A recent little chat through Facebook from a friend that really was not that close of a friend, brought to light what people choose to remember. This person was someone that I knew, but was never really in that cookie-cutter version of what we perceived as a good friend. We were nice to each other, we talked a little here and there, but it was far from what you would call a good friend. Well, this person started talking about the park that happened to be just a couple of house lengths down from my childhood home. It was a place to play on the equipment or a place to hang out on the bridge that crossed the creek that cut through the area. A small forest spanned along a small stretch of the creek, a steep hill that was perfect for sledding was there (only of you knew how to avoid the trees and knew how to stop before landing in the creek below), and since the creek was shallow enough to have some big rocks scatter across it... it provided yet another way to cross the creek. The underside of the concrete bridge (the only one of the two that were there, but called as it was... a concrete bridge), there was minor graffiti from the local kids underneath as well as a place to hide from passersby. Growing up near a park was not that bad of a place to live. My street ended at the park property, so there was only one way in as there was only one way out. Playing in the street was actually safe and almost encouraged. There were plenty of kids around and there was plenty to do. I rarely stayed indoors, well, that is, unless I was grounded for bad behavior, but the rules were always the same..... be home when the streetlights turned on. We even found where the one streetlight that turned on last was going to be the one we answered to.
While the memories of all the adventures we had as kids around that park sounded wonderful, it is far different when there are memories that were far less than happy passing judgement on the memories we are to have. Those memories were from certain people that managed to inflict emotional sabotage on the young mind. You see, my childhood was not a perpetually happy one. I was a bully's dream of a victim. I never was fully accepted as part of any group. I was nice, I put myself out there to make friends, but I was one to never fit in a clique'. When I was tough, I appeared to be too nice. When I was nice, I appeared to be too needy. When I tried to remain aloof, I appeared to be a loner of mass proportions. My older siblings were nowhere near my age and had no interest in being my friend. I never got advise from them and I was never asked to be a part of anything they were doing. Yep, I was the little sister that needed to GO AWAY. The 8-year gap between my brother and I is a serious indicator that my older sisters (which are older than my older brother), already had a life and had no interest in having their baby sister tag along. I am the youngest of 4 kids and while I looked up to them, there really was no connection. I know that they loved me.... they had to.... I am family, but it does not exactly guarantee I got any mentoring in what life had in store for me. I was left on my own to figure things out. Well, I might have chosen to figure it out on my own, but I do not recall any pep talks when I needed them. Nobody fought the bully that tormented me... I had to do that myself. Nobody tried to stop the neighborhood kids from chasing me down the street and nobody ever asked me how I was feeling. Both my parents worked, so I understood that I could not be the center of attention. There was always too much at the same time as there was too little and no balance. I got attention when I acted up and was ignored when I behaved. While that person remembered the people and good times.... I remembered something completely different.
That is the way life is.... in order to get attention, you have to offer something that demands attention. Heck, I see it now with DD and her behavior towards me, but sadly, it is not as cut-and-dry as I figured. I get attitude when I try to give her attention. DH does the same thing.... either get ignored or get attitude. I am seriously considering that I am the problem and not them. Just that little chat about something as small as the park I grew up near and what people remembered could be a sign of me being the fly in everyone's ointment. I am seeing conditional friendships taking center stage in my life since my best friend (the one that never made our friendship conditional) move away to start a new job and a new adventure in her life. I have become withdrawn and distant. I have reverted back into the friendly loner that shielded me from getting upset that I never really fit in with any group of people. I am nice to everyone, I push myself to fit in with the alpha person of the group, and accept what comes my way like a starved person with a crumb tossed at them. Only one person truly sought out getting to know who I really am and to see her requires a plane ride to see her, but at least I do get to talk to her on the phone. It is just not the same, but it is better than nothing. I just happen to rely more upon escaping through books and keeping to myself.
I am, by no means, seeking sympathy or trying to act like the martyr with today's blog. I just needed to release this revelation that while people from my past remember things differently than I do, it is something that remains within us as we get older. In fact, some things that we learn from our childhood is the catalyst to who we become as adults. Those early friendships form us into the adults we are today if we really put our mind to it, but we also can gather strength to change the way things can go if we were to just go with the flow.
Thanks for reading and stay tuned for more revelations that I am trying to muster up the courage to share. Have a great day everyone!
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