I’m feeling particularly delicate and little this morning. Buffalo Gal is standing with her hands on her over-sized hips, frowning a warning at me. I have put this off for two days, allowing myself to be buffaloed, but today’s word kind of forced the issue with me. The word is ‘burn’. When I opened my email this morning the word was there to sere me, to make me run through the flames trying to dowse the fire. I’ve learned several valuable tools through the course of therapy, but perhaps the most profound of the lessons is that you must make your way through it to come out of it at all. It’s going to hurt, but healing is on the other side.
From my previous posts you may have come to understand my story started when I was a child and deals with sexual abuse. I was too young to make what was happening to me fit into my understanding, so I managed to find a way to make it all work. I didn’t know I was doing it, but my imagination created a world I could more easily manage by formulating false memories concerning some particularly hellacious experiences that happened in my little girl world between the tender ages of 4 through 6. As I grew older the memories I created became less ephemeral, more concrete and real and I sought out evidence to support my memories over the course of many years. When I became a teenager I began slowly sharing my memories with a few trusted people. It didn’t take me long to realize my tale was not going to be acceptable to most people. Often after I shared some of my history I would be looked at differently by the listener. I became very selective in the telling, and only opened up at all when the burden of my story became too much for me to carry alone.
Parts of my personality came to me as a means of protection and concealment, and the battle still wages when it comes to sharing my story. Sometimes Buffalo Gal covers me with her girth and tries her best to hide me from the world. She has been my defender and my comfort when I need a soft, safe place. Sometimes I can’t get past her and even though I know she wants to protect me from further hurt, she is not always successful, and sometimes she is even the instigator of pain. I trust her, but only as far as I trust myself. Sometimes the burning blue light flames back up in my mind, the sparks flying right past buffalo horns and into my eyes again, even though I know the burn for what it is now.
One of my earliest memories is of a fearfully scary blue light. I am on my back, held down by hands I can’t see. I don’t know where I am, but it seems that just moments ago I was on my mother’s bed, tucked in and waiting for sleep. Everything is shadowy and dark around me, with movement I can’t focus in on just beyond my vision. There is a blue haze hanging around me, my eyes unable to penetrate beyond it. It covers me completely and there is an occasional flash of a deeper, brighter blue from somewhere beyond my feet. I struggle to sit up, my neck straining to lift my head, but something holds me down, as if hands are on my chest. My arms flail, but are not able to connect with anything. I feel a coldness between my legs and kick out at the blue-hot horror invading my body. Something is in me, something wirey and metallic, bending into me, pushing pain up into me. I kick and scream and try to cover myself, but it continues until I can only see a hot white-blue void, and then I am gone.
There is nothing after that for the longest time. I don’t know where the memory went for awhile, but sometime later, days maybe, or weeks…I don’t know, my mother asked me about a bruise on my bottom. I remember telling her a hanger had been stuck inside of me. Of course she didn’t understand any better than I did. I didn’t have the words then and I couldn’t explain it any better. I didn’t know how to describe the burning blue light and I saw a question mark on her face, pulling her expression into disbelief when I tried to say what it was. I stopped trying. She pulled me onto her lap and hugged me, rocking back and forth a little. I let it slid away from me and it all stayed hidden for awhile then, until the goblins came for my baby brother. I had to go with them, back to where the blue light burned.
Okay, I have to be done for today. Buffalo Gal has reclaimed her Delicate Little Thang and I need to rest.
Today’s word is burn: