Enlightenment and Nachos

When I was a child I wrote an essay about the topic. It won a contest in the local paper. I heard one of the adults say it was mandatory for a lot of the upper grades in the district. It was an extra credit for me that I used to get a merit badge over the break from school. My fourth grade teacher suggested it to me.

I am currently trying to go through the microfilm at the Central Library to locate it. I had a copy in a footlocker I was forced to leave at my great aunts that my dad left in San Marcos. I intend to head there and check if it still exists. I am afraid to confirm whether or not she is alive. That is the cowards way, better to go and collect all my grief at once.

The majority of the trauma I experience happened after that point so I can’t actually recall what I wrote. I want to write it again, but I want to read my original work to see how I felt and how I have changed after coming out of the washing machine of childhood to be beaten and hung out to dry like a used mattress. One of the things about Complex PTSD is that I struggle with my identity. Having proof of who I was before lost it might be useful. worse case scenario I will get to make the whole thing from scratch, but that is the therapy talking.