Years ago, I became certified in Reiki, a type of energy healing. ‘Certified’ means that a Reiki Master (or in my case, 3 masters) opened my chakras and taught me how to use Reiki, how to receive it, and how to funnel it to others for healing. Usually, the person receiving Reiki feels either warm, cool or tingly; but they may feel nothing at all. When the teachers tried to open my heart chakra, I felt severe pain. I mean it was intense. I tried to tolerate it because I understood that it was for my own good, but eventually I could not take it. The teachers later showed my class a technique for asking questions of your body. At home, I asked myself what was the source of this intense pain. I was expecting my body to tell me that it had to do with a recent break-up. I was really surprised when I was given a completely different answer. I heard that my pain was grief because of my father, my biological father. As I have written before, my biological father was a real bastard. When my mother was 5 months pregnant with me, he beat the shit out of her. He punched her in the stomach in an attempt to kill me, which is why I have a 30° curvature in my spine. My mother did a very brave thing for 1967, and left him. After I was born, I went directly from the hospital to my gramma’s house and that was that. The Reiki exercise taught me that I was grieving from the attack that happened in utero.
I told my story in the next Reiki session and sure enough, there was a woman in class who was trying to recover from domestic abuse and really needed to hear what I had to say. I guess she thought she was the only victim in her family. When the Reiki Masters tried again to open my heart chakra, they said it was like a green bomb of light exploding. It just burst open.
I mention this story today because of something disturbing my mother told me this week. We were talking about my biological father, which is always tricky for me because I don’t know how much she can take talking about her traumatic past abuse, when my mother told me something that I never heard before. One of the strengths of my mother is that she never badmouthed the bastard to me when I was a child. Never. I only learned about what he had done to her by listening at keyholes. When I reminded her about my spinal scoliosis because he punched her when she was pregnant, she didn’t remember at first – because she didn’t know I knew. Then, after about 10 seconds, she did remember. She said he took a fistful of aspirins and shoved them in her mouth, then pushed her head into the toilet IN AN ATTEMPT TO MURDER ME.
I am so upset that my mother had to live through that kind of abuse. You would never guess to look at her. She looks like she has everything money can buy, but really she has a dark and lonely past, full of trauma, physical pain, and TORTURE. We talked about justice and wondered if there were any way to get it. Since he so loves money, could we put him in jail for never paying my child support? It seems hopeless that we could ever get him punished for what he did. I am feeling troubled now, a gnawing sort of feeling, and the strain is settling in my shoulders and neck muscles. I wish I had a therapist to help me process this new information, but at the same time, I know there is so much more.
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