Dear anita,

I’m glad they did! You deserve it! Your kind words go a long way.

I like that analogy of the elevator. This morning after I had posted, I saw that analogy and tried to apply it to the mindfulness techniques you were writing about. I started with some guided meditation, and continued to shun and dismiss my imaginative thoughts from reality, as well as adding more embers to the flame.

Here is the retelling of the story I posted earlier, considering the sounds I hear and how my body feels, emotionally:

It’s almost like a dark flash. I was relaxed, poised in bed. Everything was comfortable, I was in a state of bliss and I was captured in sleep. My eyes opened, and I was confused. I saw the silhouette of my sisters face on top of mine, her hands grasping my shoulders, waking me up. ‘Wake up, wake up!’ I am four years old. She is eleven. We share a room, because I think she’s brave and she gives me courage. She is angry sometimes, and that makes me worried for her, but it’s funny. She protects me. Waking up, I remember being confused. Were we gonna sneak out of our room and play a game? Were we going to check out my brothers new computer, now that the others were all asleep? I was curious. I was excited. But, my body was still tired. It was dark, and I was sleepy. This is when I began to realise we weren’t the only ones awake. I could hear my brother, yelling. I could hear my father doing the same, and the sounds of metal things being thrown. Maybe just once or twice. I was worried, but I still felt safe. I was at home, and nothing can ever hurt me at home. I don’t remember exactly what happened after this. I just remember my sister holding my hand as we stand in the kitchen door. We walk in together, and another glimpse memory loss moment. Next, I am standing, just inside the kitchen. Our kitchen is pretty huge. My mum is by the sink, her hair is let down in a pony-tail. My sister is kneeling beside me, holding me with both her arms and sobbing. This makes me feel happy in a way, because now I am protecting her. It makes me feel like she needs me, and that she dragged me out of bed because she didn’t want to watch this alone. But she knew she had to. I am caressing her back with my left hand, tapping on her shoulder, ‘tap, tap, tap’ simultaneously muttering “it’s okay.” I look up, and my dad is standing away from my mum, facing the door to the hallway on the other side of the kitchen. The side that my sister and I didn’t come out of. That side connects to my brothers room. He is yelling, and watching him yell makes me flinch. It makes my heart race, and I begin to get scared. But, I have my sister so I know I’ll be okay. My brother walks out of the hallway, replying with more yelling. He is carrying his computer monitor. He throws it at my dad, but close enough for him to catch it. He didn’t get much distance, so it didn’t hurt him. I begin to get confused and even more scared and worried now. Why is he throwing his computer monitor at dad? He likes his computer, after all. My brother is yelling at him for a reason, and I can understand that it is justified. It is not out of pure anger or vengeance or teenage hormones or anything like that. I understood at that point in time, he had a very good reason (at least from his perspective) to do that, to throw things and to yell at dad and not feel guilty because he was doing it in front of us all. Mum didn’t even move, or say anything. I could tell he was protecting her like I was protecting my sister, or that’s how I felt. I was confused, I was scared and my feet were cold on that vinyl flooring in the middle of who knows what time it even was. That’s all I really remember accurately from that night, that and my sisters distinct cry with her husky voice and the stains on my shoulder from her tears. That’s one of the earliest memories I can recall, and I still don’t understand what happened that night. It’s like an unsolved mystery to me. I’ve never asked, but I think I have the courage to ask. I’m not afraid of asking, I just never thought about it before I guess.

Thank you for staying updated and encouraging me to share my story. I’ve never retold that to anyone (besides my partner I think), and I think that’s because I chose to keep it buried.

Thank you for your well wishes. I too hope you are keeping safe amongst everything that is happening globally at the moment, and wish you nothing but continuous health and prosperity.

All the best, always!

kiwiboy0897