Tricia


I’m 4 years old standing just outside the sandbox, other children are playing. I’m watching there interactions but feel so much outside of it. I don’t relate, I’m already feeling an aloneness that will travel with me my entire existence. Where does this come from? Was I born into this world to feel the emptiness or to transform it? Am I chemically disabled, spiritually disabled, or am I perfectly broken? The little “I” consumes my thoughts and feelings, I become them. I am entrenched in my ego- my personal identity is a problem solver, controller and judgment setter. I am somehow unaware how to resolve my own issues despite the constant “help” I give others.

Fear is the neutral setting, my work is to manage a level of peace through out the day as to not completely loose my sense of being grounded. Left to my own devices I would be creating stories and dramas, most of which will never happen, some may and those are the ones I remember. It’s the what if’s that hold me hostage.

At 10 I write a suicide note because I had a double chin. My aunt, an aspiring model had a tri fold mirror that allowed me to observe the puffy fat from all angles; I wasn’t pretty and because of that I didn’t belong on this planet.

As an adult I understand my brain was effected by growing up in an alcoholic household, diagnosis C-PTSD.