Saturday, January 2, 2016

Memories...



     I have been procrastinating writing another entry....for many reasons. I started to have anxiety worrying that my extended family would read these and be shocked, perhaps angry for somewhat "shaming" the family by airing my "dirty laundry". There are so many things about my life that they have no clue about. 

     Then spirit told me that I HAVE to write, and I HAVE to be completely honest. This is how I will be able to help others. That worry about "shame" is what we are used to in society. Keep things hush hush, on the down low....brush things under the carpet. Pretend it never happened! 

     I am going to move past that fear, that worry because I am meant to give a voice to those who cannot speak. To those who hide their head in shame! To those who use addictions to cover up the tormenting pain they feel inside! It is about time to speak up and give a voice to those who are on the verge of death, just as I once was...

     So here we go......

     One of my earliest memories is when I was about 4 or 5 years old. It was Christmas day. We had just gotten dressed so that my mother could take us to my grandmother's place where all of her family would be for a very large party. I don't remember how my parents started to fight, I just remember the yelling and screaming. Then the next thing I remember is my dad choking my mother holding her up against the wall. This is where my older brother took me by the hand and told me that we should go up to our rooms. 

     Christmas was always so morbid around our home. Each year they would have extra fights and it was always about their families. There is not ONE Christmas that I remember being joyful and fun. It was always the same old thing. My mother would spend hours in the kitchen making a fantastic meal on Christmas Eve and we always went to midnight mass after that. At this point there was already tension building up between them. We would then be allowed to open one gift as we celebrated a European Christmas because of my father. We would go to bed with that excitement as any child would have on the eve of Christmas.....but it was the mornings that were dreadful. We would wake up so excited to open all the gifts under the tree. The problem was that you could feel the tension in the air...it was ice cold. They would not speak one word to each other. My brother and I would open our gifts in silence for fear of rocking the boat. 

     I truly hated the Christmas holidays, right up until I had my first son 8 years ago. I would always do my best to escape out of the country or work extended hours in retail so I could avoid any form of celebration. Having children changed that for me though. I now have that excitement in my life, it truly feels like a redo of my childhood holidays. 

     I did not have too many vivid memories of my childhood, I blocked out most of it until 5 years ago....but now it is like a puzzle to me. I have been piecing things together for the last couple of years. I have learned that trauma will do this, it IS possible to suppress painful memories and they can slowly come back through flashbacks....

     We moved around a lot, all in the same town but my father was always buying and selling property. I believe we moved at least 4 times by the time I was 6 years old. I have a few memories of those places. One of the homes (the one where I remember my mother being choked) was one of my favorites. We had an in ground pool. My father bought this very cool bubble that went over the whole thing. He had big blowers with heat to keep it all warm inside which allowed us to swim in the middle of a Canadian winter!! 

     The next place that we moved to from that home was to a property that had a couple of acres and a very large shop. My father was a very talented Auto body man who was known for his restoring work. He had a few men that worked for him and it became a very successful business. This property had a huge shop downstairs and an apartment upstairs in which we lived. My older brother and I thought it was a very cool place, there were so many interesting spots to explore! There were a few abandoned cars in the back of the property and my friends and I would spend hours in them pretending that we were adults driving. There were all kinds of offices and little supply rooms that I would spend time in. I can still remember the smell of the fresh spray paint. It was in this place that I remember quite a few disturbing memories...

     I think I am going to pause for today and take a good break. When I come back and write again, I will explain some of those memories to you all.....

Sending you lots of LOVE AND LIGHT...until next time...
Karina
xoxo