Category Archives: Suppressed Memories

How We Spent Our Childhood Nights…

Memories, from, the GREAT BEYOND here…

How we spent our childhood nights, remember?  Oh yeah, we’d spent our childhood nights, waiting, endlessly, for our parents, to come and kiss us goodnight, but, they NEVER did, we were the ones, to give them the kisses and the hugs, remember that?  How we spent our childhood nights, waiting, for our parents, to read us those bedtime stories, but, we’d waited, and waited, and, where the HELL were they?  In the living room, arguing, about HIS infidelity toward her, and, they both thought, that we were asleep too, but, we weren’t, instead, we’d pulled, the covers UP over our young heads, and just, sobbed, gently, because we’re afraid, of our family, falling apart.

How we spent our childhood nights, fight hard, to keep those monsters underneath our beds, and inside our closets, LOCKED up, so they won’t come out, and SCARE the SHIT out of us, and, where the FUCK (and no, do NOT pardon me here!!!!) WERE those people who called themselves OUR “parents”???  Too busy, fighting about HIS infidelities toward her, that we got totally, IGNORED, and, we were, taken, by those god DAMN, scary-as-HELL monsters already!

How we spent our childhood nights, nobody knows, because, we’d all, worked too hard, to BLOCK those, long-ago memories, OUT of our god DAMN freakin’ minds, thinking, that if we don’t acknowledge what happened to us when we were younger, those EVIL things that actually happened, really didn’t happen, but, ARE you sure, that they NEVER happened?  Are you FUCKING shitting me here!!!

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Filed under Being Alone, Being Exposed, Carelessness of Adults, Childhood, Cost of Living, Early Exposures, Innocence Lost, Suppressed Memories

The Nightmares Followed, Closely Behind Her

The nightmares followed, closely behind her, and, no matter how hard she’d tried, she just, couldn’t outrun them…

Started way back in her childhood days, after her daddy “made” her into his “special pal”, she’d been having these nightmares, but, she couldn’t tell mama, because she didn’t want to cause her any MORE trouble, because her mama was having marital difficulties with her daddy, and soon, she WILL be forced, to CHOOSE sides!

The nightmares followed, closely behind her, she thought she’d gotten rid of them, by outgrowing them up, but, she was mistaken, because the nightmares grew, just as she’d done, and now, they’d become, even LARGER, even MORE fierce, more gnawing on her mind and heart.

The nightmares followed, closely behind her, and, no matter how hard she’d run, she couldn’t escape them, and, all she could do, was R-U-N!!!  The nightmares followed, closely behind her, until the moment she’d swallowed her last dying breath, then, she’s released, from the haunting of her nightmares, while her families cried their eyes out, because she’d died, her spirit felt more at peace than ever………

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Filed under Abuse, Childhood, Cost of Living, Lives Lost, Properties of Life, Suppressed Memories

Secrets & Desires

Translated…

I saw in the movie, that the female lead’s bed was close to the window, and the headboard was right up against the window.  She woke in the sun, her face and pillow was bathed, by the warm sunshine.  After she woke, she’d flipped over onto her stomach, looked out the window.

I’d always wanted a bed like that.  At a certain time, like when I’m about to drift off to sleep, or right before I wake, when I’m in-between, a bed that faces out the window, without the barriers with the outside world, so very close, like I’m afloat, on top of the world.

That sort of a slumber, must be guarded, by endless number of ghosts, and spirits, I suppose!

In the movie, the female lead had an unguarded window like that, so, later on, a certain man came in through the window, gotten onto her bed, and raped her.  The movie didn’t show if she’d still slept on that same bed or not.  Before she was raped on that bed, the bed was, glorious: with the satin pillows, with the flowery seams decorating it.  The satin drapes of the window would caress the female lead as she slept.  The moonlight shined down on her face.  After she was raped, her face was hovered over by the shadows, the man stood by the window, looking down at, the woman’s face, still, as the top of a lake, then, he dove in.

The older movies were not as violent as they are now, and, the scary movies had that mysteriousness about them, and it showed NO violence, but instead, desires.  William Wyler turned John Fowles’s book, into, “The Collector”.  The man kidnapped a female college student, locked her up inside his home, until she died.  Afterwards, he went looking, for his next victim.

The male lead, Terrence Stamp is good looking and gloomy.  When I saw the film at age fifteen, it wasn’t at all, scary, or dangerous, instead, I felt more romantic about it, as if, controlling someone else is, the best way to show love.  But, the ladies from the older days all believed, that control and force are masculine characteristics.

At age eighteen, the gas can company my family owned and operated set up shop at another district, I was placed in charge of the new shop, lived on the floor above the shop.  It was, a small, five-story apartment, my room was on the second floor, with the wooden panels separating the rooms, there was a ten centimeter space from the floor to the floorboards.  Because of how hot the weather got, I’d liked sleeping on the marble floor.  The bathroom was right outside my bedroom, sometimes, after I’d showered, if there was no one around, I’d wrapped a towel around myself, and walked back into my bedroom, then, placed the towel onto the floor, turned on the fan, and start, sleeping.

One day, when I woke, I was looking into the crease of the floor boards.  I saw, that right outside the stair cases, there were, a pair of legs, standing there.  And that, was when I’d realized, that someone had been, watching me.

It was such a scary feeling, I’d quickly gotten back up, hid in the corner.  A little afterwards, I’d took a peek into the cracks on the floor board, the feet were gone.  Later on, I’d pushed the door out; there were, abnormalities that came at me, very strong, a hot and sticky kind of smell came from the bathroom.

Secrets are always connected with desires.  That, I’d come, to understand, many years afterwards.

And so, this, is precisely WHY, you shouldn’t sleep naked, EVEN IF you feel that you’re in the comfort of your own home, that nobody can get in, because, someone will, and, you’d end up, getting screwed, like that saying of how a woman who sleeps in the buff can turn a burglar into a rapist?

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Filed under Abusing Someone's Trust, Awareness, Cause & Effect, Cost of Living, Early Exposures, Innocence Lost, Lessons, Nowhere Is Safe, Observations, Story-Telling, Suppressed Memories

Remembering Those Childhood Days???

Remembering those childhood days???  You’d asked me, NO, I said!  But, but, but we did have a wonderful time, you and I, whilst you were, growing up, didn’t we?  Nope!  That, was NOT how I remembered my childhood as!

Remembering those childhood days???  Of course, how can I forget, that, was when I’d lost my childhood innocence, and, you just don’t forget that easily, NO matter how hard you’d worked to PUT all of that OUT of your minds, and, even IF you’d managed to successfully (that’s just what you think!!!) suppressed all of it, how can you be sure, that those memories won’t attack you, when you’re least expecting, because they WILL catch you OFF guard there!

Remembering those childhood memories, you’d better, because I will NOT allow you to, PUT me out, of your mind, and, as long as I’m still NOT yet taken care of, you will NOT rest easy, for I am that lost inner child, that you FAILED to take notice, the one you’d been ignorin’ your whole life, well guess what?  I’d had it, getting IGNORED and all of that, I will NOT stay silent again, and I’d like to see you TRY and MAKE me.

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Filed under Childhood, Coping Mechanisms, Cost of Living, Life, Properties of Life, Suppressed Memories

The Faces of Buried Memories

There are, so many different faces that buried, as memories, and, you just cannot hide from them, NO matter how hard you’d tried.  The faces of buried memories, they will, NOT stay buried for long, because, someone’s BOUND to find the truth, and, those faces that are buried as memories, they’ll all, get DUG up.

The faces of buried memories, do you see them now?  Are they, haunting you, even when you’re wide awake?  Do you EVER wonder, why it is, that you’re, seeing those faces, of the buried memories?  It’s because those faces of buried memories, well, they ain’t gonna stay buried for long, they will all, become those ghostly faces, that comes, right ‘round the hours of midnight, and, they will, haunt you, until you D-I-E.

The faces of buried memories, because you’d not say séances for those faces of those dead memories before you’d buried them, and, you didn’t give them ANY of the offerings they needed, that, is why, they will NOT rest easy.  Had you done as you were supposed to, paid your final respects, for those memories that are now, buried, then, maybe, just maybe, they’ll, leave you alone, but, you hadn’t, and so now, you WILL P-A-Y!

The faces of buried memories, they’d all come to me, haunt me, during the wee hours of the nights of my life, and, it’d gotten worse and worse, and, I just, feel, so, sleep, deprived, and, I just, can’t function normally, during, the daytime anymore…

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Filed under Life, Properties of Life, Story-Telling, Suppressed Memories, White Picket Fence

Watching My Past Unfold, Before My Eyes

All those moments, I’d forgotten about, all rushed BACK up to the surface, and, they’d escalated, became this HUGE tsunami wave, that came, crashing down on me…

Watching my past unfold before my eyes, it was, as if I’m merely an observer, to the atrocities that had happened to me, I’d tried to scream, but, no sound came from my mouth, I’d felt that hurt, that pain, that betrayal that was so deep once more.

Watching my past unfold before my eyes, I’d tried, to keep the perspectives of an outsider, someone who’s totally and completely, UNINVOLVED in the matters, but I just couldn’t, I’d felt that knife, cutting into my all over again.

Watching my past unfold before my eyes, all of a sudden, I’d found myself, in the midst of this raging storm, I’d screamed, HARD as I possibly could, but, the loudness of the bad weather, well, they’d drowned out my cries.

Watching my past unfold before my eyes, I’d weathered through all these horrible storms, and now, as the storms calmed back down, I can finally, go back the path where the storms came, and, start to, pick up all those broken pieces, hopefully, I could, piece everything back together, again………

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Filed under Awareness, Being Exposed, Cause & Effect, Downward Spiral, Healing Process, Innocence Lost, Lessons, Letting Go, Life, Loss, Moods, Emotions, & Feelings, Overcoming Obstacles, Philosophies of Life, Properties of Life, Re-Experiencing the Trauma, Socialization, Story-Telling, Suppressed Memories, Vicious Cycle

Finding Out the Truth Behind Your Death

You were taken from me, too quickly, you were, brutally murdered by someone, and because of how young I was, they’d never told me the reasons behind your death, and, I grew up, with this VITAL part of my own history, missing…

So, one day, I was, sorting through those old and dusty files stacked up, in the attic, and, I’d, tipped a box over, and, everything inside fell out.  Something caught my eyes, it was, a picture of you, in your younger years, about my age right now, you looked, different, I don’t know what about it, but, there’s just something UP with that photograph of you, and, I’d tried to ask dad about it, but, he’d just, shrugged it off.  And, the questions about you, I’d kept, all to myself.

Then, I’d gotten a call, from someone, who claimed that he knew you, at first, I didn’t pay it too much heed, as you were very, social, or so I’d been told, and a little on down the line, the person, who’d called me to tell me that he knew you, bumped into me one day, and, he recognized me right away, as your daughter, I don’t know how, because everybody told me, ever since my younger years, that I looked more like dad than you.

It was, through the conversation with this “stranger”, that I’d gotten to know you better, I’d learned about the kind of persons that you were, before you met dad, and learned about, how your marriage to him, changed you, and then, everything just, unfolded…

Finding out the truth behind your death, I had, and, at first, I just, couldn’t come to the acceptance, that you were actually, MURDERED by someone who’s closed to you, someone who’d VOWED to love you, and, it took me, a very long time, to finally let you go, completely.

Now I sit here, in this big old chair you once sat in with me, as I flipped through, those pages of yellowed photographs with you in them………

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Filed under Awareness, Cost of Living, Family Dynamics, Family Matters, Letting Go, Loss, Perspectives, Properties of Life, Socialization, Story-Telling, Suppressed Memories