Shadowless Joy – I overcome an abusive childhood by LuRain Penny

 

My friends,

I was born in Shadowless Joy.

I danced out of the womb.

When they pulled me into the World and slapped my butt to get me breathing – I burst out laughing.

From the get I could see all the molecules twinkling.

My first memory is standing up in my rickety crib watching my Mama and Granma arguing.

I stretched my leg out through the bars spreading my toes as wide as possible and said in a loud voice in my mind -

“Look what I can do!”

I weren’t more than a year I’m sure, but the words came natural and in a whole sentence even before I could say them.

I remember vividly.

So proud.

They didn’t notice.

*

The first time my Mama hit me in the head was not long after.

She smacked her hard fist against my baby ear.

To this day I have little hearing there.

I had never cried until then, my Mama later told me.

It creeped her out.

She wanted to teach me life was pain.

So she did.

What a shock it must have been; that severing of the umbilical a second time.

My joy dissolved in a flood of guilt and shame.

My light filled with shadows.

*

My Mama was an accidental parent - she was not ready or willing to assume no responsibility for a young ‘un.

She used to say, “I hate kids.”

And she meant it.

Fortunately, she neglected me mostly, always off living her sorry ass existence, doing her best to forget.

That left me to the tender mercies of my Granma Pen who was a more formidable and ferocious woman by far.

Granma Pen was strict Catholic of the sinner be damned school of thinking.

She believed the punishment should fit the crime.

So when she found me playing with matches as children do, she burned every one of my fingers.

If I talked back or was ‘mouthy’ as she put it – I got it scrubbed out with a brush.

She had two favorite implements – a razor strap and the rose switch.

The first belonged to my Grandpa Lucky, he died before I was born.

It was an inch thick and had a metal clasp at the end.

My grandmother beat me repeatedly with this, using the metal end against my skin.

If I was very bad, she took me to the park around the corner.

There was rose bushes growing there.

I had to pick my own length of stalk, but she had final approval.

If it didn’t have enough thorns on it, I had to chose again.

She’d strip all the leaves off , bend it a few times to get it limbered up -

then she whip the flesh off of my legs till I couldn’t barely walk.

One time, she yanked my underpants down and scratched a line down my spine to my bottom with the tip of a wire hanger.

I never did know why I deserved that.

*

When I was sent to live with Ms.Wheater all such punishment stopped.

Damage already done.

You see, since it all begun those two women said I was worthless, the worst person in the world, that I would end up in jail, or Hell.

They screamed I had no talent, I was ugly, nobody liked me and on and on.

Scientists have discovered that those persons who are beaten and told things when it going on, actually suffer more destruction to their DNA  than those who are physically tortured alone.

By the time I was knee high to a grasshopper, I hated myself.

I bent myself on self destruction and pretty much went that way from there.

After all, I didn’t deserve to live.

*

I became an alcoholic the first time I tasted likker.

Not only was it inherited biology, but I at once grasped the comfort of Oblivion.

Unfortunately, from the first sip to Oblivion is a long trip, involving stupid, risky things that one inevitably feels deep black guilt over when sober.

Only way out is to go back to Oblivion fast.

The cycle repeats until the body, spirit and mind are totally confused and wore out, just hanging on to Reality by the thinnest thread.

I don’t want to get into the terrible things I done to myself.

Suffice to say – it would curl your hairs.

I lucky to be here.

*

Now I an old woman. 

Still in active healing over what happened to me to make me the way I became.

But – and this is the most important thing – I love who I am.

I have forgiven myself for my past and forgiven those who trespassed against me.

I changed my behaviour, my attitude, and I believe, my very DNA.

How did this happen?

First, as it turns out, I have a tenacious Will. It kept me alive where others would have perished.

Something in me refused to believe I couldn’t get better no matter how bad I got.

Secondly, I was gifted with an experience I call religious, but since it was drug induced that might be stretching it.

I went past Oblivion to the Universe.

I come to understand the Nature of Things.

I realized nothing ever dies just changes into something else, that everything is moving, that it all Energy.

I saw the molecules dancing again.

 Shadowless Joy.

*

It ain’t easy to recover from vicissitudes. Most folks are pretty much in a mangled state their whole lives.

We taught to hide what we feeling and so nobody knows nothing is wrong, until your neighbor walks into the local church and shoots the pastor dead.

If you have suffered like I did, you must believe these things to get well:

1.

Weren’t your fault.

Stop blaming yourself for everything that goes awry around you.

It is the damage that makes you fret and over react to stress.

It can be repaired.

It is difficult but not impossible.

2.

You deserve better than to carry guilt and shame.

You were a victim then but you don’t have to be no more.

3.

Don’t treat anything else the way you was treated.

Stop continuing to suffer by ending the cycle.

If you abusing your kids, animals or co-workers, face your behaviour.

Get help.

4.

Medicating with alcohol will not solve your pain.

It is a very unpredictable drug. It can make you merry one minute and a blackgard the next.

All drugs, even the prescription ones, only mask your issues.

Eventually you must address them straight and sober or you’ll never be free.

You may find, like I did, that the substance is not the problem.

It is the mental emotional illness that making you find solace there.

If you get that sorted, you may be able to imbibe socially without fear of losing control.

5.

Trust is possible.

Surround yourself with loving, caring creatures.

Even if you can find only one.

Extricate from all those who belittle or degrade you.

Cut out everything that does not support your best interests, be it habits or people.

6.

You the only one who can truly heal your wounds.

Treat yourself as if you are the physician and the patient.

Step outside your actions and thoughts.

Observe them.

Don’t recriminate, re-educate.

Sorry don’t mean nothing if the behaviour never change.

You can heal.

You must believe that with your whole heart.

7.

You have the right to Shadowless Joy.

It was given to you at birth.

Reclaim it.

*

I truly hope I have helped anyone struggling out there with circumstances I know only too well.

If you have questions or suggestions that may move this forward to others, don’t hesitate to let me know.

We’ll pass it around.

Bless you, my sweethearts.

If you don’t mind a gooey old lady kiss – feel mine on your cheek.

Love,

LuRain

x

 

 

-lp(c)09-