Bringing Me Home

I couldn’t sleep.

I’d already been awake for a an hour or so when I decided to get up and go downstairs.  I sat on the couch a blanket wrapped around me and closed my eyes. I paid attention to my breath and let my thoughts come and go.

Eventually I came to know that it was time to visit myself as a child.

It’s something I’ve done before.  I close my eyes and picture a certain disturbing situation I remember from my childhood. I go back to that time as I am now and take my child-self away with me.

A few weeks ago I experienced a trigger of a trauma that I had blocked from my consciousness.  I still don’t have a clear memory what happened.   I may never know exactly what happened.  What I do know is how it has effected me in these past weeks.  It’s as if my body is reacting to the original trauma.

I’ve been working with my therapist and Jon has been helpful and understanding. I’m learning more about myself and healing everyday.

Early this morning, while it was still dark out, I closed my eyes and in my mind I went to the room I slept in as a child.

I saw myself there at two different ages.  A baby version of me was in her crib and an older me, maybe five or six was in her bed.

I went the bed and got in next to me.  I held the child close to me and told her not to be afraid.  That she had done nothing wrong and asked her if she wanted to come with me.  She did, so I took her hand and we went to the crib where I picked up the baby that was also me.

I opened the window and cut the screen with my blue mat knife.  The six year old me, pulled the white chair from the desk over to the window so we could climb out of it.  I went first with the baby in my arms then  gave five year old me my hand to help her out.

It was dark outside, but I could still see the pink tassel-like flowers of the mimosa tree outside my bedroom window.  Then I saw the little concrete donkey pulling the cart and led by a boy in a red hat.  It big enough for a five year old to sit on, but I never did.  It was my grandmothers statue and she wouldn’t allow it.

Then, suddenly, the donkey was no longer a statue, but our donkey Fanny.  And when I blinked there was Lulu beside her.  Strung between them was a kind of hammock seat.

We got in.

I held the baby-me on my lap and put my arm around five year old me.   Fanny and Lulu flew over the chainlink fence, over the trees and houses and into the night sky.

I saw the parkways I used to drive, below us.  The Southern State, the Cross Island, the Whitestone bridge and the Taconic.  Then we were flying over Route 22 and soon we landed at the farm.

Fanny and Lulu were back in the barnyard and I stood between the barn and the apple tree holding the hand of five year old me, with baby me in the other arm.

I told them we were safe now and would all live here together.  I told them about Jon, that he was a good man they could trust.  And in my mind I saw the three of us walking through the woods and taking care of the animals together.

When I opened my eyes I felt steady,  grounded, more like myself then I have in weeks.

I made myself a cup of hot chocolate put on my boots, got Fate and went outside.

It was overcast and dark, but soon my eyes adjusted.  I sat on the stone wall by the dahlia garden and as I sipped my chocolate, the moon like a cradle blinked through the clouds.  A streak of stars appeared above the house as the sky cleared.

I went into the barnyard, the animals like shadows, and  stood between Fanny and Lulu scratching their ears.  I heard a small single meow from Zip who rubbed up against my leg.

Then I led the donkeys and sheep into the pasture.

We stayed for a while, Fate circling the sheep in the dark,  Zip running thought the tall grasses, the sheep and donkeys grazing,  all to the music of tree frogs and Katydids.