Depression from the Past....

You know every now and then, you get flashback about somethings that happen in
the past while growing up. Some of those things are good to remember and some
of them are bad to remember like I wish I could get rid of it.

I could go to counseloring, I could go to a Doctor for medications to help with
those things. But instead of those two things, I went and I spoke with a Priest
about it. The Priest gave me some prayer cards to use and pray to God to give
God what happen in my past. Surely it is easy to pray but it doesnt' necessary
means those memories will be gone.

An example of a memory that I don't recall that my brother told me that I did in
the past. My brother laughed and told me that I hit a kid with a lunchbox. I don't
even recall doing that at all. If I had remember, I would have remember watching
the kid crying and screaming from being hit on the head with the lunchbox. I figure
God took that memory away from me because he probably understood what I did and
that I did not need to remember it.

When I was in a special class with other servre disability students, I remember
being in that class room in Hampton Va. In that class, I had a friend name Jay
Le Dible (?) in which he was in a wheelchair and was very disability like he
could not move his hands. He had a positive attitute and a really nice person.
In that class room, I was sucking two fingers on my hand which were the index and middle gingers on either my right hand or my left hand. The teacher taped those two fingers together and tells me to suck on the tape. I did not like sucking on the tapes and thus it made me not to suck my fingers again. That was embarrassing to happen in the class room.

In another time in the same class room as I will sworn on any Bible that this
really happen. Just be warned that this isn't pleasant to read but here it goes:

One day, the teacher had us bring our chairs up close for reading time. She then
told one girl to come up on the right side of the teacher. I wasn't really
understanding what the teacher was saying. But the teacher proceeded to turn the
girl around as she was facing away from the students and her back was toward us.
The teacher pulled up the girl skirt to tuck it into the belt. She pulled down
the girl's panty to expose the girl bare bottom. The teacher than torn off the
white fungus on one of her finger and twist the fungus. The next thing the teacher
did was place it into the girl's rectum. The teacher had the student stand the
whole reading time. During the reading time, the teacher would stop from time to
time to push in the fungus into the girl's rectum. Surely the teacher did slap
the girl on the bare bottom a few times as well but it was never red or hard enough
for the girl to cry.

Not only is that one memory I had is depression to remember. I also remember being
spanked twice in two different schools in Hampton, Va. Surely as I remember that I
know I deserved those two for misbehaving. But my parents never knew I was spanked
in school. I wish my parents knew about the spanking. It would have made me felt
better if the parents knew and discuss me about those behavior I did in school.

To remember those things from time to time does drive me to feel depression because
they aren't pleasant to remember. I know from the Priest says the best thing to
do is to pray to God and let him take those memory away from me. I am too scared
to tell anyone about these events because no one will ever believe me. That
story of the girl in school, people would think I am insane or that I made up that
story. There is no witness today to back me up except God. The class room was way
seperate from te other parts of the school for anyone to see or to hear. It was not
in a trailor but down a very long hallway as far as I can remember.

Writing this in a blog and sharing this does help me put it in writing to help get
it off my chest. I know parts of this blog was gross to share but I had to make
a point. There is a point which is some things in the past can be carried on to
feel depression. For all I know, the answer is prayers to God to help me get on
with my life and try to forget it. Being 47 years old, I still carry it with me.
That is very sad to carry on and will always be a part of my life until one day
I finally forget that it ever happens.