My Family Garden

I ate a sugar pea pod from my mother's garden and my stomach turned.  The experience reminds me of my experience of family growing up.  We looked great on the outside, but inside was just toxic.  There were wonderful experiences too - horseback riding, ballet, jazz, piano lessons, and vacations.  They tried so hard, but at home there was so many arguments.  There were family reunions and I'm not sure I learned much from my extended family; hate speech on one side and sexual abuse on the other. As a caring person, I suffered.  These beginning layers only taught me how to find some really toxic friends and partners.  It took years to unlearn the negative thoughts, self hatred, shame, and guilt. How much has this foundation affected my experience of living a truth others can't sense?  I am really pondering the layers underneath my visions, voices, and sensory experiences that have haunted me.  My initial reaction to hospitalization was shock no one was recognizing my experience as a crime victim; and now 14 years later I'm feeling that emotion again.  I'd filed it away, but with one taste of her garden I'm there again.  Time to reread my book "Falling Into Peaces" and reflect:  Falling-into-Peaces