Back to My Core

Ah shit, where do I want to start this one? I’m going to be very naughty. I’m jumping into my time ship and rolling back the clock. I’m going back to the past to have a chat with a little girl.

I keep getting told to let go of the past, to stop looking back, to stop focusing on it. I think that’s wrong. At least it’s a misunderstanding of why I look back. Or maybe they feel threatened by my searching in the past. Whatever it is, this is what has worked for me.

I look back to find the scars that need healing. I look back for myself, not to find shit to bring back with me and smear all over my future. I look back to bring understanding and love to the child I left behind there. I’m in the business of loving and growing the child I was.

There is a lot I want to tell her. Most of it, she already knew but kept forgetting as she got lost along the way.

There is no doubt that I’m the child of flawed, damaged and hurting human beings. I have no doubts that my father was a narcissist and that my mother shared some traits of narcissism as well. I know my mother was a product of childhood sexual abuse, dysfunctional family and a good chance a daughter of a narcissist as well. Out of my two parents, there was only one who believed in change, my mother. She had hope and it was this single element she passed on to me. I believe this alone has made all the difference in my life; hope for positive change, to always be growing, to stand when one has fallen, to keep going no matter the odds.

I can trot out various clinical terms to address my condition but what’s the point? Labeling it only helps explain it and lets me know I’m not the only one to go through this. I’m more interested it fixing it, not with band-aids but with lasting positive change.

wee wee wee Let’s slide back into time, all the way to when I was six months old. Yes, I have a single memory at six months. It’s only identified as six months because of a long conversation with my father in which he was able to identify the home I was in from my memory.

Kurcha kurcha did the spring clank, turning it’s handle as I rock in the swing. I’m looking up watching the handle and the sound, staring at it for a long time. It’s remarkable. It’s the only sound to be heard. The light coming in is warm, the colors of the room are soft. I’m comfortable and yet not. But it’s often like this, the kurcha kurcha kurcha rocking me, lulling the cries from me. I’m alone.

Just a serious of complex emotions, that now I can put into words. I was utterly Alone. No expectations forth coming, just the awareness of how alone I was. Where was mom?

I’ve wondered this many times. I don’t have many memories of mom before I was four. There are a few but mostly it’s other people, other family. I don’t recall a caregiver. When I look back, I kinda feel like I sprung up like a fully formed adult in a child’s body. How is that possible?

I do wonder how much I was neglected as an infant. Even my mom recorded that I slept through the night and every night thereafter from the first day home from the hospital. I’ve got two kids and they have never slept through the night, at least not till after they were six months old. My kids have been demanding. They want food, a clean hinny, to be held, to be cooed at, to explore, to hear my voice, they want to be a part of it all and then they sleep just to wake and do it all over again. How could I have been so different?

What if I was the same, wanting that interaction and found it not forthcoming? What would happen to that infant? Is that what happened to me?

I need to cuddle up and pull the me that I was out of the swing and cuddle her close and tell her, she’ll never be alone and that she’s loved.


About Isabella LeCour

She is nothing more than the collections of thoughts placed into the virtual worlds. She is a poet, a mother, a lover, many things to different people. But mostly, she is nothing but smoke and mirrors - some ethereal thing that blinks in an out of existence.
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6 Responses to Back to My Core

  1. Stormwise says:

    Wow, you really know how to hunt around in your memories! I understand why some might say it’s not productive to root around in your past – we best prevent stumbling when our eyes point in the same direction we are heading in – but at the same time, some of the answers we need to move forward are in our past. We actually have a few things in common here. I also have a few memories from that age, one of which is sitting in a high chair. The other is a detailed map of the house I lived in back then (I have a problem remembering how old I am most of the time; but have a photographic memory for places I’ve been to). I also slept through the night starting my first day out of the hospital – I also never cried unless I was really sick. Narcissism is in my family; and I have experience with abuse of the emotional, physical and sexual varieties. I didn’t develop DID; but I did fragment. I also had a raging bipolar disorder of the nasty kind for a long while, with PTSD, and homophobia as a teenager.

    Hope is a smart thing to hold onto; and you’ve held on to it for a good reason 🙂

    • Memory hunting is a practice. I use a combo of self guide hypnosis and lucid dreaming. I stumbled upon it because I had to repair nightmares that were memory based. I too remember every home I’ve lived in. Thankful that was confirmed accurate. Yeah, we do have a lot in common. Hope and love, but mostly hope for the clouds to part and the sun to shine. I can’t give up. There is too much at stake and I’ve always known that. 🙂

      • Stormwise says:

        Lucid dreaming is another thing we have in common … but with hypnosis I have had some difficulties. Meditation I can handle without a problem, as well as achieving altered states of consciousness (journeying, for example); but when it gets to the concept of hypnosis, I usually block.

        Here is something you might find helpful on those days when it seems like the storm clouds won’t break … a little secret of mine is that I also enjoy the Sun, despite my affinity for / kinship with storms; but then storms enjoy the Sun as well, or else they wouldn’t try to hog up the view so much 😉

      • Awe, that is brilliant. You know, without the sun, storms wouldn’t have the strength to rage. It gives me giggles to think of sunlight dancing on cloud tops.

        But to hypnosis, yeah it’s difficult. I have to craft my own inductions and all otherwise I snap out of it. I notice it’s use far more often in odd places. But being open to it, I have to guard it from now on. So it has it’s pros and cons.

      • Stormwise says:

        Glad you liked the poem 🙂 As for hypnosis, by all theories, I should be open to it. Out of curiosity, how did you discover that you needed to create your own inductions? And, wouldn’t it be possible to plant a suggestion that would make guarding against intrusions from the outside of your head a little easier?

      • I couldn’t relax first off. Second part was the uncontrolled switching and internal laughter going on. Laughter has great power to break hypnosis. I’m sure that points to all my trust issues. grins Yes, it does make planting suggestions from outside sources difficult when it has too go though the process. I’ve got a process that all things go though. It’s not so much a suggestion beyond it’s not allowed to skip it.

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