Subject: Who is Starlite*111 she knows not who she is
You can never say you know me, because I don't know me.
I have many names, many ages, many attitudes, many personalities, many hiden, many hibernating, many stuck, many lost, many pretending.
Suzie 1 and Suzie 2, There is Sweet Sue, Zelda, Witching Woman, Claudette Veron, Mother, closet child, grown child - but not grown, Professional Susan, Sister Sue, Tonya, Angel, baby Q, Suzie Q, vampriestess, depressed sue, manic sue, paranoid sue, anxious sue, hateful sue, angry sue, mean sue, strong sue, shameful sue, protective sue, social sue,Wild Woman, number sue, not there sue, the wife, the carer mommie and momma of my children, the writer of poetry, the person who sees beauty from a camera lens - But who is Sue...
If you notice there was never a daughter sue.
Each had to stop in time and become who ever fit the current situation.
Susan could fit into any situation, could mingle with every type of crowd. Very good at what she had to do, what she had to be at any given time.
I floated above myself and watched me perform -
Yet all the time hating it. Feeling insecure. Not wanting to be there. Feeling shame for what I was doing. Not wanting to do the things I did. Not being who I was really, who ever that was suppose to be.
As I write this my stomach is feeling sick.
As I write the many faces of Susan are trying to pop out. But I won't let them or I will be caught in that emotion.
At this very moment I feel sad, hurt, lonely - yet that's all I know and all I am comfortable with.
I was told that I am to be the mother of myself and go back to each Susan or Sue, go back to each trauma and let her know it's okay now. To hold her, comfort her, let her know she is protected and nothing can hurt her anymore.
The mother wants first to go down to the baby Suzie that lays in the closet under the dirty clothes. The one that holds herself inside of a black box. She is the one I must go to first, but I can't. There is so much pain there. To much I think to bare. Yet, I can see mother me, holding her, but she is so small, so scared. She only knows she has to hide.
I must stop now as the very small Suzie is curling up tighter and tighter into her dark black box.
You can never say you know me, because I don't know me.