Introducing Me...

Prologue
My therapist.....or was it psychiatrist....psychologist....the one who dispenses medicine.....well....the first words out of her mouth was, "What is the earliest memory you have in your life?"


Hm.....

Had to think on that one.....

I would have to say. I was living at Grandma's house. It was Christmas and I got my toy Kitchen set! I was so happy.

She then asked me. "What other memories surrounds that time? List the memories in order."

Well... it goes like this.

Christmas as a kid.
Kitchen toy set.
Learning to play clarinet.
My sweet 16.
Traveling with family.
Me sitting here today.

She looked sad and concerned. Then the sentence popped up.

"Your brain can't remember blah blah because your brain is trying to protect itself blah"

Well the is is new. No wonder why High school was a blur.

My brain. Shuts memories down due to trauma, to protect itself. Hm......

Before you read this. This book will get dark. This book will make you feel a certain way. On these days.....I need to get this out. So lets start at the beginning. And memory blanks are sure to happen.


Chapter 1
"Florida"
I remember always sticking to my biological brother. He was always making up games to play. We lived in a pink house. 8th ave north. I was ALWAYS in charge of caring for him. After school, I would use the key to unlock the door to let us in. Our foster Mom was a bus driver so we would do our chores before she came home. We'd play outside before dinner. A family lived next door and I would ALWAYS be jealous when I smelt their cooking. Mom was a good cook too don't get me wrong. (Sorry momma) I think at the time my foster sister lived with us at the time. I only have one memory of my foster brother at the time. (Playfully putting me up to the fan.) However I admired my sister like she was a queen. It was nice to sit in her room and watch TV. The best shows were Arthur and The Big Comfy Couch the at the time. I ate her goldfish crackers and she got mad. Now for some reason. We had a Lord Voldemort.....so to speak. His name was "G", mom's boyfriend at the time. He was an abusive prick. The only memory I have of him is that he called me into his room one day. Asked me to give mom a message. Being 8 at the time I didn't know. I went to the kitchen and gave mom the message. She broke down in tears and cried. That....was the last memory I have of him. He dissapeared. Like a ghost in existence. Like Microsoft word deleting a file. The only memory burned in my brain was making mom cry with my words. The inner guilt I hold to this very day.

Another memory was a beautiful cake mom made for a birthday. Was it for my birthday? My brother's birthday. We will never know. It was beautiful though. Another person in Florida was my foster cousin. We would hang out all the time. We would play, laugh, swim in the pool. She had a waterbed. We'd watch shows. She was older than me. She even showed me how to do "Grown up things" at the time...she called it cuddling...now that I am grown up. I call that "What is wrong with you???? What is wrong with us?!?!?!"