Settling In (or Frustration As A Way of Life)

First off I don't want anyone to think that my entire childhood was overwhelmingly depressing and without joy. I just happened to have one of those personalities that seemed to be overshadowed by "everything".

I was, and still am, a shy, sensitive individual. Mostly I remember my youth being filled with worry and doubt and much lacking of self-confidence. Of course, it seems to me that people usually remember the high's and low's of their life. For me though, the lows overshadow the high's.

Here I was, ten years old. The oldest of 4 children. A mother who seemed quite annoyed with my presence all the time - except when needed to do housework or babysit my sisters. And, as the other children grew older, they seemed to present a much different personality than mine. They were more outgoing, more self-confident and much more vocal and assertive than I. All of which made me more self-conscious about all the things that I was sure my personality lacked. I was never sure of myself - which became a daily torture to my ego.

Aside from all the nasty stuff my mom seemed to be feeding me (eg. if the kids misbehave, it's your fault), I did have some wonderful times. We had moved to a new house where we were surrounded by woods. And the neighborhood was full of children. All about the same age. Some pretty strong bonds were formed......bonds that would eventually be broken and would make my heart break. But, I did love those summers and school vacations where we would be up at the break of dawn and out playing (dragging the little one's along) until the sun went down.

We made up terriffic games and actually the neighborhood kids loved coming to my house. We didn't have a big yard, it was very, very small. But, grass never seemed to grow much because of all the feet running and jumping and swinging from the huge front maple tree. We climbed that tree everyday. It was my friend and my comfort when there was no one to play with.

My parents eventually cut that tree down, saying it was a danger to the house should a storm knock it down. I can remember being so afraid for the tree and when I heard the saws cutting away at it, I ran away and hid out in the woods for the entire day and cried. Of course, when I came back home, my mom was angry that I wasn't around when she needed me. All that was left of my maple tree was an ugly stump. I was so angry at my parents for doing this act I said a swear word. So again, that night while laying in bed, I cried. This time I cried because I thought I was going to hell for saying a bad word (the nuns had assured us that swearing would send you straight to the fires of the devil). My parents just thought I was weird. I cried and sulked way too much. But, that was me. As much as I searched, I could not find anyone else like me. Where were people with compassion?? Was there anyone else around like me?? Someone who had feelings??

To get through elementary school we had to make our Confirmation. Like being Baptised and First Communion, we were all drilled in the rules of Confirmation. Boys in one class and girls in another. We only came together in church. Boys sat on one side of the church, girls on the other.

Well, the day arrived. We were all dressed in our best. The Bishop was here to bless his children with the newest sacrament. The routine was that a row of children would kneel at the altar. The bishop would start at one end of the altar and say a prayer, give his blessing, then slap your face. Honestly, this is what happened. As I watched the Bishop getting closer I began to be afraid for the girl kneeling next to me. The Bishop was really hitting the kids hard, making their heads jerk. As it happened, the girl next to me had false teeth (I know, eighth grade and false teeth, but it was true).
I was worried that she would be struck by the Bishop and her teeth would go flying out of her mouth. ((told you I was a worrier)).

As it turned out, her teeth stayed in her mouth. I got my slap. The day was over. What a memory to take away with you from a day that was supposed to be so special. The nuns were all smiling and teary for us children. Nothing changed for me. I was glad I was almost through with catholic school. Looked forward to going to High School. Yes, I did look forward to going to High School with much worry and fear deep down in my guts.

OK, this was my last summer vacation. I was still the same shy person. Still filled with self-doubt. And still looking for someone like me. I was getting to the point where I felt I was just visiting this planet. Odd man out. And the nagging doubt echoing in my head 'what is wrong with me"?

This summer, we (me and my sister and our friends) would make the front page of our local newspaper. An event that my mother would predict before it happened. Freaky!!