**The first 8 years of my life had been burried for all my life. Today I am 35 years old & now that I eventually reach a state of mind where I feel confidend and secure about myself and who I am, the fog is slowly lifting and I begin to see pictures from my childhood. I'm amazed by the way my mind is working. I have been blaming my mother for everything I couldn't remember, before. Today, I start to realize that maybe she wasn't my problem. But I don't wanna play judge for those old days, I only wanna know.**

The first picture I ever received came to me about 8 years ago. A friend of mine took a photograph of me using a flash while we were standing under a dark bridge. The moment this flash hit my eyes I got taken back to my childhood. I saw myself being a naked toddler or maybe a bit older than that. I was standing on a desk and a lamp like this was facing me.

<center>![71NjFmwMr-L._SX342_.jpg](https://steemitimages.com/DQmWwFg6SHfeLJrFSwepGjxyABnrnT1cXXohG6nya9qPYca/71NjFmwMr-L._SX342_.jpg)</center>
<center>*source: afdecker.com*</center>


I broke down crying and shivering and felt abused by my friend. He didn't do anything else besides taking a picture but I never called him again after this incident. This is how my my mind recognzied that I wasn't ready for my own story. I obviously couldn't handle it and this is how it got hidden from me again. Until just recently. 

Two weeks ago, I was sitting at my desk at college, working on my tasks while all the sudden a stream of tears started running down my face. There was no feeling attached to it. It was just tears and I wasn't sensing anything besides confusion about this occasion. I left the room and sat down at a quiet place to let it all out. There I was sitting, crying until someone saw me and asked if I was alright.

*"I don't know."*

I honestly answered. 

*"I am feeling fine, I guess. I don't understand why I am crying."* 

She looked at me, not knowing what to say and I waved it aside.

*"Don't mind me. It's alright."*

She thankfully fled the scene and I stopped crying. What, the hell, was that?, I wondered and started worrying about my daughter and send a message, asking if she was alright. If I was crying while everything seemed to be ok, it maybe my motherly intuition I wondered, that would make me sense feelings not belonging to myself. However, my daughter was perfectly fine and I was very wrong about those feelings not belonging to myself. I was asking the wrong child …

When I got home that day, I scanned my mind for thoughts that would make me sad and I concluded it would have to be  feelings towards my Ex that made me cry. He left in September 2017 and since that day I had only fought for my existence, made some contracts to save my ass, started publishing on Steemit, had to apply for welfare, searching for a new appartment, started my new education … I had been working on so many other things that maybe I hadn't cried about losing my best friend enough. So I celebrated this feeling. I thought about my Ex, massaging physical blocks with my fascia roll, crying over him. 

The next morning, at the station, it hit me again and I started crying out of the blue. The same feeling as the day before. No real pain attached to it, just an endless stream of tears. I decided I wasn't done and went back home. I stayed at home for two days, crying a lot. For I had no reason I just projected this sensuality on my Ex which kind of worked for me. At the same time it left some confusion. I felt like standing in a corridor of my own senses and I could see that some of the doors where shut. I felt being thrown out of my own mind. Why couldn't I get acces to those feelings? Why would thinking about my Ex while crying not fully grab this sensation the way it should?

Two days ago it happened again. I was with a friend from college, he suddenly hugged me twice while we were waiting at a traffic light and said he just had to. I thanked him and could sense it all coming back again. I couldn't wait to get home. I supressed the tears and felt like running on a thread automatically, being drawn to my home where I eventually burst out in tears as soon as I shut the door behind me. This moment was much more intense. I went to the bathroom where I could hear myself saying: 
> My throat hurts. I am having difficulties swallowing

 and broke down to the floor where I could see picture of myself as a child, being on vacation with the church. I was standing in a medical room, with a nurse who gave me medicine I had to garble. I cried and cried. I couldn't see the abuse. I just saw being treated and I felt that someone had abused me. I started talking to this little child I could see in my mind. I told her to get on my lap so I could embrace her. I saw and felt my inner child sitting down on my lap. I hugged my arms around myself, around the little child in my mind and around my actual shoulders and dandled, saying: 

> I see you. I feel you. I hear you. I know, it's terrible but I am here to protect you. You deserve to be loved. I love you, sweet child, I do. 

I meditated a lot and hypnotized myself this day. I got into a trance playing the piano and could hear myself commanding orders. I wasn't even aware of talking while I was suddenly saying:

> Ask your mum about the clergymen. Ask your mum about the rich men. Ask her if she does even know about it. Ask if she wanna know.

So, I wrote some of the questions to her that came to my mind. Like, how old I was when I had been to the Wewelsburg (a castle in Germany. Well, not any castle. Let's just save that for a later time) and if she knows that I was sick and if someone picked me up from there or how this trip ended. And while I was at it, other questions popped into my mind that left me stunned.

*Why did you send me to the north coast of Germany? Who was the man that picked me up and brought me there over night? How long was I staying there and why? There was another vacation. I think the whole family applied. It was organized by the church, I guess. Who organized it? Where were we?*

However, I am not expecting lots of answers from my mother. I'll never forget the first time I told her that I couldn't remember my childhood. I was 15 years old and her answer was: 

***"If your mind doesn't wanna tell you, then it's just for your own protection."***

For two days now I am actively trying to connect to those burried memories and I keep receiving more and more pictures. I see myself as a child in a group of adults entering a small door next to the castle or maybe to the castle. Maybe both. Because I clearly didn't like the castle and the house next to the castle. Seeing this house I cried out heavily, even saying out loud: "I don't like this house!" I saw myself wearing read sandals with butterflies on the fastener, feeling terribly alone, standing in the yard of the Wewelsburg, I saw myself in a strange shower room, in the backroom of a small church, I saw myself with an old rich couple giving me a doll. Seeing this scene, I cried out: "IT IS MY BIRTHDAY!" which I can't imagine being true. I don't think I have ever been with a couple of strangers on my birthday. 

It's really tricky. It's such a wild mix of sensations, pictures & words that mainly leave me questioning. All those details like: Did I ever owned those red sandals with butterflies on it? Or is it flowers? Or just like a symbol for something else? Is this shower real or was that maybe a nightmare? I'm not even close to knowing by now. But every single question starts a quest and this time I won't shy away. I'm ready to figure out what has happened to me so that I can fully heal. And whatever it is that has happened to me, I start this jurney with the paradigm to forgive everybody who hurt me in the past. I'm ready to accept my own story and everyone who took part in it. 


<center>***[read part two here](https://steemit.com/familyprotection/@mayb/the-bad-nun-and-the-wewelsburg-part-2-of-repressed-memories-of-abuse)***</center>