It is said that most people with P.T.S.D. don’t believe in gods. Psychiatry doesn’t know why this is, they just know that it is. My god is an amethyst and was raised from the ground.
I don’t pray to it or worship it. It’s a rock. It does excite me and inspire me. I don’t know why, but I do know when it started.
I was a small child. Mother was showing me her jewelry. I was taken in by all the sparkle and glitter.
She pulled out the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. She saw me light up. It was a clear purple stone on a gold chain. I needed to touch it and she let me hold it for a little while. I studied every facet of this amazing stone.
As she put it away, she told me that she would give it to me someday when I was older. I never forgot. I asked about it a few times over the years, and was always told that I wasn’t old enough yet.
As I grew older and became an adult, I started realizing what a sick woman Mother was.She told me that she had never wanted me. She said she would hate me for the rest of her life. She was cruel and jealous. I started searching in the desert for purple stones. I bought a few amethyst necklaces and hung them on the wall so I could look at them all the time.
In the desert I found many exciting rocks but never amethyst. I’m still looking. I have become an avid rock hound. I am fascinated with geology.
The last time the necklace was mentioned she said she had taken it to an appraiser and found that it was worth a tidy sum of money. She said she hadn’t realized that when she promised it to me.
Now I suppose that it will be left to my brothers wife. The one that still goes to church.
I hope it does because I no longer want Mother’s amethyst. I no longer want any memories of her in my life. I don’t own any gold jewelry. I don’t have much jewelry at all. I just don’t wear it. I’m not sure why. Mother wears lots of jewelry. It’s always gold.
I like to hang silver necklaces on my walls. Silver with amethysts.