Bothered...

Have you ever undertaken a project only to discover part way through that it isn't to your liking and needs to be re-done? So it is with the Will I have penned. I am deeply bothered by something but cannot put my finger on its source. Anyone who knows me in the non-digital world will also understand that not being able to suss out a problem quickly is not a situation common to me. I do not appreciate agitation as a growth opportunity and no, I am not afraid of death. Loss, it seems, has been a hallmark, in my life and the last few years have driven the point home.

The last month or so has seen me emerging from dreams of people and childhood adventures long past and attempting to discover what has happened to the individuals involved. Since I do not recall the majority of my dreams and most nights do not even sleep well, these incidents have been a bit disconcerting as I wonder what has triggered them.

 My childhood spent abroad, afforded me a range of experiences beyond those of most people I encounter but was far from rosy. Adolescence, though slightly less bumpy, saw me turn inward. To this day, I wonder whether the fights, taunts and bullying of my childhood, assumed to be a normal rite of passage by parents at the time, could have been stopped. The quiet, somewhat aloof exterior, combined with a dark and sarcastic humor that saw me into my twenties before finding the first of three highly competent therapists brings me embarrassment when I recall my younger years. A high school friend remembered me as kind while another childhood friend of longer standing tells me that I always seemed less a kid and more a mini adult. I'm not sure either is completely accurate but, as the only kid in my house and one who spent more time with adults than with children, I tended to be more self-contained. I also nearly always felt out of place, a situation exacerbated by parental issues and limitations it has taken me half a lifetime to understand.

The woman I've become loves animals more than people, prefers the quiet of my room and a good book to superficial chitchat though I appear to converse easily when necessary, is generous to a fault, feels like an afterthought to remaining family and rarely sees any of them. I've also discovered that there are some, both in my family and outside, that I genuinely dislike and while I keep things cordial, prompt exits are the order of the day. I find it ironic that a step sibling with whom I have greater connection than blood relations cannot act on my behalf to execute last wishes as the laws of this ill-named paradise prevent that...

Until Next Time...