EXTREME TRAUMA

I picked up my first GI-Joe when I was 9 years old,, I can remember distinctly because of the boy who I beat up and took it from, he was in the playground on the jumbo Jim, I'm sure he was acting out some imaginary war where his GI-Joe was the hero and I scurried my way over to to place where he, had a primitive fort set up and, that's where it all began, I shouted out to him as if I already knew how war should be fought, "you need to build a mote around your fort dummy" he wasn't paying me a bit of attention, ignoring me as if I was just a another part of the scenery, I felt my emotions creep up on me, as I did not like to be ignored, where this unseemly trait came from, I had know Idea, oh yea, I guess I could blame my mom for always shouting at my dad as he lounge in his chair with a beer, intently watching whatever sporting event that happened to be the flavor that week. I can once recall my mother knocking the beer can out of my dads hands because he didn't respond to her, not the only time she has done such a thing, my dad was semi passive and was raised to never lay a hand on a woman so he never did a thing about it, I guess I was left with the impression that at least if you don't get what you want, you can sure make someone pay attention to you by smacking them around, I liked the feeling I got when he whimpered and ran off to get some adult who later come over and chastise me the way I never got at home.

This was the moment when I realized the direction I was headed was all to different from the rest of the girls in my peer group I had short hair because my mother was to lazy fix it everyday so usually I wore a head bang with short bangs. That lady in fact help to shine a light on the masculinity that pulsated through my my veins, she said to me that little boys she act like little boys and, little girls should like act like little girls, why are you acting like a little boy" she asked? That sentence started me on a endless mind quest that would challenged me for the rest of my adolescent years.

No one ever explained to me anything about what boys are supposed to be like or what girls are supposed to be like, this was a time like 2010 and it seemed like people in society are jockeying for position, everyone trying to stake out their claim, gun rights, immigration, civil rights, and, no other where but, on prime time television where to woman kissing, right there for all the world to see, this was my reality and, I didn't know anything to be wrong with it until,  I came home one day from school and told my mommy I wanted to join the boy scouts and, that was how I ended up with extreme trauma.

CONCIOUSNESS

I thought about this many many times and although I can barely recall that moment when I became aware of myself, in the womb encased inside some flexible barrier, constricted, confined but well nourished, I can remember swimming in a pool of delightfully warm fluids, I wanted out as I knew there was something more beyond the darkness. I was seeing myself walking around in a different place, a place that would later become all to confusing a place to be, and what choice would I have but to run away and then, confront the demons.

As It was, I already developed and, was suffering from a sense of anxiety about being trapped in the wrong skin my parents where to caught up in their own sense of self to be concerned what a little 8 yr old was going through, I felt as through I had been in a time warp only to have the same sequence of events occur over and over again, trapped like when inside that bubble in my mothers womb, I wanted out!

It was time to go to grandmas house, me my younger sister Nina, she was 5 and, older brother Roderick, he was 12, and thought he was the boss of us. We always loved the times we would go to grandmas house, she lived in the country seemed a world all to itself, green pastures, she had cattle grazing, horses 4 or five cats, old Musket the basset hound, and gravy-train, my daddy named the Rottweiler after the food he likes so much and, she had a whole slew of native species of plants and animals, I would love to climb the tall sugar maple trees that grandma would make the best maple syrup for those what I thought was 2 pound pancakes she would make, with all that butter dripping off the side and a little homemade whipped creme, it was delicious, Nina like dipping her nose in the whipped creme and rubbing her fingers in it and up in her nose, then she would eat what I teased her about what I called whipped buggers.