I may have already talked about this, but my childhood bullies cast a dark shadow in my life.
It likely started in 2nd grade. It ended in 6th grade. Not only was I an easy mark (shy, withdrawn, introverted, & autistic) but I was physically precocious. There was a sexual harassment aspect to the bullying. And THAT had multiple, devastating impacts for decades. Since the 2 bullies were boys, it rendered me emotionally hypersensitive to any type of innuendos from other boys and, eventually, other men...
• Even if I wasn't the target.
This directly contributed to both my first and my second psychiatric hospitalizations ... both voluntary. It also led to "Charles" (my childhood imaginary companion / "ghost") emerging as a full blown, alternate personality. It also precipitated my second, alternate personality's emergence ... which caught me by surprise.
By the way, I still have the audio cassette tape on which I recorded the second alternate's voice. You see, I was trying to record Charles. That's not who emerged, though. At the time, I had no name for this "new?" (and disturbingly childlike) personality.
Oh. By the way, my first 2 psychiatric hospitalizations, etc., happened some time — after — my honorable discharge from the United States Navy. And a long time before any "official" psychotic break. Problem: I was in Arizona and taking a commercial art course at the time. I ended up in the Maricopa Medical Center both hospitalizations.
Almost needless to say, my "love life" includes a number of emotional train wrecks. And a few nightmares. I'm over 60-years old now, and I'm still unsure if I should ever get married.
(1 of those "nightmares" includes Shriners Burn Institute, Galveston. The lesson that I never seem to master is underestimating the utter destruction "nothing" can rain down upon one's own head. A number that I may never forget is "84-80": 84% burnt, 80% third degree. There's an age attacked to that grim number: 5.)
[Note: it was my then girlfriend's son who was the burn victim. I am in no way asking for sympathy or absolution. What I did in response to this news is regrettable. It's what I — didn't do — that is utterly reprehensible. Hence, I offer no excuses and scant explanation.]
(While I was in no way at fault for those burns, I am someone who I hope my first "real girlfriend" never, ever thinks about. But if she ever reads this, then she'll know who wrote it.
(Part of this autobiography is me apologizing the only way that I can. I barely knew Patty Duke. My commission from her is nearly complete. But it's not her memory that compels me to write this book. Nor is she why I've included statements aimed at suicide prevention.)
***
Hmm. Perhaps having later gone insane was, in part, God's way of holding me to account. Perhaps not. This idea, believe it or not, is an icy, cold comfort right now.
No. I'm not the hero of my own story, and likely never will be.
Nowadays, I can jokingly call myself "a horrible person."
~•~
However, Comma: in the dark corners of my memory ... there is the haunting realization that ... Once Upon A Time ... it was a stone-cold, and ironclad, truth.
~•~
When I say of myself that I've been a sinner, a saint, and a heretic ... I'd be wise to remember just how true that assessment really is.
• And that it is in no ways a compliment!!
Nonetheless, I can't live in my memory's basement. There are too many spiders down there.
~•~
Another reason why I don't like bullies is because I myself have done some pretty mean things. Granted, a lot of people could confess to the same thing. I'm not unique in this regard. Even so, I have hurt some people in ways that I cannot take back, or even apologize for.
Even worse than actively being a bully is passively being a bully. Neglect can be quite pernicious, pugnacious, or even both. There have been times when I've been my own least favorite person.
Yet, I can change none of my past. Not what was done to me ...or... not done by me. Nor what I myself have done or neglected to do.
• There is no profit in beating myself up, as it were, for any of these things.
****
Conclusion:
I have survived. And, to the extent that it even matters, I do apologize for a great many things. Especially for what I can't remember anymore.
YOU ARE READING
A Bridge Over Troubled Waters
EspiritualDear Reader: You are precious, priceless, and irreplaceable. In the entire history -- of the entire universe: In the history of all Eternity... There has been, and ever will be, only one you. Herein are opinions, observations, and things autobiograp...
