July 10, 1982

Thursday, July 10, 2014

There are still moments when I find myself laughing a bit as I contemplate the fantastic delusional thinking I once so frequently engaged in…and didn’t fully realize I was doing so.  Once upon a time I believed that I could actually successfully convince some of my father’s siblings of the validity of my belief that my father has some very deep darkness in his heart…or soul…or both.  I’ve given up on that futile quest…finally.

Being completely estranged from your own family of origin is no easy matter.  I wish I felt there could be another viable way to relate to my paternal family of origin…but there simply isn’t…at least not right now.  And it seems that will never change.  Now I must find my way through the grief that I imagine is such a predictable result of utter estrangement that I think it can also be expected to consume you…at least for a while.  Some days I feel as if my grief is consuming me.  Other days I feel fairly good.  Every day is a new experience.

I found myself feeling very aware of my sadness and grief as I left work today…on July 10, 2014.  In the moments of relative quiet I can enjoy as I wait for the bus I find it easy for my mind to drift to thoughts of 1982.  Sadness has been an omnipresent aspect of my daily affect for some time now.  At least a lot of the anger is finally gone.  But I feel very sure that much of the sadness is sadness never acknowledged or fully felt from long ago.

I often feel sad when I contemplate the summer of 1982 when I was an eight-year old boy.  Why can’t I recall more of that time period?  I tend to suspect I cannot recall it because there was so little about the period that was worthy of remembering.  I can finally remember that I felt a lot of fear that I would die before the age of nine.  I feared that my former stepmother or one of her friends might attempt to harm my father…or me.  It’s not fun to recall that feeling of pervasive dread from that period but at least I have been able to recall more than I have previously.

As I waited downtown to transfer onto my second bus I noticed a woman standing nearby who was apparently blind.  She was listening to a message near the bus stop that informed her of upcoming bus arrivals.  Noticing her apparent blindness caused me to remember how last summer I drew the tarot card of blindness shortly after my return from Germany.  I think back on that moment now and feel it was a hint of a theme that was to emerge in this past year…namely the blindness people can adamantly maintain when they simply cannot deal with issues that are very painful to confront.

I am no longer suffering from a form of psychic blindness.  I see quite clearly now.  It’s still amazing each day when I awaken and see the world around me with such clear vision.