01.10.22 my moms playing those old serenades, like domingo nd carrillo, and she calls them sappy but.. hello? "i was born when i first met you" is so beautiful.. imagine loving someone that powerfully.. idk.. maybe i am just sappy lol this week hasn't been fun. Jefe's causing issues and it might go to court, idk. mom's talking with her lawyer about what can be done. i've been trying to pull on my old memories, but it's time consuming. i was up so late last night trying to find them and i did find things but idk how helpful they are. it just sets me on edge. it feels like i really have to immerse myself in how i lived at that time, my thought process, what i liked what i didnt like, and let my child self walk me through it all, till a point she'll walk me through the home life memories. idk.it was so normal then i didn't think they were important memories to be made. so when i'm asking her for these important memories, she can only give me so many that she herself saw as important. so to find those other memories i have to sift through all of her daily life, and its exhausting. but i'm realizing some things. i really had terrible insomnia as a kid, and slept like a feather. i was always on edge, i think. i had a specific amount of time i would wait before getting up at night, it felt like 2 hours, and i would do the same amount every night even though there wasn't a clock in my room. i would listen to jefe and mom getting ready through the walls and then after they went silent, i had to wait that amount bc thats when i knew they would be deep enough asleep to not hear me. it took me hours to fall asleep at night even if i did sneak out. i would watch naruto on my ipad and sing myself to sleep, or do a little movie with my fingers, or just hold my breath until i passed out. people would hit my feet at night all the time, like every night mom or Jefe would hit my feet, ig i was a pretty big brat. my brother would spend a lot of time with me. we would get ready in the bathroom together, brush our teeth together, and i didnt think much of it then, bc there was only one bathroom so of course we would share, but i was just starting middle school and he was in his final year of high school and knowing that now makes me feel very tender. ;)idk. going into these memories has been difficult though. i've tried to keep my every day thoughts and the memories separate, bc sometimes they can just come through randomly and some are upsetting, but idk. i try to keep myself in a house, with the basement being a large, unsorted library that i need to catalogue, with a door leading into that i can lock. and i locked the door on the way out last night when i was too tired to keep digging, but i dont know if my brain is really accepting the visual. right now by writing this i blurred the lines, but that was more reading through a catalogue of books i'd already sorted and labeled rather than going into the big pile in the back, or the dusty books in the old sections. its like a big twisty library with everything out of order, sometimes the memories jump around and i have to sort them after the dive into their chronological order. its also like a cranberry bog. the field is flooded and the cranberries are floating to the top and i'm skimming through them, not sure when they were planted, how ripe they are, what flavor they are, and sometimes i find a special black cranberry that's extremely bitter and sour tasting, but its important. and so after the dive i take the big sheet of skimmed cranberries to the pantry where i sort and label them into their preserve jars. and then i go up the ladder to the main floor of the house and lock the flap door. idk. i'm gonna try my visual again and hopefully i can get the lock firmly in place in my brain so that way i dont have to have those memories come as intrusive thoughts. its weird. and i hope its worth it. i just have a very sinking suspicion my testimony is going to be very important and that i'll need these memories available on command. whatever. signing off.
on love -- diary 6
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