7 year cycles
My life seems to run in seven year cycles. It's not an absolute number but it is close enough to be able to recognize a pattern in the timing.
There is plenty of research to support that typically from in utero to five years old, one experiences their most formative years. I suspect with out a nurturing environment, this may take longer. I can't remember a thing from my 2nd grade year. I've been told that there was some emotional abuse and ridicule. Apparently, I spent a lot of time on a stool wearing a dunce cap. I don't know when my mother was enlightened with this information, and in the very few times she has mentioned it, I can hear her heart is heavy with guilt for not acting on it.
I do remember my 3rd grade teacher and I remember several examples of physical abuse and being humiliated. I remember choosing not to do school work as the year progressed, and sitting out in the hall, a lot. I spent a lot of time on restriction 4th, through 7th grade. Then my family moved and got stationed in Germany. And I started fighting.
So enough boohooing about that. It's done. I've over analyzed those years and how they have played a part in the make up of who I am today. And it is what it is.
My years between 20, 21, to 27, I think were some of my most fun yet self destructive years. While at the time, I felt like I was in control, and confidant, I look back now and can recognize I was anything but that. I started doing drugs in the Army. Worked as a male dancer for a year. Slept with a scores of women and I partied.
After I got out of the Army, I did attempt to do what I felt society expected me to do. Met a very wholesome woman who was 10 years older than I was. Got a good job, went to college for a little bit. But I wasn't being me. I was trying to be only what I thought I needed to be. I felt so miserable. I felt so constricted. So on the the 4th of July 1993, I broke up with this woman, quit my job, decided I wasn't going to go back to school, and shaved my head. My independence day. I reverted back to a carefree life style. Quit everything to further myself or work to grow as a person. I was simply reacting to the situation I created for myself. Started selling art work door to door for a while and then started working at a very laid back restaurant as a kitchen manager. Got an apartment with six other people and partied! My roommates and I called the apartment Rome. We were wild!!! Orgies, drugs, rock n roll. People would crash at Rome for a few days to a few weeks and move on. There were so many crazy experiences!! I could write for days just on the events that took place in that apartment.
At 27, things started to change. The group I was hanging out with was starting to dabble in heroin and I ended up getting one of the women I was "playing" with, pregnant. I can't say I had any particular type of epiphany but I quickly recognized that I was on a path to living the rest of my life as a piece of trash.
So, for the second time, one day in October, I changed. I just walked away and moved to the other side of town. I lived in a run down apartment where my rent was $200 bucks a month. The lock on the front door didn't even work. I sold my jeep, (I loved that jeep), and bought a ten speed bicycle. Dropped away from anybody and everybody I knew at the time. I didn't hook up the electricity or cable or anything. Got a second full time job. I just worked, came home and slept, and went back to work. After three months, I felt much more in control of who I was, what I wanted, and much more financially stable than at any other time up to that point.
I felt very empowered. I went out and got a tattoo on the side of my head of a celtic designed lizard. The symbolism of the lizard spoke strongly to me. When some lizards are attacked by a predator, they possess the ability to shed their tails to confuse their attackers. In some cases they are able to make a clean get away, and then regenerate their tail. I felt I was the predator and the prey. Regenerating was a necessity. I lived this way for almost six months.
At the end of this six month period, I moved to the same city where the woman I had gotten pregnant, (She had moved back home with her folks), lived. My daughter was three months old at that point. I didn't feel it was okay to have a child and not be a part of her life. Through the challenges of caring for an infant, it brought the mother and I even closer, and six months later we got married. My wife had known me at a point in my life where there weren't to many people lower or more selfish than who I allowed myself to be. And in spite of myself, she saw enough potential to allow me to be a part of her life. This was the first time, I felt loved. Just for being me, lumps and all. I was very lucky to have her in my life and am grateful I got to share so much with her, even though her life was cut so short.
After my wife's death, I tried to do the best I could, but eight months later, the job I had had for seven years laid me off. At this point I crashed. I was a shell of person. I tried to fake it, but I reverted back to the same self destructive behavior I displayed when in Rome. It took me a while, but with the help of a great shrink and a lot of hard work, I got my ish back together. I met another woman who I felt was worth sharing the rest of my life with and we were together for seven years. Two months ago she left.
So here I am again. Only this time, I do have a much better sense of self. While I still have the urge to revert back to a more careless lifestyle, I can see that there is no benefit from it other than a topical sense of pleasure. I have enough strength and integrity to know that I just need to take some time. Purge any of the feelings I had for my wife, and life will be there when I feel ready. These are hard days. Some harder than others, but I am very excited to see what the next seven years hold for me. Maybe, it can even hold me for 37 years or more.
There is plenty of research to support that typically from in utero to five years old, one experiences their most formative years. I suspect with out a nurturing environment, this may take longer. I can't remember a thing from my 2nd grade year. I've been told that there was some emotional abuse and ridicule. Apparently, I spent a lot of time on a stool wearing a dunce cap. I don't know when my mother was enlightened with this information, and in the very few times she has mentioned it, I can hear her heart is heavy with guilt for not acting on it.
I do remember my 3rd grade teacher and I remember several examples of physical abuse and being humiliated. I remember choosing not to do school work as the year progressed, and sitting out in the hall, a lot. I spent a lot of time on restriction 4th, through 7th grade. Then my family moved and got stationed in Germany. And I started fighting.
So enough boohooing about that. It's done. I've over analyzed those years and how they have played a part in the make up of who I am today. And it is what it is.
My years between 20, 21, to 27, I think were some of my most fun yet self destructive years. While at the time, I felt like I was in control, and confidant, I look back now and can recognize I was anything but that. I started doing drugs in the Army. Worked as a male dancer for a year. Slept with a scores of women and I partied.
After I got out of the Army, I did attempt to do what I felt society expected me to do. Met a very wholesome woman who was 10 years older than I was. Got a good job, went to college for a little bit. But I wasn't being me. I was trying to be only what I thought I needed to be. I felt so miserable. I felt so constricted. So on the the 4th of July 1993, I broke up with this woman, quit my job, decided I wasn't going to go back to school, and shaved my head. My independence day. I reverted back to a carefree life style. Quit everything to further myself or work to grow as a person. I was simply reacting to the situation I created for myself. Started selling art work door to door for a while and then started working at a very laid back restaurant as a kitchen manager. Got an apartment with six other people and partied! My roommates and I called the apartment Rome. We were wild!!! Orgies, drugs, rock n roll. People would crash at Rome for a few days to a few weeks and move on. There were so many crazy experiences!! I could write for days just on the events that took place in that apartment.
At 27, things started to change. The group I was hanging out with was starting to dabble in heroin and I ended up getting one of the women I was "playing" with, pregnant. I can't say I had any particular type of epiphany but I quickly recognized that I was on a path to living the rest of my life as a piece of trash.
So, for the second time, one day in October, I changed. I just walked away and moved to the other side of town. I lived in a run down apartment where my rent was $200 bucks a month. The lock on the front door didn't even work. I sold my jeep, (I loved that jeep), and bought a ten speed bicycle. Dropped away from anybody and everybody I knew at the time. I didn't hook up the electricity or cable or anything. Got a second full time job. I just worked, came home and slept, and went back to work. After three months, I felt much more in control of who I was, what I wanted, and much more financially stable than at any other time up to that point.
I felt very empowered. I went out and got a tattoo on the side of my head of a celtic designed lizard. The symbolism of the lizard spoke strongly to me. When some lizards are attacked by a predator, they possess the ability to shed their tails to confuse their attackers. In some cases they are able to make a clean get away, and then regenerate their tail. I felt I was the predator and the prey. Regenerating was a necessity. I lived this way for almost six months.
At the end of this six month period, I moved to the same city where the woman I had gotten pregnant, (She had moved back home with her folks), lived. My daughter was three months old at that point. I didn't feel it was okay to have a child and not be a part of her life. Through the challenges of caring for an infant, it brought the mother and I even closer, and six months later we got married. My wife had known me at a point in my life where there weren't to many people lower or more selfish than who I allowed myself to be. And in spite of myself, she saw enough potential to allow me to be a part of her life. This was the first time, I felt loved. Just for being me, lumps and all. I was very lucky to have her in my life and am grateful I got to share so much with her, even though her life was cut so short.
After my wife's death, I tried to do the best I could, but eight months later, the job I had had for seven years laid me off. At this point I crashed. I was a shell of person. I tried to fake it, but I reverted back to the same self destructive behavior I displayed when in Rome. It took me a while, but with the help of a great shrink and a lot of hard work, I got my ish back together. I met another woman who I felt was worth sharing the rest of my life with and we were together for seven years. Two months ago she left.
So here I am again. Only this time, I do have a much better sense of self. While I still have the urge to revert back to a more careless lifestyle, I can see that there is no benefit from it other than a topical sense of pleasure. I have enough strength and integrity to know that I just need to take some time. Purge any of the feelings I had for my wife, and life will be there when I feel ready. These are hard days. Some harder than others, but I am very excited to see what the next seven years hold for me. Maybe, it can even hold me for 37 years or more.
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