Padding Along

Been a while since I’ve last updated here.  Lots of stuff has happened in the interim, believe me.

Spent the last two weeks trying to piece-together what I can remember of my lonely existence during my formative years in San Diego.  Reading more on chakras, energetic interactions, and behavioral characteristics has been helping me in this endeavor, and I feel as if I am finally pulling the scabs back a bit and letting the cold air under the dead skin.  It’s not an easy process by any stretch of the imagination, and I wouldn’t wish this kind of internal turmoil on anyone, but this is not only necessary, it’s down-right mandatory at this point.  Nicholas and I have fought our fair share of fights, and both of us have agreed to some extent that my issues are deep-seated and have been in need of some release and relief for some time.  It’s interesting how only now I can begin working through those issues with pencil, paper, and my own cognitive abilities bolstered by the addition of new insights delivered via electronic books.

By tearing-apart my childhood and examining the bits that have not yet escaped my introspective inner-eye, I have begun to understand the various reasons why I behaved the way I did and why I continue to do so to this day.  My parents, while loving, had no idea what to do with me.  What I mean by this statement is that my parents had no idea what they could do with me that would engage my passions, and engage the whole of my soul.  Like many parents, when confronted with an unknown or novel experience outside the bounds of their previous experiences, they shrink from the challenge and leave their children to swim on their own as best as they can.  It does no good to cast recrimination from the perspective of the past, but in many ways I wish that my parents had been more confident, more willing and able to challenge me academically and ask me if I could do better.  I wrote creatively during that time, and I could have done great things during that time, of that I have no doubt.  I also could have been a better rock-climber by asking my parents if I could climb and perhaps have them climb with me… but I was too afraid to.  The validation was not present.  Alas, that time has long-since passed, and I am doing my best to make up for it now and make it right to myself.

I realize now that besieged by both perceived social inadequacy as well as institutionalized disconnection within the educational system I inhabited, I retreated into my thoughts and into video games.  In video games, I could be anyone, anything, anytime.  No one cared who or what I was, what kind of person I was outside of the avatars I inhabited, or cared about my life at all.  It was a perfect diversion at the time from the emptiness I felt.  I made few friends, and the ones I did have were precious commodities to me.  I learned slowly not to expend their patience or their confidence without reason.  I’m glad I survived that time in my life to get to where I am now… though, I am filled with a kind of regret for the opportunities that were not taken earlier in my youth.  For not reaching-out in full faith and truth, for not saying “I’m sorry” enough (and meaning it), and for not internalizing the truth that everything I was experiencing was transitory in nature; none of it would matter in 5 years’ time.  The people I had known then would become entirely different people after the fact, after reality had set-in and after high-school had taken its toll… the education system took its tolls on all of us.

There is a great deal of pain that lies sub-dermal, like a swift-running aquifer.  Pain at what never was, pain caused through fear, and pain from perceived failure.  If I could go back in time, and confront myself… I wouldn’t betray any of what was to come, because being where I am now, I wouldn’t trade a single atom’s worth of it for anything.  There have been lessons learned and truths won at great expense in emotional and physical battle, and it would be a tragedy for those lessons and truths to have been all-for-naught.

No–instead, I would go back in time to when I was merely the youngest of teenagers, the weakest and most frail-looking lad you’ve probably ever laid eyes on, and hug my younger self as if he were the absolute last thing in the universe that I could save.  I’d tell my younger self that everything would work-out in the end, that there is a light at the end of the tunnel, and that all the pain and suffering will be worth it.  That it’s not womanly to cry, that it is not a travesty to share one’s feelings, and that help is there for those that ask of it.  I would tell my younger self to breathe deep, reach out, grasp the next rung, and step lively… there’s much more to be done than to lie in self-ruination and despair.  There’s a whole world out there… so get the fat off of your ass, and get going.

I think that’s all I really was looking for, really.  Some kind of validation.  Validation that those summer vacations spent alone in my room for years weren’t spent in-vain, that I wasn’t the only one of my kind, and that I meant something to someone… that I could be anything and do everything that I’d ever dreamed of if I put my mind, body, and soul into it.  Validation that I was, am, and always will-be a valuable human being to someone, and that I needed not weep for something that was not lost.

Maybe that’s what the dreams were all those nights ago… all those different visions of guardian animals in my sleep.  Maybe they were just different visions of me in different stages of my own life.  Lost children as the wolf pack coming together to protect the one most in-pain, the willful and spirited young man as the wild horse running through the longest plain, the hero/defender figure as the bear and cub that came to me and encircled me to bring me comfort.  Maybe these were just what I needed, just what I’d hoped would come to me externally… when all I needed to do was look within and find it in myself.

Many things to think about.  Many wounds that are open to the universe, and a lot of poison that must be drawn from them in order for this black heart to heal and glow again.  I am glad that I am not alone in this… I am thankful in many, many ways to Nicholas for standing-by me and being the stern and wonderful man that he is.  I could not have asked for a better partner upon which to rely, and I still cannot conceive how wonderfully blessed I have been to have him as a friend and lover.

Somebody up there still likes me.

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