TW - Obesity
I was 10 years old when my mother gave birth to her 11th child in 1964. Proof unavailable, but I do believe that event was within the period of years which induced my Trauma Induced Amnesia. Proof unavailable. Popular theory within my pro parade has it that my TIA was more habit than event. The yaddahs of these blahs crossed ALLOT of miles, tears and years. It remains a challenge for me to retrieve any detail whatsoever of these years without losing myself in a kaleidoscope of chaotic and unidentifiable sensory inputs from half a century past, give or take a decade.
Was my mother already morbidly obese in 1964? My father loved telling the boisterous tales of her gaining mightily with her first pregnancy and never having the time to lose it in the 1.5 year average between there and the next 10 pregnancies. My mother was often frighteningly quiet when my father's rich tenor fell into his storytelling tones. She wasnae a talkative woman in her most social of moods. Her more natural social gift was providing the platform from which the storyteller could launch their poetic flight. This she could do as easily as pushing over a random boulder to provide a stage and a gentle nudge for the first storyteller. She loved stories, whether spoken or sung. When her disapproval was stirring, it radiated with the silent intensity of gathering storm clouds.
Before I began to take my amnesia therapy seriously in the mid to late 80's, I loved big people with a magnetic attraction. I attributed it to the attraction of opposites. Underweight was a major health issue for me and my attraction to the problems of overweight seemed as natural an attraction as Life ever created. Over the course of therapy, obesity became a gnarly psych trigger for me. Not as gnarly as electric lights (child pornography sets) but? ? ? Have I defused my electric light trigger far enough for a new star to emerge?
Processing. . . Easy does it. . . Acceptance preceeds understanding. . .
Replies
Good morning Arfie.
Gentle hug Arf while you're processing....xo
Hugs and support Arfie as you sort through this. Please be gentle. It’s a lesson I’ve been learning I need to do as I explore the new surfacing memories of my sister and her abuse. I’ve already had several bad falls down the PTSD rabbit hole, chasing down those memories and trying to make sense of them. As of yet, I still have no idea why they keep surfacing, why they seem to come as random flashbacks for no apparent reason without provocation or triggers. But that’s my mystery to sort.
Hugs & love Arfie!
triple hugs of support~
Yes, Mighty River, gentleness is essential. In my personal herstory, forcing a memory to emerge is a sure ticket to self-gaslighting my way to false memories. Somewhere in the last decade or so, I have come to believe that a memory function is simply a memory function. The good and bad of the memory is a judgement. Like the mechanical hard drives in our computers, our bio hard drives can't tell porn from preach.
That doesn't explain why we have memory functions, but? ? ? Different thread. . .
In a book I read and still ocassinally paw through randomly, it commented on immortality and how if we ever achieved immortality we’d crave amnesia because we consist only of our memories. As my head seems to be swelling from memories best forgotten, I’m all for amnesia at this point.!
My mother was a forgive and forget disciple. I took that deep philosophy so far to heart that I came of age with no childhood memories, whatsoever. Well I took half of her philosophy to heart, at least. Who needs to forgive what can be forgotten? Many years of mind-ripping therapy later, I now believe the amnesia is worse. Far worse. I now hold forgetting as a fool's wish to do it all again.