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Thursday, May 15, 2014

Long is the way, and hard, that out of hell leads up to light...

When does it stop? The anger. The feelings of betrayal. When will the 8 year old little boy that lives inside me stop hurting? When will that 8 year old stop needing people to validate his sense of helplessness? When will the little boy inside me feel like the people who hurt him most, his parents, have suffered enough. When will I wake up and feel "OK," I imagine “normal” human beings feel? WHEN WILL I BE “OK?”

I may never be “ok,” in the sense most people think of. It’s a grisly truth, but it IS truth. I suspect I will never forget my childhood. I don’t think I will ever forget how I’ve felt betrayed and abused by my parents. Time can not be rewound. Life isn’t like typing this blog, where if I don’t like the way something goes I can delete it and make it different. As much as I sometimes wish I could change my childhood, I can’t. Perhaps it’s a foolish wish. 

Recently I’ve found myself coming to the realization that it’s approaching time for me to consider a different direction in life; to consider recognizing the past is the past, and as painful as it has been, life must go on. By continuing to subject myself to reliving the past, I’m effectively preventing a happy and meaningful future. A very dear friend said to me today:

“...just to find a way to be happy with yourself in the world the way that it is. When we die, that’s it. If we’ve spent the time fighting, we’ll just die tired, angry, and surrounded by chaos. I’d rather die happy, loved, and at peace.”

I’ve enjoyed wallowing in my own misery for far too long, and...misery loves company. I’ve aligned myself in the company of others who have similar pasts as mine, others who have suffered from years and years of brutal indoctrination. At one point it was therapeutic to be in the company of people who truly understood me, who understood the pain I was dealing with. But now it’s different. To remain in their company only fuels the fire. 

I have a wife and a son. I think my wife has suffered with me. My unhappiness and misery has most surely spilled over into her life, even if it’s not readily apparent. The ripples may be subtle, but they exist. That’s not fair to her, and my 6 year old son certainly doesn’t need to grow up in the same muck as I did. It’s time for change. 

I fervently believe religious indoctrination destroys minds. I remain adamantly opposed to fairy tale beliefs. This is a cause I continue to support, atheism. But at some point I have to take responsibility for my future and stop turning everything into a personal battle. It just doesn’t make sense anymore. My happiness and that of my wife and son must take priority. To put it simply, it’s time for me to have happy in my life. I’ve gone without it long enough.

This is when things change. I know there will be good days and bad days, but it’s time for a change. Where do I start? I don’t know. How about a positive memory? It’s been so long since I recognized that my childhood actually did have pleasant moments; I've spent every waking moment for years focused on the negatives that. When I was young, maybe 7 or 8, I was terrified at night time...lying in bed. Scared of the demons and monsters that might be lurking in the shadows ( I still fault my parents for these ridiculous and unnecessary fears, but no sense to relive it day after day after day) . There were times my mom let me sleep in her help me feel more comfortable. I remember how safe I felt during those times. She made me feel safe. As much evil as she was capable of, I remember the times she smiled. To this day I think she had one of the most genuine and beautiful smiles I’ve ever seen.

It has to start somewhere...

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