Читать книгу Mostly White - Alison Hart - Страница 10

ELLA

I didn’t know how to stop hatred from entering my body. It was words looks thoughts energy swirling around me—and it got in effortlessly, I an open field became a deposit for other people’s waste

receptacle

My mother couldn’t stop it; she didn’t know how and most of the time she didn’t see it—she was wrapped up in some other world creating her own sanity. I didn’t know it was entering my body—filling my cells with aversion I accepted like the images of white blue-eyed blond-haired children on the TV screen reflecting what I would never be, but thought I was or should be—

Hatred entered my brain firing off neurons a pattern now ancient etched into my skull.

It was familiar, my body knew it somehow, it was already there so it must belong there. Soon I grew a cannonball heart of self-hatred, shame, and doubt all based on someone else’s contempt for others, someone else’s need for dominance—

someone else’s inner fear.

I was floating in the world with this heartache cannonball trying to find a place to land. I didn’t understand where it came from, all I knew was that I’d find myself on the floor weeping, trying to push something out out out—

or maybe it was like being haunted and having no words or images to name an experience of utter devastation.

This is how I floated through the world, that is, until I landed

I landed and found

roots.