ALLIGATORS UNDER MY BED
Marlin paused for a moment, obviously thinking.
"But you weren't afraid of Lady?"
"No, not once."
"Why do you think that is?"
I shrugged my shoulders. "I have no idea."
"Your medical information says you have been diagnosed with anorexia, ADD, OCD and manic depression. It also reads that you have been tested, and are not bipolar, and that you suffer from migraine headaches. That's a lot to deal with, and now we add fear of dogs."
"Yeah, I guess I am a mess. That's why I'm here", laughing.
"Let's talk about you fears. Is there any other fear you would like to talk about?"
"Alligators."
"Alligators?" smiling. "That's a rather unusual."
"I only know I break out in a cold sweat thinking about them, and have nightmares that I have fallen into a pit of alligators, and I keep jumping around trying to avoid them eating me."
"When did fear begin?"
I would never forget! I was about four at the time. Bud was home at night for once, and smiled broadly at us, well pleased with himself. The smile never showed up in his eyes, but Aunt Doris was giddy around him. It was time for us to go to bed, and he opened the door, stopping us before we entered.
The room was dark and cold, and smelled musty. It was our bedroom in the corn crib house. There was a small bed in the middle, and that was all. The springs were rusted and broken on the bed. The mattress had a big enough hole in the middle that we could fall through it, and there was just a dirty, ragged sheet covering it. It was where Virginia and I slept.
We would lie on the bed and wrap our arms through the hole in the mattress, clasping our hands to keep from falling through. It was so cold. There was no overhead light in the room, and no lamp, but there was a small window high up which would let in the daylight. But night time in the country was dark. So many trees, and the corn husks sighing in the wind. For a little girl with a vivid imagination, it didn't take much outside noise to get my mind off and running.
"I really didn't need any help with conjuring up things to go bump in the night," I sighed. No, I didn't. Bud had plenty of conjuring to do; however, and what Bud said was law.
The rule was there could be no talking when we were put in our room at night. If Bud heard anything, out would come the belt and he didn't much care where it landed, or how hard. He usually didn't hit us with his hands, like he did Aunt Doris. It didn't matter, it still hurt. It was enough to put us on our guard. We did a lot of talking in whispers.
That evening, Bud stopped us and showed us a picture of alligators. He told us that he had been able to get a hold of a couple alligators, and kept them in a hidden place until night came.
"Now when you go to your room, I'm gonna bring in the cage, and I'll open the door and turn them loose into your room. See, that way, if you try to get up during the night, well they'll tear you apart and eat you up! Snap!! Snap!! Snap!!" he clapped his hands together several times to let us know how we would be eaten. "And," he continued, "You'll hear the door of the cage creak open, and know they're in your room. But they're real quiet; they don't make noise like you bad little girls so, they;ll just sit quiet and waiting for a toe, or a foot." He smirked. Then laughed, and slapped Aunt Doris on the rear. "Ain't that right, Dorie?" And they laughed together.
Then, he sent us to our room. It was all darkness, as he shut and locked the door. Then we heard a clanking sound, the creak of a door. "Here they come." Bud called out to us. We heard a soft slithery movement. Then nothing but silence.
I was too terrified to think or speak. I held on tighter through the mattress hole. Throughout the night I would start to doze off, then I would jerk awake, afraid... so afraid.
This set a new pattern for our lives in those days. In the morning Bud would let us out of our room, and at night he would release the alligators. The night Lady had her puppies, I wanted to go to her, but I knew the door was locked, and the alligators were out. I knew I would never make it, and I would be eaten up before I could get to her.
"I never got past that," I explained. "I've spent my lifetime afraid of sleeping and alligators. Just to watch them on television makes my blood run cold."
Marlin shifted in his chair. It's no wonder you've had problems sleeping. What has your sleep pattern been over the years since?"
"Sometimes I can go two or three days without sleeping, then suddenly it will catch up with me, and I am out for a whole day or two. Generally about and average of three hours a night."
"How does that affect your thought process?"
"I try not to think about it. Most days I just want to find a place to hide. And my poor children - they have to deal with a mother who loves them to pieces on one side, and about to blow a fuse on the other. I just get so tired, and I hate that they have to put up with this."
Marlin nodded. "How are you handling all this?"
"Well, I told you before that I don't cry. Actually, I don't cry in front of other people. I cry in the shower, or the closet, or my room late at night. I always feel miserable and sick the next day. I hate myself for being so weak. I have to stop it."
"Crying is actually a release. Tell me why you 'have' to stop it?"
My mind turned to a night in the past week. I was wretched and broken, with no place to turn. I began sobbing into my pillow, and the anguish poured out of me. Suddenly I had felt small hands patting me. I froze.
It was Jason, my little boy. "What's wrong Mommy?"
"Mommy is just hurting, way down inside."
"Is it like a pin prick, like when I get a shot or is it a giant hurt?"
"It's more like a giant. And I'm sorry. I didn't want you to hear me."
"It's okay, Mommy," he said, hugging me. "I'm here. I won't let any monsters hurt you. And I'll stay with you until you don't hurt anymore." Saying that, he climbed into bed and wrapped his tiny arms around me. I fell asleep singing with him.
When I awoke in the morning, Jason had gone back to his room.
No comments:
Post a Comment