Up to now

There's something about investigating your personal ethics and spirituality that makes you start to dig deeply into your life. For me, a lot of that's unpleasant. In fact, the bulk of it is. My childhood was a literal torture, and that set me up for a lifetime of feeling inadequate, scared and very, very angry. I have a lot of the angry pessimist in me. I know I set myself up to have negative things happen to me, mostly because negative things have made up the bulk of my life up to now.

Or, well, negative things have gotten the most attention with me. My life hasn't been without positives. I have three positives under my roof in the form of the three fruits of my loins. And, okay, they're not always the most positive creatures on earth. Some days my teenager makes me question what the hell I was ever thinking, but overall the three of them have some pretty amazing qualities. I just have trouble recalling them from time to time.

The marriage I wrote about a few days ago. Paul and I have been together forever. Twenty two years or so now. Eighteen married and four or five dating/engaged. We got married at the incredibly young age of 23. I'd hit the roof if any of my own children even mentioned the "m" word before at least 28, but look how young I was. Oy.

It wasn't even so much that we were too young to get married, though we were pretty young. It was more that we were too emotionally immature, too lacking in strong life skills to have taken such a momentous step. Neither of us had the best models of marriage in our homes, me way more so than him. I had the incredible obstacle of enduring a torturous childhood, too, without benefit of any sort of counseling or help for it. And it wasn't that help hadn't been offered, but due to the circumstances I wouldn't, or couldn't, take advantage of that offer.

It was naive of us to think life would be smooth. It's been the total opposite, very, very rocky. Every step along the way has been fraught. Nothing was ever easy, or even natural. It's all been a long, hard struggle.

So, naturally, it eventually hit the boiling point. For the past year it's been a roller coaster ride as we both hit the point at which we knew this couldn't continue on this way. But even with that, there was struggle. The resolution hasn't been easy, but now at least the roller coaster ride appears to be finished. But still, it hasn't been ended long enough for either of us not to feel that little twinge of fear we could be put back on it at anytime. That'll take a while longer.

No wonder, at this point in my life, I'm taking serious stock. I hit 40 with hardly a quiver, and it's still not age that's the issue. That's moot, aside from the increasingly annoying notice of little signs like sprouting grey hairs, the tendency to fall asleep a lot easier, and a few aches and pains I didn't have before. The issue is finally having the courage to look back and deal with things, to hold people accountable for the things they've done and to admit my own failures, too. Then, the look ahead, pondering what I'm going to do with the past, how I'm going to use it to propel me into the future and if I can find some way to twist it so there are positives to be found.

Because there are positives to everything, even if they're extremely difficult to see. For me, I have a very rich interior life, a true appreciation for the beauty of art in many forms, and a great love of reading and writing. Having to turn inside for solace the way I did, I in many ways created that framework for myself. It may not have been right why I was forced to do so, but the point to take away is that I did. So in that way I did make a positive of a negative. I turned my need to find safety and comfort into an enriched life of the mind, albeit at a very high cost.

From here on it's what I make of it. It's actually what WE make of it, though I maintain my own very strong separate identity, and vow always to do that. At 41 going on 42 I think it's time I stop carrying childhood baggage, or at least lighten it to the lightest carry-on bag I can. Up 'til now it's been a huge travelling trunk, strapped to my shoulders and virtually padlocked in place. But I've been sawing on those straps, picking at the lock. Enough is enough.

The rest is mine, dammit! My childhood may have largely claimed half my life, but the last time I checked I still had a pulse. I may not have 41 years left, but whatever there is will be walked with a lighter load.

It's the positive among all the negatives. The very best I can do. And it'll be good enough, hard fought as it's been.

Thus begins the journey that is Part II of my life.