“The child is in me still and sometimes not so still.”
Fred Rogers
Memory
I locked my mother out of our house for the last time when I was 4. That’s something I did frequently when I was younger though I don’t remember it. But I do remember this time.
My mother was walking ahead of me through the kitchen then stepped out the side door. Click! I locked the kitchen door behind her. Then I went running just as fast as I could to lock the front door as well. Next I dashed to the bedroom and crawled into a closet. She had to break a window and climb through it to get back inside.
I heard her screaming at me from outside as I waited in the dark. I knew when she got inside she was going to give me a royal thrashing. But until she found me, I was quite content, even happy, sitting in that closet.
Meeting Gino
When I tore that wall down and saw the child in the closet I immediately recognized both. I don’t know if it was the clothes hanging above her head or realizing the closet extended to the left and right of the open door, but I just knew. This was the same closet where I had hidden that day when I was 4. I also knew the child was me. Coming face to face with yourself as a child is a bit unsettling.
The child sat on the floor of the closet just inside the door, but when I also sat down at the opening in the wall she was startled. She immediately scooted back against the back wall and drew her knees up in front of her, hugging them with her arms. I tried to coax her to come closer to me, but she refused. I had called her by my name, Lynne, but she quickly corrected me. “No, my name is Gino!” Gino – wow! Nicole called me that when I was little. But Gino’s next statement confused me. She proudly proclaimed, “This is my closet but I made room for everyone!”
Shadow Girls
Recognized on the Left
That confusion cleared a moment later. A new girl popped into view from the left side of the closet. Obviously another Me only older. This girl was about 13, grinning widely, and looked thrilled to see me. Somehow I recognized her as the happy, confidant, teen Me I had lost during Junior High when Alva stripped me of self-esteem. Gino had protected her in the closet rather than let her be destroyed. This teen Me hesitated only a moment then crawled through the opening in the wall to stand beside me.
Then another face peered at me in the doorway – slightly younger and not as firm or fully there as the first girl had been. Gino and the happy girl looked as real as any memory could be, but this new girl did not. Her features were slightly blurred and faded. She was also very solemn and extremely sad looking. She came quickly through the wall opening to stand beside me and the happy girl.
That’s when I recognized her as the 11-year-old Me, the one who reported my brother-in-law Drake for molesting me. A family conference resulted, something I have long called the worst day of my life. During it as Drake talked his way out of any blame, he laid his hand on top of my head – and I absolutely froze. Then things went blurry. I seemed to be in a fog. so it was probably shock. For the next 50+ years I could still feel that hand on my head whenever this memory was triggered. Now I looked at this younger version of me and thought, “So, that’s where I went when I froze.”
Unknown on the Right
Next, a shadow figure emerged from the right side of the closet. Made of dark smoke it crawled on its hands and feet with its body stretched between. It looked like something out of a horror film and I thought I really should be afraid. But somehow I wasn’t because I understood it was another version of me. I just didn’t recognize this one. Another figure followed that one immediately and it was almost clear. I could only discern the outline but knew it was me again.
With these four shadow figures standing beside me – 2 on each side – I began to experience something that crossed the border into weird. It felt like I was putting something on. My neck and then my shoulders did this flex movement as though I was shrugging into a coat. I did that four times in quick succession. Then more figures began to join me from the right side of the closet. These shadows were so clear they were almost invisible. They were nothing more than a glimmer and so many I quickly lost count.
Gino and Me
Finally, it was just Gino and me and the wall had vanished, so I slid closer to the closet door. I reached out for Gino but she refused to budge. She exclaimed terrified, “No, she’ll get me!” My heart hurt because I knew that she meant our mother. I reassured her that Alva could not get either of us. Alva was gone forever. But the child Gino was still not willing to come. She told me that there were things I did not want to know in the closet, and if she came out so would they. I tried again to reassure her that it would be okay. I reminded her that she had been in the closet with them for all these years and she had survived, so I would too.
Finally, Gino stood, and after a bit more hesitation she walked to the closet door but stopped again. I had to reach into the closet, gather her in my arms and pull her into my lap. And there we sat for a while, with this child cradled in my lap while I comforted her. Then she silently melted into me, and for several moments all I felt of her was in my heart. Then she moved into my head. I can’t begin to describe how strange that was because Gino seemed to be looking around in total amazement and wonder, seeing the other things outside her closet for the first time. It was an incredible experience.
Clearing the Closet
Gino claimed there were other things in the closet, and she was right. I soon found 6 balls each slightly larger than a bowling ball. I smashed the first 4 balls easily. They were made of glass and filled with emotions such as anger and despair. I experienced the anger but the others just swirled and dissipated. The fifth glass ball released dozens of beautiful butterflies. I have no clue what that meant but they were lovely to look at as they fluttered away.
Finally, I came to the last ball in the very back of the closet. It was different. Made of heavy marble it quickly grew larger and heavier as I rolled it toward the light at the closet door. Getting it out of the closet was difficult, but breaking it was even harder. It had grown too large for me to toss it like the others so I set about trying to crack it. At last, a blow from a sledge hammer split it into two pieces. I was dismayed to find that it was filled with more balls, many more balls.
Sarah wanted me to make sure the closet was completely clear so that I could close the door before moving on. I had been rather nervous about entering the closet the first time, afraid that something in there would pull me in. That didn’t happen so this time was easier and I headed into the dark on the right side of the closet. I searched the floor and walls, then all of the clothes that were slapping me in the face. Finally, I decided there were no more objects or memories lurking in the closet so I stepped out and closed the door.
Open Space
Now that the closet was closed I found myself back in the open space in my mind. I’m not sure if everyone has one of those. I certainly was not aware of such a place until the EMDR therapy began. Now I go there with the start of each EMDR session. But before this it had been pretty dark so I couldn’t really see anything except the memory. I just had the sense of standing in a dark place as I focused on the memories I was processing. Now there was light and I could actually see the things around me.
Straight in front of me was the closed door to Gino’s Closet and angled off to the right of that was the storage container I used to store unfinished business at the end of sessions. Directly to my left was the door to my calming place. The wall that connected these items and defined this circular open space was gray, bumpy and looked exactly like brain matter. So did the floor under my feet. And in the center of this space sat the jagged, broken shell of that huge ball I had smashed.
I had previously realized that I had strayed into the realm of the strange with the opening of Gino’s Closet. I soon revised that. The things that came out of Gino’s Closet quickly bumped me right into the absurd.
