I See Childhood


Bathwater

Bathwater

In this post, I talk about a popular theme developing each week as I sit on my therapist’s couch. Bathing. In Intrusive Thoughts; Mom’s Voice I say “I see childhood.” In this post I’m briefly able to describe the flashback…

I look at the pink bath towel as I wipe my hairy adult legs. I study crooked six-month old teal nail polish and the green veins on top of my feet. As I stand up, the bubble-gum pink towel freezes me. Flash. It’s bath time.

Just outside the bathroom door, mom turns, rests her hand against the wall. “I’ll be watchin YOU. So, better dry right.”

I scream until I think I’ll go mad. I hate it. Hate having to tell her I’m done so she can watch me dry off. Sometimes I scream so hard, my face flushes fire-engine red and all I hear is the sharp buzz in my ears.

Thump! Thump!

I stop and listen to the sound.

It is my heart beating in my ears. I feel the red gooey heart frantically pumping blood. I see it. I’m in a rage. I cry so often that my throat is sometimes sore and a sense of exhaustion tugs at my whole being. Even my legs feel heavy.

4 thoughts on “I See Childhood

  1. mandy smith says:

    This is so hard to read, bdl. But I’m glad you’re able to write it, paint it, talk to your therapist about it. ♥

  2. Wow. And good for you, and took it on with those wonderful ways of caring for the body and mind. You took ownership of yourself instead of relying on drugs.

    Xx
    Diana

  3. bdlheart says:

    Thank you! Writing and creating are better than any drug or alcohol. I’m thankful I’ve been able to use my energy to rebuild instead of engage in self-destruction. Glad I caught myself before I lost myself. Hugs

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