maybe a primal

death in the birth canal, my sister is leaving,
i died, i slept, i died.
did I die? could I have died?
my mom says I almost died.
i remember hearing this as a kid. what was I feeling hearing this?
i was scared. i think so.
the snow here. triggers feelings of being
trapped, claustrophobia.
i go back to check my writing now. i am
concious of how badly i write. i'm bad, dirty, poeple will hate me,
i hurt, i don't feel nothing. i know i hurt , i don't feel it though.

snow, winter, trapped,
if it weren't for the monument i pass everyday i would find no
release. the metal monument of a little girl to remember a school
that burned down. she, the girl is
counting with her fingers. one day in my stress of having to trudge
through the snow... panic anxiety...i am trapped.
I Iook up from the snow and stress and someone has put
a scarf around the neck of the metal girl! i love it. i laugh
hard into the vast white snow. last night i had to pass
by it again and glimpsing in her direction someone's taken the
scarf, and a coffee cup is planted in her hand... how i love
is doing this! releiveing the winter and my horrible symptoms
of fear and distress.

i will be a part of this fun game i tell myself. i want to place a bible
in her hands in my mind. it makes me laugh. it gets me home.
i had panic and high anxiety in the school yard yesterday with the
kids. the snow, getting stuck in the deep snow, the kids are
triggers for me. they get stuck, they cry of being cold, they whine
too much, i can't concentrate, i feel worse, i have to be present for
them. i have to move out from the centre of the snowy yard. i go
and hold onto the fence, the kids are drivng me insane, this is too
strong. "Debbie do this, do that, Thoren hit me, i need to pee,
i'm cold, i don't know where my mittnes are, run fast, pull me
faster, faster."

stop stop stop... my mind is saying, my mother is so clear in my
head. right in the forefront. every way she would handle all of
this. i
don't want to be my mother... i am not my mother... my mother
would scream and yell, and hit and swear on us. curse and swear
... "jesus christ, you god damn youngsters, get out of my site, stop
whining, stop complaining, get the hell out of my sight.. screaming, "take your god d
stop mommy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

i feel sorry for my mom. i don't want to be my mom. i'm
happy for my human and real frustrations. i can't deal with
another moment of these kids needs. breathe, you are ok...
this is truly womb stuff, trapped in the womb, a breach baby,
trapped in there for 5 hours. after your sister Donna gets out,
leaves you, abandons you. i'm alone, didn't breathe when i was
"doctor couldn't get her to breathe, she almost died."

fuck i am so detached from what i am writing . not going near
the pain, the feelings. bastard world, bastard people.
fuckers. where's my sister??? stupid people, stupid doctors
and nurses know nothing of my pain, my trauma. where's my
sister, put me with my sister. i want to sleep with her.

--Deborah Jackman