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Attachment is a process of communication through which the environment communicates the kinds of resources that are available within it to sustain and promote life.  In narrowing the focus to human attachment we can see it begins as a sperm attaches to an egg and as the resulting new life attaches to the uterine wall.  The emotional responses of a mother are communicated to her unborn through biochemical signals that begin to adjust the developing embryo to the conditions of its future life in the world before it is born.

It also remains primarily the signals a new human being receives from its mother throughout the first year of its life that determine the trajectory of its development either within and for a safe and secure world of adequate resources OR within and for an unsafe and insecure world in which resources are scarce and inadequate.

Because what makes us most uniquely human is the potential within our highly complex brain, it is the body-to-body, face-to-face interactions a mother has with her newborn throughout its most important rapid brain-growing stages that literally download a mother’s brain into her infant’s.  Because we are a social species it is the right social-emotional limbic region of our brain that develops first and quickly within an infant during its first year of life.

Every newborn is equipped to both seek attachment with its mother and to communicate in ever increasingly more complex ways both what it needs AND who it is as an individual, unique person who must develop a clear sense of its own self in a body to grow up a whole, healthy person.

It is nature’s intent that it be at first primarily the infant’s mother who both receives the attachment signals from her infant and who responds back to it in adequate, appropriate ways.  The attachment relationship between an infant and its mother requires that the mother not traumatize her infant by ignoring its signals of need and intent to get all of its needs met in the best possible way.

Besides the obvious physical needs for protection and sustenance, an infant’s growing brain needs responses from its mother (along with everyone else in its caregiving environment) that regulate the quality and the intensity of its ongoing experience.

If a mother herself experienced unsafe and insecure early attachment during the essential first 33 months (conception to age two) of her own life she will most likely communicate to her infant the same or very similar patterns of her unsafe and insecure beginnings to her infant.  Her abilities to attune with the communication signals her infant sends to her and her abilities to mirror the infant back to itself appropriately and accurately will be interfered with so that her own ’emotional backlog and backwash of trauma’ will result in ineffectual response to her newborn.  The resulting emotional dysregulation rather than healthy emotional regulation will not only build her infant’s right brain, it will build itself into her infant’s right brain.

While of course the earliest attachment relationships an infant has with its father and other caregivers are important, it is the relationship an infant has with its mother that carries the burden of weight to primarily form an infant’s social-emotional regulatory right brain and the correspondingly critical development of its nervous and immune systems.  It is primarily the mother who determines her infant’s trajectory of physiological development during the most critical stages of its body-brain formation. 

It is during these earliest critical stages that degrees of safety and security will communicate to the infant what kind of a world it will live in for the rest of its life.  The infant’s development adapts and adjusts itself accordingly.  Either an infant will grow with trust that it is safe and secure as a self among members of its species in the world or it won’t.

All patterns of interactions an infant has with its mother affect every other interaction this new person will have with its own self in a body, with other people and with the world at large.  That these first patterns of interaction happen on the neurochemical and physiological (including genetic) level does not negate their power to determine the course of a person’s life.  It is in fact true that these same interactions form both the foundation and the infrastructure within an infant’s body-brain that essentially govern all patterns of interactions that require the participation of a body-brain in its life — in other words, all of them.

It is from being able to see attachment patterns in operation between a 12-month-old infant (and even a younger one) and its mother that developmental experts can name the presence of safe and secure attachment or degrees of unsafe and insecure attachment.  These patterns have not only been built into the relationship between an infant and its mother, they have BUILT the body-brain of the infant. 

Degrees of change from safe and secure attachment patterns are known as insecure attachment disorders.  These same patterns  of attachment can be observed and assessed clearly among adults by discovering whether or not an adult can tell a coherent narrative story of their life.

In essence, unsafe and insecure attachment patterns disturb an individual’s ability at any age to experience a life without trauma built into it.  This trauma stays present as ‘unresolved trauma’ that interrupts the experience of well-being in a person’s body-brain and correspondingly in their life.

Current approximations tell us that about half of our adult population has a body-brain built by safe and secure early attachment and half of us have some degree of an insecure attachment disorder because we did not experience safe and secure attachment during the early 33 months of our life.  These patterns most obviously transmit themselves down the generations through mothers.

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I pop onto Facebook now and then to click a ‘like’ here and there, to let people in my life (be it at a distance) know that I am interested in what interests them.  The rest of the time I do what many blog readers do:  I look, I think, and I remain silent.

I also notice that recently there are many comments appearing about ‘guns’, which is not a topic I jump into with a toe, let alone with both feet.  Except that this morning — this quite early morning — my personal shields must be up.  Or is that down?  I’m frankly not too sure because this is what I feel urged to say:  Blaming any object for any human action is childish thinking.

Or so it seems to me.

I have perhaps a rather unique take on objects and violence.  I was raised by a psychotically abusive (and I mean PSYCHOTIC) Borderline Personality Disorder mother.  I spent the first 18 years of my life being victim to her brutal verbal and physical assaults.  I know a thing or two or ten thousand about objects and violence.

I have written before on this blog – briefly at best – about the insanity of the ‘object’ portion of Mother’s abuse.  She made a long list of every item she deemed of value that she beat me with — and broke.  Wooden spoons, spatulas, wooden Stanley hairbrushes.  True, crazy.

But on this list were also placed all kinds of other items that in Mother’s world were hurt by my supposed actions.  Did she pass by the kitchen sink while I was washing the family’s dishes and see that I had left a wooden spoon soaking in the water?  Attack!  And ruined item added to the list.

Had I caused a mark across the waist of an apron from rubbing against the metal strip along the counter top?  Onto the list.  Caused a bend or a twist in the cord of the iron?  Onto the list.  Left a clothespin on the line when I removed the dried laundry?  Onto the list.

Only the wisest, most savvy readers will understand the other levels to this abuse.  By the time I was in 8th grade Mother hit on the idea that index cards with contact information could be placed around town that I could be paid for doing their ironing.  All fine and well?  Any money I earned went toward paying off my debt for broken and ruined items on Mother’s long list.

It didn’t stop there.  A month after my 18th birthday my parents ‘put’ me into the Navy.  Off I went to boot camp.  Off my paychecks went back to Mother to pay off the damages I had accrued in her universe — by growing up.

In the end, after boot camp was in my past, Mother settled up my debt by generously ‘making a deal’.  She would keep every one of my personal items left at home when I flew off to ‘freedom’ as final payment on my debt.

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OK.  So, when I went to 8th grade and had to wear one of those ugly little blue gym suits that exposed every color of bruise covering the back of my body from my heels to the base of my neck from being beaten with belts with buckles and Stanley hairbrushes and wooden spoons and shoes……..  Blame the OBJECTS?

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The word ‘reciprocate’ just came into my mind.  By itself the word does not include an indication of whether what is to be reciprocated is ‘good’ or ‘bad’ – kindness or violence.  The definition of the word does include:  1:  to give and take mutually; 2: to return in kind or degree.  In other words, there is no ‘value added’ to this concept.

However, I find it interesting that the word ‘reciprocal’ has a different definition for its first meaning:  inversely related: opposite

Again I must be thinking about ‘intention’ and ‘motivation’.  When someone hurts another person, for example, did they MEAN to be MEAN?

A second definition of ‘reciprocal’:  shared, felt, or shown by both sides.

Isn’t this what shared empathy is?

I am confused even by the origins of the word ‘reciprocal’:  Latin reciprocus returning the same way, alternating.

Is this what communication is?

Is this a paradox?  How is ‘returning the same way’ the same thing as ‘alternating’?

I don’t even know why these thoughts and questions are appearing to me right now.  What am I asking myself?  What am I telling myself?  What do I know?  What do I need to know that is connected to these word concepts?

I don’t know.  But somehow this pursuit of mine into my own ‘unknown’ must be relevant to SOMETHING that interests me right now.  I wonder what that might be……..

Hum……..

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Reciprocating meanness with kindness.  One thing.  Reciprocating meanness with meanness.  Another thing.  Reciprocating meanness with forgiveness.  Something else.

My next thought is:  “Nothing my mother did to me had anything to do with me.”

Is this a kind of understanding about the abuse my mother did to me that is unique to the context of my particular history of abuse – that because I know now how mentally ill my mother was I can begin to more deeply understand that this was true?

It relates to the questions about how abuse is passed down in some circumstances and not in others.  The most common statistic I remember hearing is that 65% DO NOT pass abuse on while 35% DO pass it on.

I told my daughter as I began to clarify how ‘the story’, the history (herstory) I am working toward publishing needed to start with my mother because she was in the exceptional 35% group:  She very definitely passed abuse on – albeit to ME as the chosen child of her six.

Pondering violence:  What makes some people VIOLENT?  What might make most or all of us violent in certain circumstances?  What is the relationship between anger and violence?  Is there always such a relationship?

Thinking about ‘reciprocal’ – how is it that the majority of abuse survivors DO NOT reciprocate with violence?  They obviously found an ALTERNATE way to be in the world.

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I have a book I have written that is parked.  Parked.  Book in waiting.  For what?  For when?

As I write at this moment I realize that I have to wait until I can READ that book.  Will I ever be able to read it?  On some levels I clearly know the answer to my own question is “NO!”

“Story without Words:  The invisible silence of my mother’s abuse of me”

I remember writing something about CHOICE in that book.  Do those who reciprocate for the abuse they suffered CHOOSE that path?  Did they CHOOSE “to return the same way” versus choosing an alternate way?

Do people who have NO HISTORY of unsafe and insecure early attachment trauma – no history of ANY abuse whatsoever – act violently?

If some people who have suffered from unsafe and insecure early attachment and other abuse do not become violent people – then it seems logical that it can work the other way around:  that those without trauma histories can become abusers.

Well, what kind of pattern IS THAT?

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I must see that the ‘issue’ of intention and motivation inevitably involves CHOICE.  In the case of my mother’s psychotic mental illness, I don’t believe she had a choice.  I therefore remove from her abuse of me equation the idea that she had any kind of intention or motivation other than the one her Borderline Personality Disorder with psychosis created for her.

Sometimes I wonder what patterns might look like when mental illness, and certainly psychosis in the abuser, were NOT in the picture.  Then I run up against my own brick wall:  Abuse only happens when mental illness is present, even if that mental illness is temporary as it causes all abuse to happen.

I must think that reciprocal peace is the norm, and that lack of peace reflects mental illness.  I must think that NOT hurting others is the norm, and that hurting others is mental illness.  I am not talking about so-called mental illness that is so-called because there is a disturbance in biochemistry.  I am talking about a kind of mental illness that is aberrant, that goes against what is GOOD — that is, what is health promoting.

Hum………………………………

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Motives – hidden or blatant?  It is not my motive to ‘bad mouth’ my mother as I work toward publication of this story of her abuse of me – of her mental illness – of the TRUTH as I can perhaps discover and elucidate it.

Where is the truth hidden in our nation?  How is it that speaking ILL of perpetrators makes the survivor who dares to speak up — to utter the words about what happened and about how that mattered — a truth-saying villain?

My work is not about vilifying anyone, but neither is it about soft-shoeing around what SOMEONE needs to say!  There are patterns to madness – and there are patterns to abuse.  Detection and study of these patterns COULD be helpful.  I sure don’t see that this work can be HURTFUL.

But to some people — it is.  To some people, those of us who dare to think and write about and search for and discover and try to learn learn learn about what harms especially infants and children — those of us who speak the truth as we reach and work for learning — can often be told in all kinds of ways that WE are defective!

Defective in what ways, exactly?

Defective that we don’t have “A full life” (read a “good life,”  a “better than you have – what’s wrong with YOU life” – Shame shame!)?  Defective that we dare to go against THIS social rule?  “If, on the other hand you ever have anything positive to say about anyone do not hesitate to” — say it?

And how is the rest of the story supposed to read?

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A great rain and wind storm found its way to our southeastern Arizona region last night.  We needed rain so badly!  It was too wild and noisy to sleep much so by early morning I was back at work – writing.

For the most part I think most of the slow and tedious work I am doing right now on the 7 volumes of my mother’s writings I am preparing for publication would be done by a publishing company — if I had one — which I don’t.  I have mixed feelings.  Good that now with epublishing and self publishing I can put books out there without a publisher.  Bad that none of this work is in the least bit pleasant!  Oh.  Well…..

My overall feeling this morning after finishing what’s at this link (not sure if I already posted the first part – if you have read it before scroll down to the second part) – is a kind of hopelessness I’ve never felt before today –

+COMMENTARY FROM “GRAB A MOUNTAIN” (Mildred in Her Own Words

For levels of abuse such as I and so many others experienced, is healing ever possible?  What IS healing for people like us?

I don’t know – and I don’t know.

Maybe what I’ve always thought was healing until I wrote the second have of my commentary for the third volume of the series containing my mother’s words this morning was NEVER actually healing.  It was education.

Is education the same thing as healing?  If the answer is ‘yes’, does that mean ALL education is actually healing?  Are the words for these processes interchangeable?

The way things look to me at this moment I see that for the last half of my life I have been searching to understand what happened to me, and what that did to me.  This is education.  Never in the first 20 of these years did any therapist, any person, ever even intimate let alone suggest or tell me that my mother was mentally ill.  I found that out accidentally on my own 10 years ago when I read the book “Stop Walking on Eggshells.”  Through the information in that book I understood – finally – that Mildred was mentally ill with Borderline Personality Disorder.

I could long ago say that Mildred suffered a psychotic break while birthing me — but it is only in these past 2 months of work on these manuscripts that I have come to understand (as I mention in this commentary) that the same psychosis that caused her to so abuse me also caused her to homestead in Alaska as she was driven both to keep me in her all-bad hell — and as she was driven to search for and acquire her literal all-good heaven on earth up on the side of her mountain.

As I have discovered this fact I have also discovered that when Mildred SAW me do something when I was a child that I knew I had not done – that I knew had never happened – her psychosis actually MADE her see exactly what she saw!

I am feeling VERY DENSE that it has taken me this long to figure this fact out!!

I simply never had the WORDS until now that were needed to describe what in fact Mildred was doing – why – and how she did it.

Before now there was dead space where the right information was missing.  Without this right information I could not THINK about the truth of myself in my childhood.  I recognize this dead space!  I was entirely filled with the silence of it for the first 30 years of my life — before I even found the word ABUSE!  I did not know I had even been abused!

Another 30 years – and great – time to celebrate?  That I have the next most important word so that I can now put these two words together?  I was PSYCHOTICALLY ABUSED!

Hardly seems like a big thing to celebrate.  Hardly seems like a significant victory or achievement of healing.

All this is belongs to the category of EDUCATION.  I see no ‘healing’ in this process whatsoever.  I do now understand what BEING AT A LOSS FOR WORDS can do to anyone who has been psychotically abused by a psychotic person!!  Our abusers were nowhere near being in the mainstream, and because of this we as their victim-survivors did not come into our adulthood having mainstream words to even begin to THINK about what has happened to us.

Maybe I will come up closer to the surface after I finish my work on these manuscripts.  In the meantime I have to go through Mildred’s words as I have transcribed them with a ‘fine toothed comb’ looking for typos, spacings, all the teensy details that need to be corrected in order to publish a quality book – no matter WHAT it’s content.

Then I need to comb through the collection of photographs to label each one as to the place each will need to be inserted into EIGHT manuscripts counting my introductory book for this series, “Story without Words.”  If I thought tolerating the WORDS that run parallel to my own story was hard, tolerating the images in the pictures is harder!  But I am determined.  And with the Christmas deadline I am facing I better quit whining and get back to work.  Thanks for reading!  It helps me feel not so alone in this work.

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3:00 P.M. my time – and I am done.  I did it.  500,000 words I ‘inherited’ from my mother — which does include some words written by my grandmother, some of my father’s words — but I did it.  Seven manuscripts — I just finished ‘working with’ the last word.

How do I feel?  What do I think?

Relief.  Yes.  Last night as I thought about ‘the end’ I would reach today I realized that for whatever reason — I am completing a job that I believe I was entrusted with.

I think I would feel differently – in ways I cannot name – if I didn’t know that Mother Mildred did, indeed, not only write so many of these words but also found a way to keep them, because she hoped to publish a book.

What is it about me, I ask myself — that in spite of the 18 years of hellish abuse that woman did to me that I would accept such a ‘trust’ to publish her words?  Is it that I comprehend on levels I cannot name how devastating to Mildred – and thus to me – to all of her 6 children – and even to her husband – this mental illness of Borderline Personality Disorder with its psychosis was?  That I understand that her BPD mental illness prevented her from obtaining her own goal of writing and publishing?

That I would do ‘this’ for her?

Or is it that I do this for myself?  For both of us?  Can a person do something ‘for’ a person who is dead?

I ask for blessings to come from the publication of her words – not only for me and my family – but blessings to many – that I hope there is goodness that can come from this elucidation of BPD that Mildred’s own words provides.

This mysterious disorder!  This so-devastating to so many disorder!  This so not understood, misunderstood disorder!

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I find myself now craving other people’s informed assessment of “Mildred in Her Own Words.”

I thought I would be able to write a conclusion after I finished working with the last of these letters in volume #7 – which for now I have simply titled, “Fading Away.”  Perhaps it is a sign of my successful completion of my task, fulfillment of my trust — that I had not one single WORD I wanted to say at the end of this final book of this series.  Maybe I will feel better after a little distance from the work – maybe something will appear that I want to say – but not now.  So NOT NOW!!!

My success — a parting of the waters?  A parting of the ways between Mother and myself?  Did I accomplish one of my great hopes — that through this work I could completely separate — finally — myself from my so abusive mother?

Have I set myself free, as I hoped I would through this work?  So that I can next – if I CHOOSE TO — tear to smithereens her disorder as I see it operating in her words — to tell the rest of this story — ??

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My main overriding thought at this new point of ‘being done’ – is that Mildred’s life needs to be assessed sociologically way before it would be appropriate to tear it apart psychologically.

I am thinking that there are probably some very important reasons that are mostly overlooked – perhaps – about why BPD seems to be such a FEMALE disorder for the most part.

What kinds of influences operated on my mother — through her mother — through her grandmother — through her society — that impacted to the negative so much of how Mildred was able to see herself in the world?

She was TRAPPED — and how many women not mentally ill still know exactly what that state IS?  What limitations do we place on women in our culture – that seem so invisible – yet which can be so destructive to talent, to fulfillment of real and true deepest wishes in a woman’s life?

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I do believe Mildred hated and abused ME because of her sickness – the same sickness that prevented her from ever publishing her writings — and strangely, the same sickness that both drove her to Alaska and up a mountain to homestead at the same time it drove her down off the mountain — again and again and again.

As I clear my thinking at the moment writing here — which is a very good thing for me to do right now!! — I realize it was the ‘over and over and over and over again’ nature of what appears throughout Mildred’s entire 7 volumes that troubles me so much.  There WERE no SOLUTIONS!!

No solutions.

Only problems, her inwardly connected problems — that found themselves mirrored in the repeated patterns of the trauma drama of her life.

No solutions.

Is that perhaps the biggest damage that BPD mental illness – at least as it appeared with a psychosis in Mildred — did to Mother?

Yet how many women – and I would include MEN – are sociologically trapped and confined within the boundaries, the borderlines of what is acceptable and therefore most properly POSSIBLE for lives within our culture?

Does how a culture defines what is acceptable then equally CONFINE people so that true solutions cannot be found to problems — within a person and without — that all of us are bound to encounter in our lives?

No.  Wait.  A child of a safe and secure attachment relationship with its mother from birth, within a healthy family, would NOT have faced the same problems that Mildred did.

Or – would they?  Was it more HOW Mildred was limited by her illness and by her insecure attachment disorder in her ability to solve problems that nearly everyone faces — even such basic ones as, “What do I want to BE when I grow up?  What do I want to do with my life?  What do I need?” — that can be seen most clearly in her story contained in the 7 volumes of her writings that matters most?

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In some important way today I have done two things:  (1) I have ordered and organized Mildred’s life story narrative better than she could ever do in her lifetime and, (2) I have set her story free.

Again I mention that it is the inability of an adult to tell a coherent narrative of their life that is the #1 presenting symptom of unsafe and insecure attachment PRIMARILY WITH ONE’S MOTHER during the first year of life.

That Mildred’s narrative as it is now put together in these volumes tells at best only HALF of the truth about Mildred leaves me with a second related – but primarily completely separate job I intend to take on next.  I KNOW Mildred was severely and psychotically abusive to me.  I KNOW she suffered from a severe mental illness – Borderline Personality Disorder.

Mildred did not KNOW these things.  She could not so she did not.  But for now I rest my case in the case study of Mildred exactly as she presents it in her own words. It is my hope to tell the other half of Mildred’s story next — both of her abuse and of her illness.

As I do this I understand that the stories I am presenting are WOMEN’S stories.

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I have spent most of this past week with my laptop busy on manuscripts at our local laundromat cafe.  Not a very exciting week – but hopefully a productive one.  (Not that any of my weeks are exciting!)  I am running out of daylight in more ways than one as I work to get into the waiting cue as many manuscripts as I can for my daughter to edit during the week after Christmas she will be taking off from her demanding job to help get these at least published in ebook format.

“The Demise of Mildred” has very probably expired into oblivion as thinking and work moves forward on my severely abusive Borderline Personality Disorder mother’s writings.  At present I have decided that because my mother had a psychotic break that in effect gave her an ‘upper’ mind which created and lived in an upper world, and a second ‘lower’ world, that I need to publish first her entire collection of writings just the way she wrote them.

This collection of her writings I am working with was written by her ‘upper’ mind about her ‘upper’ ‘all good’ world.  The world of hell she created and kept me in as her ‘lower’ world replacement for herself in this hell would be impossible to describe the way I wanted to.  If I insert the truth about Mildred within her own story – her ‘upper’ story will become as incoherent to readers as it really SHOULD be – given the severity of her mental illness.

So I am now working through volume 5 of what I am at least temporarily calling the series, “Mildred’s Alaskan Saga in Her Own Words” – which will read as a soap opera!  There will be 6 or 7 books for this series.  And when I am done giving Mildred her own books – I can go to work on the truth of what she kept invisible freely under my own series which I may title, “Unmasking Mildred.”

So, I came to peace recently with the fact that because Mildred did have two minds, there needs to be two series about her two minds.

I am going to be very curious to see if readers can find Mildred’s mental illness in her own story of her life.  I can, of course, but then I lived inside her madness.

So, I am just checking in here — I want to have all 6 or 7 manuscripts done by next Wednesday.  I will then need to scan and prepare photographs to send to my son to prepare for publication.  Now for a little down time – and back at this book business again tomorrow!  I am missing the old days when writing blog posts was all I needed to do when the writing bug bit me.  Things have gotten a whole lot more complicated than that — at least for the time being.  Oh, well!

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I was reminded by Sandy Mitchell this week about this hard to watch but extremely important research on attachment as shown in this video:

What is known as The Tronick “Still Face” Experiment

Watching it makes me profoundly wonder, “How do people survive who had nothing close to the kind of safe and secure attachment with a mother than the infant in this video obviously has?”

How DID we survive?

While everyone who watches this video NEEDS to feel sorrow — those of us who can feel an inner sense of vast, nearly incomprehensible sadness will know instantly that we are miracles of survival because the neglect if not outright horrors of abuse to us from our youngest days, weeks, months of life put this sadness inside of us.

I have a friend in this small town area where I live who absolutely believes that any early severe abuse survivor CHOSE to remain alive.  My friend absolutely believes that if there had ever been a time during the horrible suffering from abuse during the first 18 years of my life that had I asked God to end my suffering, He would have.

Back in the days of my early years (I am 61 now) probably the ONLY way my suffering would have ended is if I had actually died.  It might be the same reality for many of this blog’s readers.

If what my friend so strongly believes is actually the way things work — then there is no reason for any of us to have made it out of the enduring torture and torment of our early years other than we were strong enough not to give up.

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I am also strong enough and stubborn enough not to give up on this writing, either, no matter the struggle I go through.  Here is the link to the version of the book I have been working on if you would like to read it.  Place any comments you might have at this link.  Thanks!

+”STORY WITHOUT WORDS” – manuscript for beta readers

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What does a silent invisible word say?  What does it mean?  What does a silent invisible child do?  What does it say?  Where does invisibility and silence live?

What is the connection between pathological shame and the extremes of hiding behavior that even healthy shame generates in humans?  I know of an expert in the crowd who can wisely address the answer to this question – though his words are silently invisible-invisibly silent at the moment.  I am left with this keyboard and my computer screen all by myself.

If I had the choice right now to ‘make it real’ I would choose to have absolute and complete amnesia about every childhood trauma that happened to me.  Of course for this action to be effective all the development of my body would have to be changed, as well, so that the effects early trauma had on my development would never have happened either.

No choice.

Except that is exactly what my mother’s psychotic BPD did for her.  As far as she knew – all troubles possible just vanished into her lower world mental hell along with real me.

Except that I was not really real.

So even now as I try to write for book publication my words do not want to stick where I put them.  My words belong in invisible silence.  That is their nature.  So if I don’t leave them alone – as I have now sent them to my daughter for her editing of them – on my own I would dismantle my entire manuscript as I let my words do what they wish to do:  disappear.

Me, an invisible writer telling an invisible story with invisible words.  Nobody hears or sees a thing.  Eighteen years of that.  My body-self and much of its corresponding brain-mind cannot escape the effects of that reality that did not simply disappear for me when I left home at 18.  Nope.

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