I’ve been seeing a therapist off and on over the past couple of years. My goal was to try to make sense of an unnamed trauma that has had a powerful influence on my state of mind and emotion for as far back as I can remember.
The work we did was forensic in nature, looking at what I do know and can remember of my life through the lens of various schools of psychology. It was attachment theory that led somewhere, as this revealed that I likely suffered extreme neglect during my first 3 years of life. I’m unable to verify this, however, because family who still live exist in a state of perpetual attempts to gaslight and deny.
Specter
She made me …
from filaments of stardust
mixed with the loess
of broken dreams
She bore me …
stark into the light of rage
and left me naked, crying
deep in an empty well
She gave me …
poison fruit from a withered tree
and i ate, having lost all hope
of anything more
She made me …
the imago of her darkest dread
an ever present specter looming
deep within her afterthought