My mother looked at me once with a frown and said, “you were born in a flash, but somethin’ came with you. Or someone”.
That was it, she didn’t care to elaborate and I didn’t query the statement.
I’d always known this, but her saying it triggered a memory. There was that name that popped into my head from outa nowhere. I’m sitting, minding my own business, and it shows up. ‘Jonny.’
I’m thinking, ‘Jonny? Who the fuck is Jonny?’
A voice inside my head says, ‘You know Jonny, he’s from before you were born.’
I only hope he’s a guide, or a guardian of some sort. But I bet Jonny is or was no angel. Let’s just say if he is a pal, he’s doing an awful job of it, considering the shit that rolled down in THIS lifetime.
And yeah, kids, even babies, do get depressed.
My depression set in around the time I was born. It eased off a few years while I was busy sorting out my surroundings - at puberty it came back in spades.
It’s not fair to blame the progenitors for ALL the issues that occurred.
Just some
Did they get who or what I was? Nope.
Did they give me all the love and attention I craved? Nope.
Were they a couple of assholes? (Do you know anyone who isnt?)
Did they cause my deep-seated soul trauma? No, not really.
My guess is we don’t start out fresh. Many of us have been around the block a few times. In my case, I knew more than a kid has a right to. The moment my mother pushed me out into the world - a sticky mess of blood and gloop, a voice said, ‘uh-oh.’
The only person I trust quals one. My therapist. One and only who gets it. No gog-eye disbelief, no derisory comments.
My situation might strike a chord with you, but if not, well, what can I say, skip to maloo my darlin’.
Laters.