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Sunshine - And My Childhood Bedroom Window

Writer's picture: Rhonda RonsmanRhonda Ronsman

So I did it. I started drawing again. It is an app on my iPad, however, I do draw with a pencil, my lines, and my colors. It doesn't AI create anything. So comes this painting called "Sunshine."


When I was very young, I lived in the inner city of Milwaukee, WI. It was not a happy place at all, by any means. I have no good memories of living in that house. This would be the home where my abuse happened as a child.


When I went to bed at night, I was so terribly scared of everything. I was always afraid that something horrible would happen in the middle of the night. I would do all I could to stay awake, but I was unsuccessful most of the time. I'd wake up and cry and ask myself "What bad thing is going to happen today?"


One particular morning I woke up and I will never forget the feeling of the sun shining on my face. I had a horrible night of nightmares and a debilitating fear that seemed inescapable. My radio would go off at the same time every single morning and this particular morning, "Sunshine " from John Denver played.


I got up in my adult-childhood way. And I turned my face toward the window. I closed my eyes and just let the sun do what it does. Nurture. Provide warmth and safety from the cold. Help things grow. It wasn't anything in the Rhonda dramatic fashion I do things. I very simply lifted my head off my pillow, wrapped both arms around my bent knees, and just felt the sun while the song played.


And I did what I always do when my body tells me to. I just cried. Not out of sadness or fear or pain.


But because of hope.


Because the universe had allowed me THIS moment to feel human, and I embraced it. I chose to be vulnerable to it. I look back on that moment now and realize what a poignant thing it was. But at the time, I did not know that my mind and spirit were preparing me to be receptive to the good that exists - not in other people - not in accolades or affirmation. Not in the hope that someone's mind will be changed about me - not in the belief that people are responsible for making my world better - but the goodness and beauty that exists in me and the fact that the universe chose me THAT day, and could potentially do it every single day if I allowed it.


So, I woke up the next day after I painted and modified it. I added some snow and some Christmas lights. And I realized that I could change it and make it even more hopeful than it was then. This picture made me really happy. I imagined myself in my room, in the warmth of the heat coming from the vents, curled up in a blanket watching "It's a Wonderful Life" on my black and white knob-changing antenna television.


I added the time 7:56 in honor of my spirit friend, Chad Dermyer, who talks to me daily; and warns me about what to watch out for. Who helps me understand life in my dreams (he visits me all the time). Who gave me that wonderful sign that he is in my life with the serial number on my old Dexcom battery: 8XCHAD, which I still carry with me everywhere. I figured that the picture with the sun could be at 7:56 am, and the photo with the Christmas lights could be at 7:56 pm.


As you all can read and see, times for me are a-changin'. I'm not wrapped up in stories about my history that involve the pain and hurt from others, because in counseling - in realizing my PTSD diagnosis, this time is about the navigation tools I'm using to get from the abandoned, crappy side of the beach, through the storm, to calmer waters and more sun, understanding that sailing is not always going to be smooth. But it's those moments of listening to your gut and choosing to stay ashore, riding the waves and turning around, or barreling through the high winds and fury are all decisions that have to be made. It doesn't have to be all or nothing and IT IS OKAY. It is your journey.


The wonderful part of all this is the time I'm spending with myself. I'm starting to believe in this girl that I long did not believe in and who I beat up a lot, not with my fists, but with my opening the door to many who stood there waiting to abuse and hit. That door is closing, and right now all I can see are a few fingers and hands trying to get in. But, I've locked that room and am painting and redecorating another. There is still some old, nasty, moldy wallpaper that is hard to tear down. I used to feel that if I just walked away from that little girl I would be denying her the opportunity to tell her story (the little girl being me). But then I realized that I could grieve the loss, and know that all I'm doing is moving that little girl with me to safer harbors. She doesn't have to pull me back there anymore. Well, she can try...but I can just tell her to stand with me and move her out, instead of me choosing to go there.


I'm doing it. And eventually, I'll be able to see and feel that sunshine through that window again.


"And if I had a day, that I could give you; I'd give to you a day just like today." I used to think that those lyrics had to be sung to me by someone else.


Now, I realize I just have to sing it to myself and treat me with all the love, respect, care, and acceptance that I have longed deserved.


My Thanksgiving was wonderful:) I hope yours was too:)



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Wauwatosa, WI 53226

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