Childhood Guilt

Early years of life is rough.

It’s funny when I think back on my childhood that most of what I recall are the terrible events or moments that occurred.  I wouldn’t say I had a terrible childhood, but why in the hell can’t I remember more pleasant moments that happened.  I brought this topic up at a recent therapy session because it was eating away at me, and actually making me feel guilty.  Feelings of guilt because I know my childhood wasn’t all trauma. So why can’t my brain negate those areas of hell, and be able to relive  happier  moments.  The reason is clear as day, your brain is storing this nugget of misery so you don’t repeat it! Ohh… That makes sense, but wait a minute, that means I’m going to have to deal with those awful feelings, and dig up emotions I buried years ago...DAMN’T! Welcome to therapy ladies and gents. 

The reason I wanted to lead with this issue is that guilt is such a heavy load that I carry daily.  No, my childhood wasn’t all sunshine and puppy dogs licking ice cream from my cone, but there were events that occurred that now as an adult I have to seriously address with the help of professionals.  For years I thought I could figure it out, and move the hell on with my life.  Well, I couldn’t, and now I’m cleaning up what appears to be a jar of spaghetti sauce that shattered on the floor.  A horrifying mess, but with the help of medicine, therapy, and paper towels all can be right again.

If I had to sum up my early years of life in one word I would choose uncertainty.  I asked myself that question as I am writing this, and took a very long pause to answer.  I chose uncertainty because that is what I lived with until I was about 17 or 18 years old.  Many nights I would be waiting to see if my dad was going to come home before midnight, or stay at the bar.  I was uncertain if my parents were going to stay married, or if I was somehow the culprit of mom and dads deteriorating relationship.  All of this was absolutely confusing to me growing up, and the only logical person to blame was myself. 

Being an only child in  my house did feel lonely, especially with my fathers drinking, my mothers worrying, and our family weathering a storm of unspoken personal demons.  In our family we don’t talk much about feelings, or emotions.  Our love is shown through jabs at one another, being quick thinking is a must at family gatherings.  A hug would be nearly unheard of in my family, and tears… someone is 100% deceased.  Finding out that they were a socially awkward family by going to various friends' family parties was eye opening.  Let me also note, I love my family. Sure, we don’t slobber on each other but our love is demonstrated with actions, not emotions.  

Let’s jump ahead quickly to current day, we’ll get back to the early years momentarily.  My life as I know it today is being there for my son.  My wife, son, and I recently moved back to our home state of Illinois after living in Florida for three years.  My better half is a school teacher, and my son is currently pooping in his diaper… he’s nearly 2 years old, seriously he’s great.  I have had roughly 900 jobs, ok that figure might be a little high, but I’ve had a lot.  Some jobs I liked, some hated, and some I probably should have held onto.  My point being I have never found something I have been enthralled in, nor had a job where I thought I made the slightest impact.  It’s a good feeling when a task is finally completed, that was done with your vision, hands, mind, and personality.  Doing a job no matter what it might be that has your heart, and soul dedicated to the work gives someone a sense of true purpose. This is something that I get to do for roughly 10 hours a day now while staying home with my boy.  Nothing in my life has come close to being this satisfying.  Writing this is up there too.  

There are many bridges we cross, experiences we have, and people that come into our lives that mold us into our current state.  Personally speaking my current state is roped off with a sign that reads FRAGILE. I remain a work in progress, but isn’t that all of what  life is, progress?  Some weeks, months, or years you transform in some ways for better or worse.  Life moves so fast, fleeting really, and it must be impossible to remain the same person as we drive further into our own lives.  

As a kid I was filled with self doubt.  I was not instilled with  the belief that the skies the limit, you can do whatever you put your mind to, go get em’ tiger! No, it was more along the lines of lets keep expectations in check, and you have to be extra smart to do so and so.  If I got excited about something I was basically kind of mocked, and said that’s not realistic.  Well, what the f**k am I supposed to do then is what I was left to wonder.  Obviously I’m to dumb to do anything of which I’m interested in.  Confidence was not encouraged in my childhood, shame and fear were a bigger part.  Being embarrassed came easily for me in many social situations.  Luckily I was the type of kid that got along with most everyone, but my self esteem was getting worse by the year.  High school, and college peering on the horizon, hoo boy… should be fun.  

Alright how’re we doing, you still with me?  Should we break for water, tea, ginger ale, crackers?  Am I presenting my life thus far in a logical timeline, or am I speaking gibberish?  Ok, if you're ready and willing to push forward I am as well.  Damn the torpedoes, full steam ahead.

**I will post more of this story. Thank you for reading.