The Wish
There have been times over the years that I have seriously wished that I could step out of my life, walk away if you will, for a while, to ease the racket that overwhelms me in my mind. It’s not that I necessarily hate my life as it’s been or is, but rather it’s wanting to get in touch with the person inside. I became lost with the death of my mother in 1975, when I was 16 years old…and although I’ve come close to re-finding that person within, I’ve never fully made the complete trip because life, as it too often does, took over and some things, like this, were set on a back burner until….
When I had my breakdown in 2001, I wished as deeply as I could wish, that I could go away for a while to a Buddhist monastery to heal, to finish that long journey of discovery, and to step away from my life as it was, out of the person that I was, and start over…from the inside-out. Of course, it’s just a wish…one that I’ll never see become reality as I have no funds to get myself that far, and I’ll have to make due with seeing a therapist once a month or so.
I learned far too late that I have spent most of my life depressed, from the time I was a child of about 9. At that time, I was molested by an uncle, and was threatened to secrecy so that my parents never would know. Thinking back, it seems right…I remember being a solitary person, preferring being alone to the company of my mom or dad. When my mom was killed in 1975 by a drunk driver, that’s really when the depression buried itself deep into the core of me. From then on, through being raped, enduring marital rape, three failed marriages…well…things certainly never got better, and the debris dammed up inside of me until November of 2001 when it cut lose in a flood of tears and desperation.
When I had my breakdown in 2001, I wished as deeply as I could wish, that I could go away for a while to a Buddhist monastery to heal, to finish that long journey of discovery, and to step away from my life as it was, out of the person that I was, and start over…from the inside-out. Of course, it’s just a wish…one that I’ll never see become reality as I have no funds to get myself that far, and I’ll have to make due with seeing a therapist once a month or so.
I learned far too late that I have spent most of my life depressed, from the time I was a child of about 9. At that time, I was molested by an uncle, and was threatened to secrecy so that my parents never would know. Thinking back, it seems right…I remember being a solitary person, preferring being alone to the company of my mom or dad. When my mom was killed in 1975 by a drunk driver, that’s really when the depression buried itself deep into the core of me. From then on, through being raped, enduring marital rape, three failed marriages…well…things certainly never got better, and the debris dammed up inside of me until November of 2001 when it cut lose in a flood of tears and desperation.
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