My birthday is just a few days away. It usually doesn't go so well for me. It's at an inopportune time. The closing of Summer & the not quite start of Fall. Labor Day Weekend & the 1st of the month. Not good timing, but hey at least I would've made Hogwart's deadline.
I don't have a problem with my age. I usually don't even think about it. My problem is that I never think of myself as the age I am. That's 1 of the many problems kids from seriously screwed up homes face. When something mars a child physically or otherwise, part of them always lingers with you. Each time it happens, more versions of yourself continue to walk beside you & sound off in your head.
No matter how old you get, that earliest version of you, will always be the 1st & final thing you hear in your head when you face life. I occasionally hear very young versions of me, but it's mostly about the time I was between 7 - 8. When my parents' escapades became their most violent & they finally split. There are a few versions of angry, teenage me's. There are those in my college years trying to survive & the 1 when university was over & I had nothing. There are a couple of older, more fuck-it-all versions & then 1 when I was at my sickest with HIV. But, none of them are the person I see in the mirror. I don't really know that version well, not always sure if I care to.
When people, especially kids, experience trauma, it scars them forever. Maybe no one else can see the marks, but we can. It's a playlist of flashbacks to the least favorite events in your life. Your lowest, most horrible, possibly terrifying points.
I don't care that I'm turning 51, surprised, but not upset. It just seems like that 8 year old has been here a long time looking for something. I doubt we'll ever find it. I think that kid was supposed to be somewhere else by now. Maybe some place nice.
Cya...
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