Friday the 13th and guess who playing Jason?
I went to sleep yesterday afternoon, and I’m just now waking up. I have literally worked my body to its end. I am worn out. It hurts to walk. My feet are pulsating; they are throbbing.

Anyways, I feel so closed off and guarded. For instance, I really want to open up to my sister and let her know about things but there is always something stopping me. I just don’t feel comfortable enough. Sometimes I’ll go against the feeling and talk to her, but i can’t even be fully Open about the story. I leave out bits and pieces. I wish I could talk to her the same way that I write or type. When I’m pouring out my soul, there’s no barrier. I’m free to say whatever I want without even thinking about it.
It’s odd too, because I have friends that enjoy reading my thoughts so I’ll send them all my entries. Im perfectly okay with doing that, but why can’t I just send it to my sister. I sent her like one of two, but they were more knowledge filled than heartfelt. I even told her I would tell her about my EDMR or EMDR, can’t even remember the acronym, but I never did. Of course she wants to know how I’m doing with my treatment, but it’s just hard. I feel like she won’t get it.
Today I want to focus on my childhood. I don’t understand why so much of my youth is blocked out. I vaguely remember my mother and my father. If I try to think really, really hard then some random memory would surface. Such as the time my dad tried to make spaghetti without sauce. It was the most disgusting thing in my life and I swear the meat was grey. Or I’ll think about the blue stuffed dog with a pink ribbon collar that my dad got me for Valentine’s Day. My Barbie dream house, my Barbie airplane and cars. I even think about the tent I had in my room when I lived in Hawaii. All memories that include objects and not people. I may remember my dad making something, but sometimes I can’t even remember him being there. “Individuals who have difficult childhoods or who have experienced a trauma often report limited memories. From a psychoanalytic perspective one reason for this may be that the unconscious mind blocks these memories. The memories may be blocked because the individual is not psychologically ready to handle difficult events or experiences. Those memories may be slowly revealed to the individual over time, when they are psychologically able to handle them.

What an individual cannot remember consciously sometimes is revealed to them through dreams. Dreams are produced by the unconscious mind and can reveal important personal information.” I know nothing traumatic happened in my childhood to make me forget my past, so what was it? Sometimes I remember things and realize it’s not even me nor is it real. I wonder if I can remember things from a past life. I used to blame my short term memory on all the times my mom hit me. She liked to aim at the head with her fists. Occasionally I’ll get a slap and not a punch though. My mom was a bitch. I remember she hit my dad in the nose with a hammer. It was the night before or after my birthday party, possibly. Of course my dad had been drinking, but I’m still not sure what started the fight. I remember choking my sister, because she made me so fucking angry and the only reason I stopped is because she told me my dad would go to jail since I’m a child. I remember my dad and sister didn’t get along. They argued a lot. One time we were traveling, not sure where, but my dad pulled over the car and swung my sisters door open and got in her face yelling. My sister is a strong woman, she backs down from no man. I honestly don’t even know why they fought so much. What caused it? When did it begin? Researchers call the inability to remember childhood events, childhood amnesia. It’s normal of course and they feel that as individuals we are more likely to hold onto memories that were emotional. Most of these memories I don’t even remember how I felt. I can’t even picture myself being there. Sometimes it’s like I’m looking through the eyes of my younger self, but instead of being in the moment of the memory I am watching a screen. Im basically watching a movie of my life, but it only shows me certain parts. I’m unable to get the full story. Most times I see the actions, but I can’t hear the words. I remember painting rocks with Stevoni in Hawaii. Then we would lie down on our beach towels on the hill and wait for the ice cream truck. I remember trying to learn how to ride a bike and I kept hitting the wall of the house. I remember a house that everyone claimed was haunted because Medusa lived there. I remember Bryan. Yes, that was his name. It’s coming back to me. He was a little white boy with blonde hair, and I think green eyes. Maybe they were blue.. He was my best friend. We would have my dad blow up my inflatable pool and go swimming. I had a floatie that looked like a tire. There was a kid named Nick? Nick was older, maybe 13 or something. I remember he was really stupid. He tried to be cool and jump off the roof of the house and broke his arm. Idiot. Elenai, I don’t remember how to spell her name, but she stayed with us for a while. Although I can only picture one day with her because I have pictures. It’s weird, because she stayed with us for a few months. Why can I only picture Easter?


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