward on my chosen
Path so as not to miss even one small sign of
Encouragement to feel that my life’s
‘Create Your Own Adventure (which I’ve long felt
Compelled to carve out for myself) has been inspired by
My soul, which has longed to welcome my wholly healed self to
Feel completely peaceful and relaxed within my own skin ever since
The fickle finger of fate offered me an on-going series of
Inter-related of traumatic experiences that had
Scared me out of my wits during childhood when
I was seen anxiously scratching my arms raw at
The highly imaginative, deeply impressionable age of three—

As you know, intuition has been suggesting that
I’ve been nearing the angle of peaceful repose, which my soul has been
Subconsciously directing my growing sense of wholeness to
Achieve, little by little, and thus did my absorption of
Will’s affirmative assessment concerning my closing in upon
The valiant achievement of this long range goal
Offer my spirit sound reason re-energize my brain’s
Tenacious determination, which jumped for joy, propelling
My think tank to take another leap of faith based in
Self-validation feeling spurred on by the wings of love
Ohhmm ...

6–IF MAKING NO WAVES NO LONGER FLOATS MY BOAT THEN WHAT DOES? Part 2

Though I’d had no clue that
Wednesday’s train of thought was not complete when
It was published, that insight came clear to me
While rereading that post, this morning, and
I felt compelled to add insights, which had filtered into
The conscious portion of my mind so naturally as to have
Delivered another knockout punch to the undeserved guilt that
Has rained on a good little girl’s parade throughout my entire life
And with thoughts of considering those insights for yourself
I hope you, too, will freely choose to scroll back so as to
Mull over the self-empowering message that my subconscious
Felt ready to release to me, thus offering my conscious
Connection to clarity sound reason to mindfully deepen
My absorption of innocence from ‘Sin’, yet again, and as
Every additional insight proves to be a stepping stone toward
Illuminating yet another Classic Truth, freeing the frightened
Child within me from declaring herself guilty of
Wrongdoing, undeservedly, the positively focused side of
My spirit feels inspired to embrace my soul’s sense of
Inner peace more thoroughly than had felt possible before, and
Thus is it my pleasure to offer you the gift of additional insights in
Hopes of inspiring the conscious portion of your mind to feel
A growing sense of connection deepening ever more
Naturally with soul searching trains of thought that will, one day
Speak to your readiness to filter classic strings of insight (which
May be percolating within your subconscious, right now) through
Your defense system’s wall of denial so as to liberate your sense of
Wholeness to declare the frightened child who dwells within you
(And who had long ago condemned himself/herself to feeling
Guilty of sinning against the dictates of over reactive
God-like parents) innocent of feeling burdened to
Pay retribution, forever, thus pardoning your spirit from
Shouldering the subconscious burden of undeserved guilt, every
Day, for the rest of your life—Whew!

In short, every post I feel compelled to pen offers
My clarity of mind sound reason to authorize my self assertive
Voice to ‘speak’ my deeper truths (long secreted from myself)
Aloud as happened, this morning, when a new string of insights
Felt free to blend in naturally with those, which had filtered
Through my defense system’s wall of denial, last Wednesday
And since those additional insights spotlighted the fact that
My forgiveness of others (whose misjudgments had transgressed
Against my best character traits) would continue to taste bitter until
I’d absorbed sound reason to thoroughly forgive the innocence of
The impressionable child, who, residing in
My subconscious memory, had mistakenly condemned me to
Serve a life sentence at hard (mental) labor as though to
Pay penance for feeling akin to the pedophile, unnecessarily, and
As each next string of insights feels ready to emerge from
Subconscious captivity, my conscious awareness will feel
Sound reason to take yet another leap of faith toward releasing
Repressed fear or anger, concerning emotional abandonment so as
To deepen my heartfelt capacity to offer love of self as
Unconditionally as I have been challenging myself to offer that
Rare gift to my loved ones, all of whom prove as imperfect as is
True of me—so when asked what floats my boat, today, I reply:
Whereas yesteryear, my fear of expressing anger aloud saw me making
No waves that might capsize my boat, recently, I’ve begun to voice
Whatever makes me feel fearful or angry, openly, clearly and with
Sensitivity for the vulnerabilities of others, and by expressing
Whatever I feel (so as to be true to myself) I also feel free to offer
My love pure and simple, free of mixed messages, which
Having been based in defensive complexity, had served to
Mix everyone’s processors up, inclusive of mine, and thus
To free my mind and the minds of my loved ones of
‘Mixed Messaged Madness’ is a rare gift to offer, indeed—
Ohmm  ...

5–MAKE NO WAVES NO LONGER FLOATS MY BOAT—part 1

At this very moment, Will and I are in our car
Heading back to the desert after enjoying
A week with family and friends, who
Call sunny southern California home, and
Having spent this portion of the holiday season
Feeling gratified to have been guided by
Intuition to develop a well balanced attitude concerning
How best to fill my cup to the brim most especially when
My spirit springs a leak, draining my energy level to
Hover close to empty, I give thanks to the therapist whose
Sixth sense had inspired mine to seek out a colleague who
Having been well trained in EMDR therapy has been
Guiding the healthy portion of my brain to thoroughly liberate
A traumatized little girl, who resides within my memory, of
A vow that proved so unrealistic as to condemn me to feel
A vague sense of failure no matter how often I’d sucessfully
Achieved a series of heartfelt, long range goals, one following
Another like ducklings, all in a row

 Once I’d vowed to be the best little girl in the whole wide world
The repressed nature of that unrealistic promissory note
Translated into my following authority’s lead, no questions asked
No fussing allowed, and as years passed in which the self-assertive
Portion of my voice had remained subconsciously subdued behind
My defense system’s wall of denial, common sense suggests that
All conscious awareness had need to dive ever more deeply into
A mental state of disassociation from reality whenever
A sweet little girl, who’d proved far too good for her own good
Had felt compelled to comply (anxiously but complacently) with

The commands of a pedophile, who, having won my trust, had
Taken advantage of my inexperienced vulnerabilities, thus
 Compounding my think tank’s deeply confounded sense of
Inner conflict, which was based in this fact:  The conscious portion of
My brain had absorbed no clue whatsoever of The Catch 22, which had
Clearly caused my body to itch with inner need to free its
Tormented self from being physically assaulted, repeatedly, most
Especially since the conscious portion of my mind had most certainly
Absorbed Grandma’s message, stating:
‘Men only want one sinful thing’ (which God forbids Good girls to do)
And though my conscious awareness had no clue whatsoever of
Those times when my processor fell under my defense system’s
Self protective hypnotic sleeping spell, I’d felt compelled to
Submit to the pedophile’s demands as though they were
God’s commands while my subconscious (which riddled my
Body with anxious floods of deeply daunted undeserved guilt)
Most certainly felt, without a doubt, that my complacent
Participation was Bad—in fact, as BAD as BAD could be—
But rather than being BAD of me, intuitive insight riding
Out of my dark side upon a sudden streak of deeper truth
Suggests, having choked on, thus severing the self assertive
Portion of my voice from summoning help at the age of four)
My comatose state of partipation proved BAD for my
My soul’s spirit and mental health, absolving me as being
Innocent of sin so as to freely point the finger of guilt soley at
The sickened mind of the pedophile, liberating the small child
Who resides in my memory from feeling too BAD to
Feel worthy of love whenever the reality of
A human vulnerability, filtering through her wall of denial
Shows her to be as likely to slip through thin ice, feeling
All wet and freezed out of a judgmental group, whose
Emotional safety depends upon sticking to a self righteous
Belief system like glue as is true, from time to time, of
Every person who’d ever lived, inclusive of you and me—

Though penning today’s bone chilling, intuitive train of thought
Gave me the shivers, I’m relieved to say that
The fearsome content of this post is not stimulating latent anxiety to
Strike, because I can feel the arousal of courage overcoming
My sense of fear concerning my soulful need to reveal deeper truth
Concerning my first sexual experience so as to offer the traumatized
Portion of my processor signs of internal healing
Deepening—considerably, based in the fact that
The truth sets us free from guilting ourselves, undeservedly—
Hhmm ...

4—HAND DELIVERING TOYS FOR TOTS GUIDES RAVI'S SPONGE-LIKE MIND TO ABSORB HEARTFELT ATTITUDES OF KINDNESS AND GENEROSITY

This morning my heart felt sound reason to awaken smiling with

A bright and happy sense of gratitude for so many reasons, nine of which

Spotlight each of my friends, pictured above, all neighbors, who

Enjoy our monthly literary discussions as much as I do😊

Each year at holiday time, we gather together in festive celebration of

Our good fortune (It's my pleasure to select the restaurant and

Decorate the table), and in hopes of expanding

The good fortune of munchkins in need, we collect Toys for Tots, which

Are then hand delivered by my family to our local fire station as

Proved true, last week, when

I ordered a chocolate cake for the firemen, whose

Smiles greeted my loved ones warmly while accepting

The gifts collected by my friends in hopes of sharing holiday cheer with

The hearts of many children, and as to the cake, it was

Deeply appreciated, having been decorated with these words:

—Thank you for keeping us safe—

When one of the firemen held out one of the cuddly bears while

Asking Ravi if she’d like to keep it for herself

My four year old grand daughter, smiling sweetly

Offered this gracious reply:

“No thank you—these are for children who don’t have any toys.”

Ravi then listened attentively while the firefighters commended

Her selfless consideration concerning the true spirit of giving

And her eyes sparkled merrily when her new friend placed

A fire fighter’s hat on her head, which

Made her feel like a virtual member of the ‘fire fighting team’

And just as loving friendships inspire my lips to curl naturally into

A smile at my good fortune to call our neighborhood home

Our family’s annual tradition of celebrating heartfelt concepts of

Compassionate kindness, selfless generosity and joyful appreciation of

The courageous souls who safeguard our personal vulnerabilities from harm

Are thoroughly enjoyed by one and all, inclusive of

All ages from small fry to seniors—namely Papa and me.😊

Wishing each of you and your loved ones

A joyous holiday season and a healthy year ahead,

🌻🥂💖😊Gramma Annie and Papa Will

Here's Ravi receiving a gift from Auntie Marie, Uncle Barry, Tony and Ray before

Our family adventures over to our local fire station

It's a princess castle—Ravi's delighted!

Here's Ravi hand delivering the thank you cake to our local fire fighters, who'd
Already taken the toys for tots inside

Our family's annual tradition of thanking our first responders while delivering an abundance of toys for tots guides Ravi's sponge-like mind to absorb heartfelt feelings of kindness and generosity, which are naturally inspired to develop as she learns to balance her brain's instinctive desire to receive gifts with an intuitive feeling of personal well being, based in her growing sense of self enrichment that ensues resultant of gift giving—

Ohhmm ...

3—IT'S MY PLEASURE TO DECORATE A FESTIVE TABLE FOR OUR BOOK GROUP'S ANNUAL HOLIDAY LUNCHEON

During recent weeks
I’d felt need to consciously call forth
A host of inner strengths to lift my sagging jolly
Toward scaling the heights of ho ho ho
And knowing that a picture is
Worth a thousand words
These photos will reflect that which
The joyful side of my imaginative process chose to
Create so as to detour the retroactive portion of
My brain from raining on my holiday parade—

As to my plan for centerpiece success:
First my think tank's creative imagination plays around with
Lots of ideas, as though all on its own, making a list and checking it
Twice before my decision maker readies itself to shop at
Tuesday Morning and The Dollar Store for a wide selection of
Discounted decorations with which to adorn a festive table, and
Whatever I can't find that’s leapt fancifully and thus freely out of
The naturally joyful side of my mind is ordered from and delivered by
Amazon Prime—Then, when everything my think tank needs to
Assemble is spread out before me, I spend my spare time creating
The imaginative picture envisioned by mind’s eye on
My dining room table, and as my childlike enjoyment of
The creative process improves upon my original vision to
The satisfaction of my perfectionistic tendencies (which diehard)
I can be seen reaching for my iPhone so as to snap an actual picture of
My original creation so as to replicate the designer’s
Finished product exactly as it is, because
Generally, the centerpiece is carried to the restaurant in
Several boxes so as to protect many fragile pieces in need of
Reassemblance before my friends arrive, each one holding
A colorful offering to add to the basket provided by yours truly to
Haccomodate a wide variety of Toys for Tots, which invariably
Make up a goodly portion of the centerpiece that I love to
Create, every year, because its composition is inspired by
Inner joy, which chases gloomy thoughts right out of
My brain based in the depth of my desire to draw forth
A cheek splitting grin from within the smiling soul of
Each and every child, none of whom deserves to
Find a heartless piece of coal placed into his or her small, hopeful
Hand, all of whom deserve to pull a plum of a prize out of their
Stockings hung by the chimney with care in hopes of adults
Becoming ever more aware of need to create a world in which
Small fry can grow up feeling safe from being harmed by
Every power monger’s long reaching call to arms—
(See tower of cuddly bears, surrounded by dominos, hot wheels
Along side elephants sporting jingle bells, magic markers and card games
Chosen for boys and girls of all ages, and thus are the blues chased away by
Entrancing our minds with the holiday spirit of heartfelt giving)
Ohhmmm ... 😃

IT’S A MAD MAD WORLD 1

I’ve said it before, and I’m sure to feel need to say it, again—
The question is not what’s wrong with our president’s brain
(The answer to that riddle is as clear as clear can be) but rather
What’s wrong with the brains of our legislators, whose
Zombied-like state of mind continues to empower
A mad man to run our nation amuck—stimulating
My processor to ask:  What can we do to change
The sinking nature of our nation’s collective
Spirit for the better before two additional years
Under trump’s boarish lack of skillful leadership sees
The USA slinking ever more deeply into
Political sludge, bringing this frightening reality
To the forefront of my mind: The lengthy nature of
Our nation’s legislative stagnation offers our volatile
Economic situation sound reason to sink ever more
Blindly into quicksand, and—to the grave consternation of
Our collective well being—no rope to pull the mental state
Of our legislators out of denial is seen dangling within
Reach of our grasp—Oy gevalt!

During recent weeks
I’ve felt need to lift my spirit’s jolly
To soar past the blues toward
The heights of ho ho ho
Sooo, these next few posts will
Reflect that which
The positively focused
Side of my processor
Chose to do in order to detour
The retroactive portion of
My brain from
Raining on my holiday parade
Hhmm ...

WHOSE SPIRIT RUNS VISERALLY THROUGH MY BLOODSTREAM?

Yesterday’s simplification of the complex train of thought running through
My last insight-laden post led my processor to awaken
This morning,  feeling the pressing emergence of yet another
String of insights, which spotlighted sound reason as to why
I cry or howl or yell aloud during emotionally turbulent dreams, and
As this string of insights served to land a solid punch to
The primary source of my brain’s inner conflict, the wind was
Blown out of its sails, suggesting that my think tank will not
Tend to drift off course now that my conscious awareness has
Been given sound reason to declare itself reigning champion over
Subconscious flare ups of mind blowing episodes of PTSD by
A knock out so powerfully delivered as to arouse your sense of
Intrigue (I hope) to feel need to scroll back to that post, one
More time, so as to take a ringside seat where your
Possessor can absorb this addition to my train of thought, which has
Clearly empowered my think tank to wholly embrace
The indomitable, never-give-up spirit of Rocky Balboa—
Ohhmm ...

SIMPLIFICATION EASES ABSORPTION

My think tank feels need to mention that
The highly complex train of thought comprising
My last post has been simplified

2—ADDITIONAL INSIGHTS CONCERNING MY VOW TO GOD TO BE THE BEST LITTLE GIRL IN THE WORLD

I must have made that subconscious vow after hearing my grandma absolve herself of Janet’s death by telling my mommy that God took her baby back as punishment, because mommy was bad.  (Details as to why Grandma’s defense system had shattered her daughter’s broken heart with such a self righteous misjudgment will be revealed in a detailed story, which, having been published several years ago, will be copied and pasted into a new post, quite soon.)

Though my Grandma's self righteous accusation had infuriated my mommy's devastated spirit, Mommy knew God didn’t take Janet’s life to punish her for being bad but I didn’t.

What Mommy didn’t realize is the fact that a huge disparity exists between knowing and feeling, for example:

My intelligence knows not to hold the adult I’ve become responsible for the life or death of my loved ones.  However, insight suggests that I’ll continue to feel haunted by guilt upon the emergence of any personal imperfection based in the fact that my subconscious fear of being unworthy of love will continue to flare up, short circuiting my brain’s connection to logic until the pilot light igniting the latent nature of that fear is extinguished, freeing my whole brain to accept the reality of imperfection as being natural to the human condition so as to empower me to sleep peacefully rather than feeling so restless as to wrestle with the repressed state of my inner conflict, night after night, while dreams concerning imperfections that threaten my sense of personal safety to flood with feelings of latent anxiety that spike so high as to reawaken the intensity of yesteryear’s itch to get out of my skin until intuitive trains of thought, filtering strings of insight into my conscious awareness, identified my unrealistic vow to God as being the primary source of my inner conflict, which is based in this classic fact of life:  Knowing that perfection does not exist has not released me from feeling personally responsible for my loved ones’ ongoing well being, and here’s why I know that today’s insight-laden train of thought is true, through and through:

‘Knowing’ is based in logic, which is the opposite of emotion (feeling).  So, in order to reconcile the wrestling match that has divided my self image to exist at opposite poles since the age of three, I’ll continue to participate in EMDR therapy (which, session by session, encourages my intelligence to rewire the conflicted portion of my thought processor to detour around misfired guilt-laden emotional reactions, which having been aimed directly at my vulnerabilities for seventy-two years), have, just this week, freed my insight-driven power of intuitive thought to reveal the main source of my deeply layered, repressed feelings of undeserved guilt, which, upon reawakening in the still of the night, continued to challenge my smarts to  re-engage with and make sound use of the self assertive portion of my voice to calm latent attacks of anxiety from spiking whenever I fail to live up to my impossible vow of perfection, and now I know why my voice shouts aloud while the rest of me is sleeping fitfully until Will is awakened, feeling need to soothe latent uprisings of repressed fears of abandonment or explosive eruptions of anger, repeatedly.

No wonder why my think tank awakens feeling tired after having spent the night feeling split into a pair of well matched wrestlers duking it out until undeserved ‘guilt trips’ are down for the count, freeing my intelligence from feeling intuitive need to play capture the (illusive) flag of insight that quells yesteryear’s anxiety from spiking so high as to scale over my defense system’s subconscious wall of denial in the dark of night—Geez!

In the absence of EMDR THERAPY, I’d had no clue that PTSD, which had remained undiagnosed, caused my brain’s circuitry to short wire by shooting my current connection to personal safety with sparks of yesteryear’s fear of gloom and doom, guilting my imperfections to ‘feel’ so bad as to believe myself unworthy of love if anything I’d said or did or didn’t say or had failed to do had caused my family’s or friends’ sunny sides to frown and turn away from me, even momentarily, igniting my fear of feeling banished to the dark side of the moon, forever and a day, and if acknowledging my vow is not enough to extinguish the pilot light under my fear of ‘feeling’emotionally abandoned so as to suffer the consequence of condemning my imperfect self to solitary confinement, and if my next EMDR appointment is scheduled after the holidays then—

In Jan. Of 2019–

I’ll comply with the astute guidance of my therapist, whose professionally trained expertise continues to gently arouse the readiness of the intuitive portion of my brain to continue to peel the onion all the way back to age three in order to exhume emotion that remains deeply repressed so that I can actually feel the child’s anesthetized pain reverberating viscerally throughout my adult body on its way toward being thoroughly released from subconscious captivity, at long last, and as I know that fear of ‘feeling’ the depths of yesteryear’s pain is also repressed, my intelligence has need to pump up my spirit’s main source of positively focused energy so as to fuel the conscious portion of my processor with the courage it takes to empower the wounded portion of my mind to stare down the eye of this tiger until the new year celebrates the arrival of reinforcements carrying big guns aimed at slaying yesteryear’s peace-scorching dragon so that flames of undeserved guilt, concerning my unattainable vow, will ‘feel’completely extinguished—hopefully, forever and a day.

And now, my writing time is up, because Ravi is due to arrive, momentarily with Steven, as we three are on our way to the local fire station—I kid you not!  More about the back story that sparked our annual, positively focused adventure with fire fighters, who offer Ravi’s well balanced, four year old mind sound reason to develop deeply rooted feelings of compassionate kindness and generosity, naturally (without suffering the pain of imagined emotional rejection), when next we meet—unless an unexpected detour swerves my time machine off of my intuitively chosen path between now and then
Hhmmm ...

1—AN INSIGHT EMERGES SPOTLIGHTING THIS FACT: SUBCONSCIOUS ATTITUDE IS EVERYTHING

So, here it is, emergent at last—the intuitive feeling that has sensitized the healthy portion of my processor to believe that every inter-related string of insights, which, having filtered from subconscious memory through my defensive wall of denial into my conscious awareness, is leading the traumatized portion of my processor to place its faith in my brain's growing ability to nip future episodes of PTSD in the bud by fortifying my intelligence to thoroughly absorb this classic fact of life:  No part of the knowledgeable adult whom I’ve consciously ‘grown up’ to be has need to feel honor bound to carry forth the heavy weight of a guilt ridden vow made unknowingly by a four year old child, whose subconscious had pocketed the self defeating misconception of thinking myself so omnipotent as to have harbored the egocentric attitude that imagined my brain as being responsible for holding the life or death of my loved ones in the palm of my hand—as in:  If I live a perfect life, everyone I love will be well—however, one misstep on my part and we’ll all be fated to face the terrifying consequence of feeling sucked back, trapped inside the little house of horrors—forevermore!  (Not even Poe could have rivaled my think tank's woeful tale of doom and gloom!). And if you ask why I’d felt honor bound to be the best little girl in the world, I’d smack my forehead while this brand new awareness replied:

Oy Gevalt!  My connection to personal safety has been feeling chased by danger, closing in, making me itch to get out of my skin ever since Grandpa and Janet disappeared without a trace!  Seriously!  It’s not my skin that I’ve felt desperate need to scratch but rather, I’ve spent a lifetime scratching beneath the surface of my conscious awareness in need of uncovering and relieving myself of the underlying vow of goodness that I’d unconsciously dedicated myself to uphold once Lauren (who, thank God, didn’t die) survived the coma (that had scared all of our spirits half to death inclusive of the doctor and firefighters), offering my mommy’s deepest fear sound reason to subside, freeing her smile to embrace everyone with heartfelt gratitude—including me—many times, every day!
  Up until this very minute, God was the only one who knew of my subconscious vow, founded in how desperately I’d missed my mommy’s loving smiles,  mindful attentiveness, easy laughter and warm hearted embrace during the year that followed Grandpa’s and Janet’s mysterious disappearances!

And as an added bonus, today’s insight-driven stream of consciousness has offered my processor sound reason to comprehend the mysterious nature of the head-on collision that had dizzied my relationship with my beloved mother to feel sucked back into the little house of horrors, again, after my father had passed as suddenly as had been true of Grandpa and Janet—and the fact that the saddest experiences of both of our lives (separated by seven decades) had proved to have been interrelated suggests that the power of intuitive thought works in mysterious, mind bending ways, indeed!
Super-sized Hhmmm ...

LET’S HOPE TO FIND MY RESTLESS SOUL'S DEEPLY PERSONAL HOLY GRAIL ...

Again, the insight driven portion of my mind drew my processor back to this post:
OVERNIGHT, INSIGHTS COME POURING OUT FAST AND—FURIOUS
Why?  To guide my intuitive powers to blend so naturally with
The positively focused side of my imagination as to inject that train of thought with
Additional insights, which, having emerged, this morning
Spotlighted my spirit's lifelong quest to seek out and grasp my soul’s very own
Deeply personal version of the holy grail, which, upon
Showing its illusive self to my conscious awareness, will transform
My processor’s darkly complex, night wanderings into
Sweet dreams (which have rarely been mine), thus freeing my whole self to
Relax ever so deeply rather than sleeping fitfully, and once today’s imaginative
Change for the better becomes tomorrow’s reality, the conscious portion of
My processor (having mustered the courage to penetrate my subconscious ever
More deeply, repeatedly, in hopeful pursuit of insight concerning how best to
Banish repressed feelings of doom and gloom from haunting the sunny side of
My personality as the future unfolds) will awaken to each brand new day humming
A light hearted song emanating freely from within the melodic, sweet natured
Deeply enriched, self assertive center of my brain, which feeling wholly
Healed from PTSD will gladly gift the inquisitive portion of my think tank’s highly
Sensitized connection to courage sound reason to feel a wholly relaxed
(Long overdue) sense of peaceful repose—and if today’s deeply
Imaginative train of thought actually comes true by morning light then
My heart/mind/spirit connection will feel sound reason to be
At one with my soul, and what, I ask, could possibly feel
More relaxing than a self-empowered insight-driven, positively
Focused vision such as this post offers my processor to
Consider, right Before I lay myself down to sleep, hoping to
Enjoy naught but sweet dreams, throughout the night —
Ohhmm ...😊💤

I WONDER IF A DETAILED ACCOUNT OF MY LIFE WILL FREE ME TO KNOW MYSELF IN A ‘WHOLE’ NEW WAY? HHMMM ,,,

Since the detailed story of Janet’s death was penned and posted, several years back, I wonder if, upon reflecting more freely than ever before about that pivotal time of my life (when the well balanced, on-going development of my self-assertive voice was fearsomely traumatized), will stimulate my brain’s stalled sense of readiness to release the key insight that will unlock my mental block, which prohibits my intuitive powers from communicating detailed memories of true stories—which have remained so defensively slanted in memory as to alert my knowledgeable intelligence of need to clear the air of yesteryear’s egocentric and thus distorted image of myself so that I can clearly see the whole person whom I had really been rather than concentrating my focus upon wounded character traits, which social insecurity had magnified throughout junior high, high school and beyond, right up until —perhaps—today—
Hhmmm—HUGE Hhmm!

I mean, seriously, if common sense suggests that a detailed account of true tales beyond grammar school will remain mentally blocked from my storyteller’s conscious awareness until stories of childhood trauma have been penned with an objective connection to insight intact then today's insight suggests that those stories will remain suppressed within a mental block until stories already posted, concerning the earliest stage of my personality development, have been revealed more objectively to me.  (I chose the word suppressed rather than repressed, because the conscious portion of my brain knows those true stories, which have not yet been penned, exist in a state of limbo, hovering between the subconscious portion of my memory and my conscious awareness.)

In case you'd like to ask:  Annie, aren't you sick of all this soul searching, yet?
I'd reply:  YES!  YES  YES
On the other hand—each time I stop to consider all of the mind bending
Painstaking work that the well-balanced portion of my brain has chosen to
Tackle in order to gain insight into how best to reveal and heal
The injured portions of my self image, which, having scarred down, remain
Stuck in a series of inter-related childhood traumas, I feel pride surging naturally
From within my spirit's soul concerning my character development's chosen
Path a a whole, and if you ask what makes me feel that today's self assessment
Is based in deeper truth, I'd reply:  Upon reflection, I feel as though years of
Emotionally painful work have been paying off, big time, all along, and
As that’s the self assertive voice of my intuitive intelligence talking (not
My wounded ego’s defensive imagination), I truly believe that the host of
Well balanced inner strengths, which is innate to human brains, has
Continued to guide the traumatized portion of my processor to
Rehabilitate itself, little by little, one step forward at a time, inspiring
My positively focused attitude to lead me toward experiencing
One life changing epiphany after another, each of which stimulates
My sixth sense to continue to guide me toward feeling like I’m always
On the verge of discovering something BIG without having to re-experience
Full blown attacks of yesteryear’s latent anxiety, repeatedly!
Aha!  So this is what Hhmm/Ohhmm feels like when my whole mind feels
Naturally relaxed and sensitively inquisitive, rather than feeling
Anxiously driven to heal and gain control over yet another unexpected
Uprising of he steryear’s emotional pain, and if you ask how I feel about
My brain's ever deepening capacity to grasp today’s insight driven
Positively focused change for the better in my attitude towards
Healing myself of yesteryear's repressed pain that's based in
Feeling guilty of being a bad person when I know that's not true
Here would be my singsong reply:  I like it, uh huh, uh huh—I like it—
A lot!

In short—I love knowing that the conscious portion of my brain continues to
Develop the capacity to calm spiking anxiety from scaring my spirit’s
Inner strengths out of my wits by way of my having patiently worked to
Peel the onion until the conscious portion of my thought processor has
Gained another positively focused sense of intuitive insight concerning
My quest to identify yet another subconscious fear or self defeating attitude in
Need of changing for the better—for example—my power of
Intuitive thought has just reminded my conscious mind that
Spiking anxiety is actually my subconscious befriending me
(Rather than attacking me) by signaling my sense of
Intelligent intrigue to arise and regain control over
My think tank before my dark side’s heavy handed
Negatively focused, imaginative wanderings run away with
My emotional reactiveness in the dark of night like
The dish ran away with the spoon after the cow jumped over the moon—
I mean, let's face it:  Each time the fear-based negatively focused side of
Your imagination and mine runs amuck, our thought processors
Have been known to take us on a wild ride that bucks
Our connection to logic right off the horse that, having mistaken
A car backfiring for a smoking gun, unexpectedly rises up on
Its hind legs before taking off like a shot (I actually witnessed that
very thing happen to a dear friend who’d been my twice weekly
Riding partner, but that was long ago when her three daughters and
My three sons were very young (as were we)
Fortunately, my friend only broke two ribs—
Unfortunately my friend’s desire to saddle up remains
Saddled with fear of what had passed, long ago, to this very day
Hmmm/Ohhmm ...

BTW, portions of the post published before this one had
Been in need of repair, and those repairs have been
Readied for re-reading if you are so inclined—

OVERNIGHT, INSIGHTS COME POURING OUT FAST AND—FURIOUS—HHMMM

As reflection is not redundant when the goal is retention (of insight-driven streams of consciousness, which serve to deepen my brain’s capacity to heal its traumatized self from feeling stimulated to suffer through bouts of PTSD), I've learned to re-consider the part I’d played (or did not play) during a childhood drama that proved so dark as to transform my sunny home into the little house of horrors, which had tried to suck the well balanced mental attitude of a three year old child into a bottomless pit of emotional despair until Mother Nature saw fit to call forth my defense system to save my sanity from tumbling straight down into Alice’s rabbit hole, so, let’s take a moment to steady our nerves, straighten our thinking caps and fortify our connection to courage, because—ready or not—here comes whatever is about to pour freely out of the intuitive portion of my thought processor, right now

In Dec. of 1943—
I was born to a family whose adoration made me feel like the sun rose and set with my smile.

 In July of 1946—
My father’s father (my beloved grandpa—the only grandpa I’d ever known and loved) died, unexpectedly right on the spot where he'd gasped, clutched his chest and fallen to the ground of a massive heart attack at the age of 52, leaving every adult who’d supported my spirit’s sunny connection to emotional safety utterly shocked and devastated by grief.  Six weeks later—

In September of 1946—
My baby sister Janet was born, and for reasons that I couldn’t fathom, everyone thought she was so adorable that a little black cloud seemed to push the sunshine of their love away from me toward her, which made a good little girl feel BAD—Hmmm ...

In November of 1946—
(On my parent’s 5th wedding anniversary to be exact)
My healthy baby sister could not be awakened from her nap.

The unimaginable horror of Janet's sudden death coming close on the heels of Grandpa's demise left every adult who’d supported my spirit’s sunny connection to emotional safety utterly shocked and so devastated by grief as to have missed the fact that the undeveloped processor of a wide-eyed, dark haired, little girl was absorbing pure terror in an unprocessed state while she'd wandered around an apartment crowded with people, many of whom she did not know, all of whom were crying and wringing their hands, day after day, and the most terrifying aspect of everything that proved too traumatically complex for her undeveloped think tank to comprehend was this:  During this lengthy, deeply confounding period of time, her not-quite-three-year-old think tank could not fathom why people she'd loved had disappeared into thin air, and as she had no clue who might be next—maybe Mommy.  Maybe Daddy.  (Maybe even herself—her brain's absorption of traumatized terror grew so overwhelming as to have swallowed the self assertive portion of her intelligent voice, which got to feeling so insignificant as to have felt little reason to express her needs with clarity intact, and as her needs seemed to matter so little (when compared to the needs of others), they were repressed along with the sweet, little girl's self-assertive voice inside a tightly zipped pocket, secreted within her subconscious, leaving the people pleaser portion of her brain to walk through each next stage of her life feeling very much alone and deeply conflicted most especially when she'd anxiously, quietly, had not yet developed the inner strengths necessary to fend off predators, who’d instinctively sensed that unhealed wounds made her easy prey—and to think that this bone chilling, unprocessed feeling remained lodged between my subconscious and conscious awareness ever since early childhood until insight spoke clearly to me, today, offers my intelligence sound reason to call forth it’s positively focused power of imaginative thought to place that key insight into my intuition's open hand so as to empower my conscious awareness to identify my lifelong sense of inner conflict by unlocking the door of the escape room, thus liberating the self assertive portion of a little girl’s voice to flash forward toward adulthood with one wave of my mind's magic wand, thus offering the people pleaser reason to cough up her self assertive voice free of anxiety so as to save her spirit from feeling devoured by predators, lurking close by, licking their chops in hopes of feasting on the unhealed wounds of her heart.  (Oy!  Can today's insight driven, intuitive train of thought, which had undermined my peace of mind for more than seven decades, really be mine?)  Thank goodness, I've been inclined toward mining the dark side of my mind for insight until this key insight to unlock the escape room so as to liberate my peace of mind was clearly mine!

OMG!  Is it possible—even probable—that once my self assertive, inner strengths feel free to blend seamlessly with the people pleaser portion of me, I’ll be WHOLE, suggesting that the main root of my lifelong inner conflict has actually been revealed!

Holy smokes!  Is it possible that today’s stream of consciousness is my very own, deeply personal holy grail that will quell anxiety attacks, which had functioned to alert my intelligence to mend the split that had separated my people pleasing traits from the self assertive portion of my voice, thus severing my spirit's mindful (mind full) sense of self in half?

I mean, think about it:  My self assertive voice has been stalking my mental well being with need to heal the wounded portions of my self esteem, which had felt imperfectly unlovable since the age of three when my fear of not being good enough to warrant the love of imperfect human beings made me feel so alone as to imagine myself either super human or wounded prey to evil closing in—like Superman, but with this difference.  Superman's xray vision see chunks of kryptonite, separating him from his inner strengths, whereas my kryptonite, having been buried subconsciously, could only be felt each time anxiety spiked to signal my smarts of the fact that my assertive voice, lodged in my throat, would continue to cause me to choke until such time as it felt free to blend, like a smoothie made of healthy ingredients, with the people pleaser portion of my think tank in a manner that proves to wholesome to my mental health as to fortify my spirit to stand strong on its own in defense of my honor and guilt free innocence of having condemned myself so bad as to have sentenced my peace of mind to solitary confinement for life.   OMG—Having railroaded my undeveloped thought processor into the hot seat, at the age of three, I've been deserving of an insight driven parole hearing, forever!  Whew!

As I’ve been thrashing my way through angry dreams, night after night, while my inner strength of self assertiveness has been attempting to guide the people pleaser to stop  feeling like wounded prey, my subconscious wanderings have grown loud enough to awaken Will, who remembers my crying out in distress changing to anger, though I do not; on the other hand, I do remember vividly painted scenes from my dreams that seem to be so unrelated as to make little sense, though my therapist assures me that everything in a dream is logically connected, suggesting that once my subconscious wanderings are astutely interpreted, my brain's intelligent capacity to heal psychologically continues to strengthen.  So, the fact that those deeply complex dreams continue to invade my connection to peace of mind, night after night, makes me wonder if, perhaps, my soul's personal quest to seek out the holy grail is still a tad beyond my thought processor’s current mental grasp—geez!  While the brain is in the process from healing from trauma, life remains deeply confusing!

I have no photos to post of Janet, because my mommy's brother, thinking to help my mommy recover from a lengthy depression, had taken it upon himself to throw them out after our baby’s death.  Boy!  Was I glued to the spot when Mommy’s zombie-like, dull-eyed spirit suddenly leaped back to life so inflamed was she with the raw intensity of fury, which having been in desperate need of unleashing, aimed the explosive extent of itself directly at my uncle, scaring my spirit almost to death until Mommy’s natural reaction collapsed on her bed, releasing another heart wrenching outpouring of sobs as if her brother's behavior had seemingly depressed her mind and spirit more than ever before!  Boy!  Just as I didn't want to make my mommy too sad to get out of bed, I sure didn't want to ever cause Mommy's fury to lash out at me!  So, I’d remained glued to this spot or that spot, eyes and ears riveted upon everything the adults were saying and doing unless I was seen wandering anxiously, aimlessly from room to room, taking in every grown up reaction in sight, thus offering my brain a fast forward rendition of every level of empathetic grief while my sunny side, quaking quietly with fear, continue to darken and my anxious, unprocessed state of mental confusion continued to heighten as days became weeks and then months of relentless grief ... but I'm getting ahead of myself—

In December of 1946—
Two weeks after Janet’s funeral, I turned three.  For months in the aftermath of our baby’s terrifying disappearance, everyone in my little corner of the world—most especially my beloved mother—was seen walking around our apartment in that wooden legged, zombie-like state (and if mommy had so much as felt like leaving her bed, at all, I’d want to wipe dry the silent tears streaming freely down her sleep deprived cheeks—so achingly did I long for her arms to wrap lovingly, protectively around my three year old insecurities, like Daddy’s did, every evening when he'd come home from work— Hhmmm—whatever could I do to make my deepest unmet need come true?

Maybe if I was a really, really, really good girl, in fact the best in the world, my exemplary behavior would inspire Mommy’s sunny side to smile back at me, so I'd been as good as gold while smiling as bright as a sunbeam, but nothing I did or said inspired Mommy's smile to reappear, so one day, just like Mommy‘s eyes had dulled and her smile had disappeared (along with Janet, whose angelic presence had been carved into her headstone), my hollowed spirit caved in, dulling my eyes and drooping my shoulders for lack of energy until my sagging smile, feeling to heavy to hold up by myself, had seemingly died, too.  The doctor told my daddy to get my mommy with child, ASAP.  Daddy listened up—

In April of 1947
Mommy, being fertile, conceived.
While I scratched till I bled

In December of 1947—
I turned four, and one month later—

In January of 1948—
My parents brought my baby sister, Lauren, home from the hospital
OMG!  Lauren looked exactly like Janet!
OMG!  What if Lauren was Janet, come back from wherever she'd been!)
OMG!  Maybe if I was a really, really, really good girl, causing no frown to appear on anyone's face, ever again, maybe my grandpa would come back—or—
Maybe if I made a mistake or did anything bad or disappointed anyone, people I'd loved would begin to disappear again, and maybe, the day would dawn when I'd be left all alone—or what if everyone I'd loved stuck together but I, having been bad, had been left out in the cold looking in—you know, kind of like the sad story of The ragged Little Match Girl—who, holding the way to ignite warmth in the palm of her hand, had no clue how naturally she'd fired up love in everyone's hearts while repressing the anxious chill in her own!

OMG!  Over time, my defense system repressed the key to my inner conflict along with bouts of high anxiety so deeply inside my subconscious that my itch to get out of my skin deepened until I'd awaken at night crying for Mommy, who'd lay down on my bed in hopes of comforting me—and thus did the pleaser-smile-by-day-and-cry-for-the-loss-of-her-self-assertive-voice-by-night ...

As my real world felt way too scary and far too confusing for the brain of an imaginative, sweet, little girl of four to process, Mother Nature stepped in to save the last threads of my connection to emotional security from snapping by packing my think tank off to 'enjoy' an existential adventure that inspired my power of intuition to open the door to the Land of Denial, where, upon taking up permanent residence, my smile's sparkle re-ignited and became so contagious that people were naturally drawn toward such an agreeable, helpful little girl, who'd not consciously worried about being 'left out' of the fold in the cold, all alone—until I was eleven and our family moved from our apartment in the city into the dream house in the suburbs that my father, strong of heart and spirit, had built for his precious family, where my many layered mask of super duper self confidence (which had fooled everyone, most of all ME) forbade me from revealing this sad fact that my defense system could not deny:  Annie, who'd begun kindergarten by comforting her crying classmates (and had continued to grow toward becoming a self confident leader in the classroom as well as on the playground), experienced sound reason to feel like a social misfit several months after enrolling in my new suburban school—and thus did the happy-go-lucky, self confident mask, which had fooled everyone who had thought to know me well, begin to crack.  (Note arms ba ndaged from itching to get out of my skin in the photo above as well as in next one, below).  BTW, stories offering a detailed version of my childhood were posted, several years back, after which a mental block developed that refused to free my memory to pen any story beyond jr. high, which is why I think it best to hold on to our thinking caps and buckle our safety belts as our ride in my time machine jet propels this post from 1948,  past six decades of my life, all the way—

To November of 2014—
When Ravi was born—

And now it's December—the month of my birthday—2018
Suggesting that Ravi's innately intelligent, sponge-like think tank has just turned four
And I'm glad to say that, thus far, my grand daughter's pleasing personality and
Self assertive voice suggests that a well balanced little girl, whose age appropriate
Thought processor absorbs everything her adult role models do and say, is not
Afraid to declare that airing her needs, which ring aloud, clear as a bell, is
Every bit as significant as is true when we air ours!  And our most significant
Shared need regardless of age, is our desire to feel worthy of unconditionally love

Time and again, while playing with my bright as a sunbeam grand-daughter, my smile’s natural sparkle witnesses the intuitive powers of a four year old child’s well balanced, emotionally secure brain highlighting her vivid imagination, which naturally knows no bounds, suggesting why her positively focused thought processor actually believes that the magic of the mind exists as a matter of fact, and though that's a very good (and quite frequently, a very funny thing)‚ unfortunately, it’s not uncommon for the wounded think tanks of adults to remain stuck in a negatively focused place where their darkest imaginings are believed factual, suggesting why closed-minded attitudes, which shape up during childhood remain rooted in fantasies of one's own making as many adults transition from one stage of life to the next without ever becoming emotionally matured, 'grown ups'—and thus do childish reactions and churlish behaviors cause so much unnecessary trouble and grief throughout our defensive world—hello donald trump)

Did I mention that several weeks after Janet's tragic death, our tragedy worsened immeasurably when my mommy's mother blamed her daughter for our baby's death?

Did I mention how their impassioned fights, secreted from my father, terrified me, anew?

Did I mention that we three watched over Lauren, most especially when she was sleeping, like a trio of mother hens?

Did I mention that six months after my 4th birthday, Lauren fell into a coma, arousing my mother's greatest fear to wail out loud:  OMG!  Nooo!  Nooo! Not again!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Did I mention that from the highly impressionable age of 2 until I was 5, a blue eyed, dark haired child, who'd scratched her arms and legs until she'd bled (and been wrapped in bandages), had continued to repress pure terror behind her congenial smile's ever-ready-eager-to-help-and-please-anyone-with-everything attitude, while repressed fear pierced her peace of mind?

And if, between the ages of eleven and seventeen, kids had bullied a child (who'd swallowed her self assertive voice) for having become fat while an adult, who had won my love, had sexually abused me, secretly, repeatedly, well—thank goodness Mother Nature had called upon my defense system (beginning when I was three) to protect my brain's connection to sanity by blocking my conscious mind so as to disassociate completely from every deeply distressing personal experience concerning every emotional or physical assault, all of which remained memorized within the darkly terrified, deeply traumatized portion of my brain, which, going by the name of Subconscious, lies in wait for any stimulus that offers the unconscious portion of my think tank sound reason to re-ignite an unidentified, repressed negatively focused emotional reaction to filter into my conscious mind in an unprocessed state by arousing a sudden spike of anxiety that makes me feel as though a foggy, personally threatening danger is suddenly closing in, severing my processor's intelligence from clarity, because my awareness has been swept into yesteryear's subconsciously disassociated state of a terrified three or four or five year old child, suggesting why there are times when my adult connection to logic is no where to be seen.  I still can't read about or watch a movie about or listen to the news when the topic is child abuse or sexual assault ...

So, thank goodness a therapist, who does not practice EMDR therapy (which strengthens my brain's intuitive capacity to heal the traumatized portion of itself from PTSD) introduced me to one who does, and based in the knowledge that my power of intuition has guided my processor to acquire for many years, I've come to see how, during every stage of my life, the overwhelming nature of subconscious fear, lurking behind my sparkling smile's many layered wall of denial, has had a heavy hand in formulating more of my existential decisions than my conscious smarts could have ever clearly conceived on my own, so thank goodness, I've had the good fortune to benefit from the healing effects of EMDR therapy on PTSD—

Did I mention that the younger your processor is when trauma short wires a portion of your brain, the longer it takes to work at peeling the many layered onion so as to heal whatever had wounded your self esteem, which will remain stuck in what feels like a 'bad' place until you come to see that spiking anxiety signals you, repeatedly, to seek out an unidentified self defeating attitude that's still tying your think tank into tightly tensed knots—unnecessarily?
Hhmmm ...