I got thinking about this after reading a poem a friend wrote. It was chock full of guilt. And I just started thinking.

About the things that I have never gotten over, and those that I have. And how young I was at the time.

Funny, the really heavy blows, and the ones that I still carry had to do with things that boggled the minds and discombobulated the adults around me. Not the petty incidental crap of everyday disappointment. Just the biggies- death, alcoholism, rejection, loneliness, etc. The kinds of things that I still deal with in one way or another today. The small stuff really didn't matter all that much- I was surprisingly resilient.

I still remember bits and pieces that culminated in larger things- patterns. But the smaller things aren't all that important- just the patterns. Because they were how I learned. And how I behaved. Until I realized that they were patterns, and I could basically change them with some amount of effort. At least some of them. Not necessarily all, because hard wiring is always risky to play with- involves ripping out drywall and lots of other expensive reworking. And there comes a point where I am not interested in hiring a contractor to do the trick, just want to learn to live with it, if possible. Now THERE is your tortured analogy for the day. Just because I care. And want to share my crappy writing with the world.

Ah, but it's overwhelmingly anonymous. Which equals a small piece of liberation. Not that I don't stand behind what I say, it's just ... out there... more so than I usually allow in casual conversation.

And that is enough for today.