Ain’t The Brain A Funny Thing?

I am the new Sanitation champion at work.
It is not as fancy as it sounds.
Basically I audit the departments for cleanliness, sanitation, documentation etc. before the outside auditor comes in.
This is to ensure we pass.
I am the 👀👀 catching the no no’s before the big 👀👀👀’s come in.
Saturday I was explaining to the women in one department that our ppm (parts per million) was 200.
They were shocked.
Had been told it was okay to be up to 400.
I said no it has always been 200 going all the way back to when I worked in the seafood department.
I showed them the paper and noted that the 400 was in the spray bottles in Ontario.
Which lead to why on earth is it on there?
Who knows?
I told them no biggie we caught it and can fix it.
I even said it is entirely possible to blank right out.
Reading it as 200-400 ignoring/not seeing the bit about Ontario and spray bottles.
They looked at me skeptically.
As if this was possible.
So I shared this story with them:
Last Tuesday while sitting waiting to be called to have T registered I am staring at the Red and Yellow lines on the floor.
I am trying to find the green line.
The sign in front of me says please stay behind the green line until you are called.
I was so confused.
There was no green line.
After being registered we sat down again until we could be triaged.
The sign there says please stay behind the YELLOW line until you are called.
I then turn to look at the other sign again which reads:
Please stay behind the RED line until you are called.
Which makes way more sense then green.
Then yesterday I am standing at the deli counter waiting to get my customer’s order.
There are t.v.’s playing in each department with ideas and new items for that area.
Idly watching the screen my eyes are not really paying attention until I get to cursed meat.
My eyebrow shot right up and I am trying like hell to figure out why we are offering up cursed meat.
Another looked rendered the word into cured.
I laughed.
So damn hard.
Could you imagine:
I’ll take 20lbs of cursed meat. The mil is coming for supper tonight.
🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
©July 6/22
Picture via Free Pinterest

My Secret Brain

I am still surprised at how my brain continues to protect me from things I may not be strong enough to confront.
I have been lucky in being able to have confronted my demons and casting them from my being.
However just because I have does not mean that I am aware of all the damage that truly has accrued given my brain’s propensity for protecting me.
You might wonder what the heck I am talking about and I will explain.
I have had the limited series The Keepers from Netflix on my To Watch list.
About the death of a nun in 1969 and what happened and why.
Watched the first episode or two and found myself drawn in.
Cried when the brother of another murdered young woman told how he had identified his sister where she lay to save his parents the burden.
To this day that is the last memory he has of her.
I cannot even fathom the level of pain that they are still carrying around.
I believe it is episode three (I could be wrong I was letting it play as I wrote and read) when there was the introduction of another woman and what had happened during this time period for her.
I first realized I had missed something when I came back to ‘he would call me a whore and pray over me as they did things to me and I to them.’
Whoa okay so I rewind and begin again.
Wait what how did I miss that again?
Rewind again.
And again how did I miss what is going on.
Fourth time I got to where it took her five tries to walk to the confessional and again realized I was missing something pertinent.
Fifth time ‘If I had never gone to confession that day.
This is my 6th time rewinding and I put down the phone.
I set the laptop down.
I focus on the t.v. and watch.
In this segment the woman is telling how she had been sexually abused by an uncle.
He was a pedophile.
After telling the priest about the abuse and the lingering guilt that she-the victim-was carrying around he asked to see her and know her name.
She was horrified thinking that this was such a grievous sin he had to actually put a face and name to what was suppose to be anonymous confession.
No he was a classic abuser but I see that given what I know and I am an adult watching a young woman who believed and trusted that the priests in her life were there to care and help her not use her abuse against her.
We are talking 1969 when people still observed all the catholic tenets.
It was the last sentence she made as in the recreation she was walking away from the confessional.
‘He told me that he was going to have to pray on this. That it was such a large sin that he did not know if god could forgive her.’
This is where I stopped the show.
I will go back eventually but I realized what was going on.
I was brought up catholic.
I was brought up to believe in the all powerful god who watches over and subjugates us to terrible pain and suffering to gain his love.
I was brought up to believe that one did not question the men who taught us the word of the lord.
I was 14 when I lost faith.
I was 14 when I ran away from home because I did not know how to cope with what I was going through.
I was 14 when my world began to turn.
I was 45 before I was able to set those demons to rest.
And I no longer believe.
I cannot put faith or trust in a being that we are taught to fear and blindly follow.
We are taught that these abusers are handpicked by god to be his mouthpiece.
This is not a rant against religion.
This is about my brain protecting me.
It only happens that the show I am watching contains religion due to the subject matter.
I had three days of torturous hell when I broke.
Or my mind broke.
Or the barrier I had erected fell down.
One single act was all it took and memories returned.
Not all but enough that I knew what happened to me.
I finally understood truly that vile voice in my head that said no one cared.
I finally was able to understand why I was killing myself with OTC muscle relaxants.
I finally was able to put my pieces back together after so many years of running and hiding from my truth.
What I do not know is the extent.
My brain is one of the most secretive and protective in the world.
But I am okay with that vault in my mind that has been drenched in concrete/chains wrapped around/dropped into an abyss with like a gazillion locks protecting me.
Because as I have said time and time again this is protection that keeps me safe and sane.
And for that I tip my hat to my brain which knows me better then I know myself.
©November 8/20
Picture is my own
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