The People Behind My Eyes

I drew an outline of the doll on the material then cut her out and sewed her. Since I have a history with needles I had to sew her up right to the top of the head then stuff her. I couldn’t sew the body then add the arms and legs because it felt like I was putting needles in the hands of a child… of a little me. I have a very difficult time separating myself from dark coloured dolls. Putting a needle into the hands or feet of the doll is too much so I have to find another way to put her together. I found it easier to do less cutting and to only have to turn her inside out and put the stuffing in through the head. I then wound yarn, put it in the open part, doubled it and sewed it in. For some reason I was able to stay grounded while doing that.

I knew where the needle was at all times. It never touched the floor where it could possibly get lost and find it’s way into to souls of my feet. I stuck my hand a few times but it was manageable. When it happened a few times someone inside said, “I don’t like the feeling of needles in my hands.” That sounds rather strange to say but when being beaten the mother would say, “Does this feel good?” My expected reply, “This feels good mommy.” So when someone inside said, “I don’t like the feeling of needles in my hands” it was rather healing.

Like I said, I knew where the needle was at all times but for hours after I put her down I walked on my tip toes worried that somehow it came out of the sewing box and got lost in the carpet. The grandmother put sewing machine needles in the carpet as well as stick pins to teach us not to go without shoes in the house. When we got them in our foot she layed us down and ripped it out. When we got up in the morning we immediately slipped into shoes but house shoes don’t protect you from sewing machine needles in the roof of your mouth nor on the souls of your feet.

Needless to say, sewing can be very triggering for me. So why do I do it? Because I think I should be able to hem a pair of pants without crying. I want to do everyday things like put a button on pants without tearing up. So I work on the fear slowly and try to manage it so that the everyday things others do can be “just” an everyday thing for me too. This is another one of those PTSD things I need to neutralize so that my entire life is not dictated by fear.

About a year or so ago I decided to wash a pillow of mine. During the spin cycle the stitching on the pillow burst leaving me a washer full of stuffing. I kept the stuffing…. dried it first though Someone gifted to me several very special softies that I absolutely adore. I knew when I saw them I had to try doing something like that. There was no way on earth I’d be able to do the kind of detail that’s on the softies but I still wanted to try something like it. The inspiration to sew started there. My fear is very strong though so I had to wait to start trying. Then awhile ago a dog I fostered totally destroyed my Lazy Boy. Before I threw it away I took the stuffing (what was left of it) out of the arms and the top, compressed it and saved it for doll making. All in all I’ve got enough stuffing for about 5 more dolls. I find it relaxing when I can let go. Dare I say I’m stitching myself back together?

Austin’s August <– constantly in bare feet

Dolls Needles and Recovery -Monday, July 28, 2008-11:51AM EST