Into the Belly of the Beast
Excerpt from Carole’s Journal:
The man I called Bear - another capricorn another father figure I remember thinking
“We are all looking for Charles Manson to tell us what to do” That was probably truer
than I thought - again looking at myself and all this self-hatred - I kept looking for someone
to follow - Bear had it all the Capricorn, testosterone, plus the mystery of spending time
in jail - What is that appeal? that persona that force I was attracted like a moth
to the flame. I was very hurt, disappointed, and numb by Bear and Susie –
I was emotionally gone - dead. I remember the night I thought I should
walk off the roof of the house. I wanted to die, end it all - I was so disappointed,
sad and confused - I didn’t go off of the roof and the next day I met Bawa.
I have never discussed this night with anyone - including myself.
this is important
At issue was Susie and Bear leaving for California. So now I see Abandonment -
neglect - my doing something wrong to cause them to leave me I felt betrayed -
no support I was miserable - going back to B-town. R.R. opened a door -
what was I thinking? He was good looking, very bright, he introduced me to the work
I was attracted to the distraction and the glitter - Being in the center of everything.
Big shot ism at its best
As if it isn’t crazy enough that my mom thought of Charles Manson as someone to look for to tell her what to do. The way she dealt with it was the real crazy making part for me. I remember watching TV with my mom one night when I was about 13 yrs old, and their was an advertisement for an interview with Charles Manson. It seemed like a big deal and I wanted to watch it. At the time I didn’t really know that much about the man or what he had done. I asked if we could watch it, and my mother went off on one her long tirades about how evil he was and how mislead and easily manipulated those people were. How stupid they had been for following him at all, with her ever present air of “I would never do anything like that, I would never not think for myself, I would never do anything to hurt other people so much”. At the time I was disappointed that I couldn’t watch the interview, but didn’t think that much of her over reaction to it.
When Frank sent me this posting it put that night in a different light for me. She was deeply embarrassed that she had thought so highly of Charles Manson, and still pissed off that her friends had gone to California without her. I understand not wanting to admit that she was into the Helter Skelter thing. But what really bakes my noodle is that she was so over the top with her judgment of them and herself that she had to change her life story; to admit that she had anything at all to do with them. But that is, after all, how she rolled. My mom changed her facts and even her own experiences to fit her mood or her current philosophies. Don’t misunderstand me. I’m not talking about normal emotion growth, like learning life’s lessons, growing through your pain and experiences to become a better person. That’s not what my mom did. She would just change her story. Actually, she would change all her stores to make them fit together. There was no admitting she was ever wrong, or even that she has learned something. Just that she was better then everyone else, or that she knew more than others, or that she had all the answers.
Now that I’m older, and dare I say “grown up”, I look back at my childhood with so much emotion sometimes; anger, pity, grief. The list goes on. It’s a wonder that I’m sane at all. And I think that ignorance may have in fact been my saving grace. How else could I have come through? I think that if I had known then what I know now; that my mother, the woman who once slapped one her 5th grade students just for “lying” to her, the person who was constantly punishing me and my siblings for lying to her, never really told the truth about herself or her life. I think it would have crushed me. It’s hard enough to wrap my mind around it now with an adult frame of mind. But as child, it would have been too much bear.
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