Scars (3) (more of the original)

I guess that a lot of this comes up this time of year because of what the holidays used to entail.

I was thinking, earlier this month, that the reason why Sept. - Jan. was always so rough for me was because of being locked up during that time period. Spent most of last night's session talking about all of this. Won't get back to talk about it until January 6th.

Pisses me off that these people go on vacation. Even people who aren't head cases have trouble during the holidays. It's a damn shrink's office!!!! VACATION? NOW?!?!?!?

That's aside from the point though.

Spent the session talking about 8th - 9th grades... about how bad things got... about what was really important to me (my drums, GIRLS!, and my friends - who basically saved my life).

Talked about how the holidays usually went... the fights and humiliation... about how after 8th grade, I started "putting my foot down". (heh heh. I guess my invisiballs dropped.)

Music had a big part to play in my "awakening". I got a walkman for my graduation. Before then, I listened to a transistor radio that I had gotten from a family member's basement stash of "old things not being used". I would put it under my pillow to muffle the sound, or use an earplug. (One of those white ones, remember?) Anyway, thanks to Boy George, I found the courage to start standing up for myself. I owe that guy my life!

I got my brother a radio when he graduated 8th grade. It was a while before he really got into the music thing... but I guess I just wanted to give him something that might help him get through his own hell. I guess it was symbolic in a way.

Digressing again

Looking at the photos hurts. I have a few of them tucked away, as I said. The last pictures taken of me in a dress were from 8th grade graduation. From that point forward, one by one, I took things into my own hands, and as I did, my "parents", of course, responded by "punishing" me.

It was my loss. I didn't have the guidance I needed. My brother lost out not having me around. My sister lost out (and still holds a grudge) because of my leaving. Yes, I won in that I circumvented suicide, but 20 years later, I'm still trying to live.

I don't know how to be a "normal" guy, not because I don't have nuts to stuff into my jeans, but because at the age I needed guidance, my only source was Boy George and the street.