4

I've been called delusional by more than one significant other in my life. Primarily because I always did what I wanted and was under a most firm belief that nothing could touch me as a consequence. My negative actions always led to outcomes that either culminated over time or were instantaneous. Neither bothered me all that much. I'd move on to the next thing and forget about it. Or on occassion hold resentment toward someone, or something, that I projected blame on.

It's when I hit rock bottom, found myself utterly alone, that I stopped and took a good, hard look at myself. I'm not invulnerable. I'm not as clever as I think I am. I allowed escape and artificial happiness (or real misery) to kill my motivation to be the best that I could be through alcohol.

"How do I redeem myself to those I love most?"

"How do I get back on top?"

I knew the answers to these questions and more. I've summoned fortitude before and must summon it again.

What's more I learned where this illusion of invincibility (the one that came crashing down around my ears) came from. It went all the way back to a transformation that I went through during childhood.

And it wasn't a good one...

The little boy lived an almost storybook life out there in those woods. Surrounded by a loving family and a beautiful world. It was all he knew now, and he didn't mind it at all.

He didn't know much about change. Just the easygoing life of the country and being the center of attention. Inevitably change would come, though.

And it did. One night his dad brought home a lady that he worked with and had started dating. This new, unfamiliar element was met by immediate suspicion and confusion. Who was this person, this outsider being introduced into his safe world? His father's intentions were very serious concerning her and before long they were married. They would be moving out and living, what seemed like, a million miles away from the only place the boy knew as home. He was plucked from the love and protection he had gotten so used to and taken to live among, what seemed to him, total strangers. He went to a new church, had new family, went to a daycare... He was scared to death of this new life that he had had no say-so in. Fear would eventually turn to resentment, and resentment is a mighty grown-up feeling to have.

So is guilt. The child actually felt guilty for having left his grandparents. He would have to deal with this for years. He felt guilty calling someone else "grandparent" (as wonderful as these new grandparents were). He felt guilty calling someone else "momma" even though the first one wasn't exactly a winner. He found himself openly comparing his new family with the people who had raised him. Not to be mean, but to alleviate some of the emotion. This still bred resentment toward him.

He'd spend weekends out in the country from time to time. When it was time to go home, he would cry and hug everyone because he didn't want to leave. His father didn't know how to deal with this. He was confused and perhaps took it personally. This confusion would turn to anger, sometimes even spanking the boy for not wanting to go. He got a spanking one time for putting change in an envelope to send to his mommaw and pawpaw. He would begin fearing his father too, and they would start drifting apart.

This was the beginning of a world the child would create in which to escape. A world that the child still lived in well into his adulthood