I'm not ashamed to share that I am being treated in a clinic - Day by depression. Serious family problems. At first I was resistant to treatment. In a Clinic - Day could help me? That's what I thought. But one day I combined with one of the psychologists who would make a drawing for a folder disclosure of a discussion group on mental health. Soon after I sang a little with one of colleagues and danced, I jumped during music therapy. I was rescuing the child, adolescent. I'm still looking to redeem myself by writing.
I was a "figure" as a child. Once I was in my room, I looked around and said, "It's all illusion!" On another occasion I said to my aunt who was from another planet and that a flying saucer would come for me. My aunt was amazed.
When I was eight I was sad to hear a conversation between adults about the damage to the environment. Shortly after I watched a movie about the life of Beethoven and decided to write a song. I sang a lot during the bath for isabele, who took care of me. But then just left this poem:
Meeting with nature
Singing to the sound of birdsong,
play around the cherry trees.
Nothing could get me out of the fields,
for I am a pioneer!
It's just a walk-broken verse, after all I was only eight. (Laughter) One year later I had my first creative crisis. I said to my mother: "I lost my inspiration!" The feeling I had is that the inspiration was something divine and had abandoned me.
I liked to sing, dance, draw, play theater. Sometimes I played novel, invented a story based on the Young Guard of time songs. Sometimes they asked me to sing. I was shown. The teachers probably thought I was expressive, uninhibited and so invited me to attend a play or to be a "choreographer" in a high school dance performance. After adolescence I became shy, probably because I started to get a sense of the ridiculous.
When I was a kid some boys liked me. I think I had remembered girl shine with two or three years old, he had a smile that could light up a room or an entire house. I also remembered that I was a beautiful girl when I was seven or eight years old: green eyes, healthy skin and hair, perfect nose and small, delicate ears, teeth that shone like pearls. I had big teeth and separated as Susan, but it was still a beautiful girl. (Laughter) I once looked in the mirror, I saw that beautiful girl, but I thought I had no right to find me beautiful, it was smaller than the other kids. (I am a carrier of Turner syndrome and so I am short and I can not have children. I have no other health problems beyond osteoporosis, due to the hormonal deficit.) What nonsense! But only after many years and much effort could have a better self-esteem.
So not everything was rosy. When I was two or three years I felt bored, anxious, worried about the future. Yeah, I have memories of that time, which is not very common. It seems crazy that such a small child to worry about the future? But I cared.
I had problems in preschool. As I was smaller than the other kids put me in a class of younger children. My parents then decided that I would change schools. I was a little hyperactive and did not want to do their homework straight, doodling and would play. Then a teacher told my mother that I had motor problems. I did an electroencephalogram and the result was normal. Again I changed schools. In the new school, I had tutoring and I think I even needed some individual attention. I started to have a school performance within the average.
During adolescence I went through a period of severe depression and started doing therapy. There were several therapists ... As I have noted previously, it took me many years to be able to better self-esteem.
I know I need to accept the child and adolescent, with his light and darkness. The girl and the girl I once was have much to offer me. And the adult has the ability to heal wounds, to offer love to herself, to care for themselves and bring light into the darkness.