COMFORTABLY NUMB

bm

Set
Set, what a wonderful thread. Thanks for starting it. Your history confirms why you are one of my favorite A2Kers---your life experience is inspiring.

I immediately liked Shewolf when we met in Albuquerque last month. She is a real person, not phony like so many you meet. Other than her personality, her adorable child and wonderful husband, what I like most about Shewolf is her determination to give her daughter a better life than she had. She is a fantastic mother. Plus, she is really funny.

As for myself, I won't repeat the traumas of my early life as many of you already know of some of them. I've known people who would let such trauma destroy their lives or use them as excuses for dysfunctional adult behavior. I was raised during the Great Depression when everyone I knew was poor, so I didn't feel poor. Had just enough food, had just enough clothing, had just enough shelter. Had just enough, I guess.

I tried to create a better life for my children than I had. I'm proud of my children and love them dearly. They love me back, what more can you ask for---except the love of my two dogs, Maddy and Dolly---and my friends.

BBB

I'm paraphrasing a line that I wish I could quote accurately and give credit to the author:

[/QUOTE]It's impossible to be born on the wrong side of Morning Glory Lane.

Re: COMFORTABLY NUMB

Hungry no, lonely yes, homeless no, broke no.

A. woulda scored 4 outa 4 there. <nods, in respect. Thats some survival skills there.>

Respect to you too, Shewolf.

Funny, I also was with this Polish girl some time, whom Im sure woulda 'scored' the opposite to me: yes to homeless, hungry and broke, but never to lonely (tho I might be wrong even on that one). She made it big I think, relatively speaking (with an eye to where she came from) - doing some NGO work for a bigshot organisation in Transcaucasia. Crazy tho. Cant blame her.

I have lived a blessed life, the only tragedies being the loss of so many friends.

Car accidents, plane crashes, suicides, AIDS, military death, industrial accidents, heart attacks, cancer, the list goes on and on.

All too young.

<takes off hat for all the other posters in the thread as well>

bm

You're an amazing person, Shewolf. As are you, Set and many of the others who have posted their stories.

I grew up poor, very poor, dirt poor. My father was an alcoholic and spent whatever income he earned and much of what my mother earned on booze. We were often hungry and we were all judged as inferior because of who he was and the rags we wore. I don't know if social services were available at the time, or if my mother was simply too proud to utilize them, but we never had any outside help.

I was the youngest of 4 children. My mother was 40 years old when I was born. Although my mother loved me deeply, I grew up sensing I wasn't wanted, a mistake, just another mouth to feed. I was reading another thread on Relationships about an unexpected pregnancy and realised that in today's world I would probably have been aborted. It makes me sad.

We were never homeless, although we were thrown out of our home for not paying the rent. By then my oldest sister had moved out and my brother was in Viet Nam so we could move into a smaller place. We moved again to another part of the state when I was 12 because my father found work there. My mother took a job as a librarian at the university library. Because of her employment status I was able to attend tuition free. I made good grades in school and was accepted 'early decision'.

I've never looked back. My father eventually stopped drinking. I was living on my own by then and never formed a real relationship with him. I did not cry at his funeral. I adored my mother. She was my rock, best friend and confidant. Other than staying in a horrid marriage, she could do no wrong in my opinion. Noddy reminds me a lot of her.

I've been lonely, very lonely, but I've never considered suicide. I was so deeply affected by being judged that I don't get close to too many people. I have many acquaintances, but few friends. I still keep my walls up.

As an adult, I've been blessed. I have a wonderful husband, two great children, a lovely home, and rewarding work. I am nationally known in my field of work and will be co-author in an upcoming New England Journal of Medicine article.

I try hard never to judge others. I was given an opportunity to go to school and was lucky enough to have a good brain. I remember how hard it was being poor and I give as much as I can to the social action groups in my church and community.

Thanks for starting this thread, Set. Putting all this in writing is somehow cathartic.

J_B--

Thank you for the kind words. I hope I can live up to your opinion of me.

You are very welcome J_B. My profound respect goes to The Lupine Queen, Our Invaluable Edgar and the Persevering J_B for having made so much from so little. They all stand head and shoulders above me, and so many others here--i hope they will all get the respect here that they are due.

They've always had my respect.

Hungry, lonely, homeless, broke, suicide - in no particular order.

I've been close to some of these, some more than others.

Hungry only in the sense of not knowing if I could pay my mortgage several times, but I could always pay it by credit card advance. (gasp, sooo very much the wrong thing to do, and I've done it more than once).

Most of the time when I was a child was iffy financially, even though when I was under ten there were some fully middle class periods. But over time, we only lucked out in that we had been prosperous once in a while, and rode that few months into the ground each time, sometimes excruciatingly, over a year or two. Among other things, my parents tried to keep up insurance and union dues - my dad was early involved with the film editors union, and there were weeks accumulating to years of not a lot of food around. In the end there wasn't insurance, except my dad's 10,000 from the VA.
Not real hunger as set means it, though.

Both of my parents died stunningly sadly. My mother had alzheimer's when that wasn't really understood, and wandered, sometimes for miles, before I caught on and had to get conservatorship to keep her in a locked facility. My father was in a psychiatric ward when he had a heart attack, and was transferred to the VA ICU. My mother and I were visiting him after he was transferred from ICU to the reg ward, and he wasn't there. Oh, the nurse said, he died.

Homeless, no, though I can envision it in my future now, just not immediately. (I have no pension... only, heh, social security.)



Broke, not as Set means it. Way in debt because of poor choices, yes.

I was sort of primed for tolerance to varying income, and chose to marry a guy for love and interest - interesting was really important to me - instead of any income increase... he wasn't a complete opportunist, but I was the one earning, such as I earned, much of the time. When we did divorce, I didn't look for alimony in fear it would be me paying it, me with no bucks.



Lonely, off and on. I was raped at 22 and had a child from that occasion, and was very alone in the decisions that followed (adoption). I still don't talk about it, and don't intend to here.

By thirty I had been in love a few times, and on my thirtieth birthday I was hopelessly in love with a fellow who alternately was there and wasn't. Some here will remember I've talked about a fellow who turned out to be gay. That was 1971, a time when few "came out". I have posted that he was my best lover, and in many ways that's true, he was an amazingly sensitive lover, and in many ways a wise person. But... he didn't tell me. He tried, I remember now when he tried to and I didn't get it.

After that I spiralled into what was already going on in the early seventies, sexual freedom. That lasted about eighteen months, two years, and - as I've mentioned elsewhere, is nothing I am apologetic about, except perhaps to one or two of the fellows, who were mostly good enough humans. That, looking back, was very lonely period, masked by a kind of hysteria of need.

edit - hysteria is hyperbole. Much of it wasn't a version of hysteria, but fun. Still, I look at it now as me needing to feel alive.

And then I retreated into just things I wanted to do, having to do with work and an art gallery I was partner in, and then I met my husband.

That didn't work out, but it took 23 years not to.
I was screamingly lonely when we failed, wildly angry, mad with confusion.
I walked twenty or so miles a week for months, talking to myself, when not working.

I got the house, he got his - already his - inheritance, which were about equal, given that the house was double mortgaged, and I didn't go for alimony. Simple divorce. I'm not sorry it was simple, as by now, years later, we can talk. But that was a lot of years to not build up savings and investments, based on unrealized hopes.

I had to sell the house. It is now worth close to a million. This is another subject I'd rather not talk about. I did actually wail for a couple of miles in the car as I drove away from it for the last time.

I moved north. I've been happy here, with the gallery and the design office, but it isn't the smartest place to have such businesses. Not all that much income to split with my business partner.

I haven't been so alone now as I was back in that early 60's decision time, as I have friends.

I have never been suicidal. I think that may be chemical, and no virtue of mine.

I am lucky in that - I hope I hope - the real estate bubble lasts another month or two, as I have equity that will give me some money. If not, hello **** creek.

These are down points. Oh, yeah, and the eyes and the breast cancer.

Actually, I'm fine and happy. I can hardly begin to enumerate the many things that give me joy, the many people that give me joy, the richness of life around me as I walk and drive and live - well, that's another post.

Good reading. Some startling revelations, but won't pry where prying is clearly not wanted.

When I was in high school, slowly going deaf and not particularly happy about it, my best friend said, "You're lucky. You have a reason you're so unhappy. You have a thing to overcome."

She was right.

I think we all have these capabilities to a varying extent, but those capabilities are often not fully tested. It's like we're walking on a tightrope and there is darkness below and we don't know how far the fall will be. If we're roughly pushed off the tightrope, and we fall and fall and then boom, there's a net after all, we jump back up on the net and scamper along, because we know that even though the fall is scary, it's OK. There's a net. (Whether the net is internal resources, or an external support system, or having a good mind, or happening to have a great teacher -- there are many kinds of nets, and of course, not everybody has them.)

For those who never fall, that darkness is always looming. How far? How deep? What will happen? Will this next step be my last?

Because it's damn hard to leap, I'm glad I was pushed.

Darkness, darkness, be my pillow,
Take my hand, and let me sleep.
In the coolness of your shadow,
In the silence of your deep.
Darkness, darkness, has me yearning,
For things that cannot be.
Keep me my mind from constant turning,
Toward the things it cannot see,
Things it cannot see,
Things it cannot see.

Darkness, darkness, long and lonesome,
As the day brings the pain.
I have found the edge of stillness,
I live in the depth of fear.
Darkness, darkness, be my blanket,
Cover me with endless night,
Take away the pain that flows away,
Fill the emptiness with bright,
Emptiness with bright,
Emptiness with bright.

Darkness, darkness, be my pillow,
Take my hand, and let me sleep.
In the coolness of your shadow,
In the silence of your deep.
Darkness, darkness, be my blanket,
Cover me with endless night,
Take away the pain that flows away,
Fill the emptiness with bright,
Emptiness with bright,
Emptiness with bright.

I take issue with Set about one thing. He stands much taller than I, in my not too humble estimation.

My thanks to Osso for her idiosyncratic confessional . . . i do greately appreciate it. Thanks to Gus for the Jesse Colin Young, i've always like him . . .

Thanks to Soz, who has told me as much before, and i know that's a personal matter, so i appreciate her expression of it.

EB is too, too kind. I thank him, and will let it rest.

My mother wanted me to be a perfect little doll. My father wanted me to be his mistress. Took a long time to be able to see someone of worth under my skin, always thinking there was only emptiness, but I finally got there. The details of course, I could never speak. But I got there. All of you have my admiration.

Soz, you are soooo right. If we dig deep enough, it is surprising what we can find that will help us make it through. I didn't think that I would post on this thread, but I think it is healing to know that so many had next to impossible burdens and hurdles.

One thing I learned long ago is to never take anyone for granted.

Diane, friend, that hummingbird is touchingly representative of you to me. Go, Girl.

We truly know each other, don't we? Craziness can be a useful marker for the closest friendships.