While yesterday I mentioned that I was starting to prepare
for my upcoming hospital stay I started to go through a piece of luggage that
normally comes with me. In it I include many small writing pads along with a
wealth of pens, markers and even crayons.
One of my favourite things to do is to write; often I craft letters and
even take a stab at poetry. Having said this, I came across a couple of smaller
note pads that I had apparently written on during my last stay which would have
been in the early fall. At first I did not recognize the handwriting let alone the
actual notes on the pages. When I began reading what was written I wondered “who
in the hell wrote this?”
Then I recalled….yup that was me. One night I remembered dreaming
about having arrived at the gates of heaven and how I was not allowed to enter
because I first needed to complete a skill answering question. Of course no one
would know this but I am not so good at math, however I do remember BEDMAS. Unfortunately
I have not really ever needed to do this math in my everyday life, and yet I have
always longed to show off this small remembrance from elementary school. Anyways,
the whole idea of having to correctly answer this long math equation prior to
being accepted into heaven apparently got me panicked. Because the entire first
writing pad was full of possible “practice” questions. I must have woke up
utterly stressed about this.
As I continued to look through the entire scribbled on
collection of writing pads I found a test with my name and date on it and yes
it was even marked/corrected with red pen.
The top left corner bared my name alongside of the
date I wrote the test. Question 1. was to list all of the Prime Ministers of
Canada in order along with part B, where I was to name the political party
associated with the Prime Minister and write 1 fact that made that individual
stand out. The sad part was that after I wrote my own test, I also marked and
graded myself. Oh and wrote “Great Job Christine” at the top of the page.
Writing pad number 3 was filled with scribbles and small
geometric shapes in all assorted colours. Inside each shape I wrote a character
flaw about Christine…(this person I apparently know) carefully drawn between
each shape was an arrow in green crayon as to connect each shape in a chronological
order. Above each arrow was a date
marked in red pen. As I sat and read all of this and tried to make sense of what
was written I realized that I was trying to figure out when I made a mistake
and why. I was trying to find
connections to certain negative behaviours that I know I am guilty of. I think I was trying to draw a map of my
mind???? I sat and read my thoughts and events that I truly have not thought
about in years and in some cases never at all.
No matter what I did last night I could not stop thinking
about everything I wrote and was utterly dumb founded as to the events I wrote
about. I could not remember some of the events I recalled on my writing pads. I
am certain they happened as I had a horrible tug at my throat. I also had a
burning lump in the pit of my stomach. Subconsciously
I have been harbouring such ill thoughts about a lot of unsettled issues. I
never knew this, I mean we all have things we suppress but some of the items I wrote
were pretty bizarre. So now I have loose
ends…………… great! Guilt is all I need to feel at this moment. I fell asleep last
night thinking and over thinking this dreaded list of “must fix” before I go,
to find myself up at 2:30 am with yet another writing pad and pen and started
to create my new list of prioritized issues to settle. (don’t worry I didn’t suppress
any events that would be classified as homicidal or a threat of homeland
security)
The list included things such things as from my childhood
that I was ashamed of, petty items really, but when I recalled the item I felt
shame and remorse. Like steeling pears
from my neighbours tree and letting the boy across the street take the blame. No
big deal right? Well I remember never feeling good when I saw Mr. Ruth knowing
I lied to him, it also made me think that maybe he knew the truth and thought I
was a bad kid. I also recalled the time when my other neighbour was doing his
daily run down our sidewalk in
preparation for a marathon…… and I jumped out of the bushes and scared him,
which of course made him fall off the sidewalk and seriously twist his ankle and
NO he never did run his marathon. Even though he was more than understanding about
the whole situation he shouldn’t have been! He should have smacked me upside
the head! WHY in the hell would I have done that??? I want to write him a
letter and say sorry.
One day I was jumping on the bed at a neighbourhood friend’s
house when her little brother nose-dived into the wall because…. I pushed him. Bloody
hell did that kid bleed; his mother came running into the room and screamed
bloody murder when she saw her poor little boy all covered in his own blood…..I
stood there in complete shock and frozen with panic as I knew I was in big, big
trouble. My fear was that he would die, as I had never seen someone bleed like
that before. Then out of my mouth “I hope he dies”…..REALLY? NOOOOOO……………. What
I wanted to say was “I hope he DOES NOT die” but it came out wrong. She turned
and spanked me and I was never ever allowed to play there again. Do you have
any idea how hard that was to keep from my mom?? I could never ever tell her
why I couldn’t go play there; instead I would continually make up excuses as to
why they couldn’t play… I also want to call her and tell her what I meant to
say, I was NOT a horrible kid even though she must have thought so.
Should I really allow
situations like this to keep me up all night…..jeez. The truth is yes, they
should. These are the types of situations that keep me from being settled as an
adult. The notion that someone thinks something of me that I am not truly
cripples me. Loose ends. I hate the idea that someone has an idea of what kind
of person I am when in all reality I am not what they think I am or think they see.
It literally kills me that I cannot change the way I am thought of. I have made
my share of mistakes and have presented myself in a manner that didn’t always
show my true self, and for that I am in pain. Probably my biggest regret about
this is that I have never had the gull, the guts nor the balls to stand up for
myself and even try to debunk myths about me.
I know that the pattern of behaviour of not clarifying
situations to others has been a huge character flaw of mine and recalling
events from childhood clearly show me that this has been “me” since I was
young. That kills me. Why should it matter anyway what people think of you? In
some cases it matters A LOT! I know that it bothers me immensely.
There have
been times in my adult life, even recently that I have allowed people to think
something that is not true about me and haven’t taken the necessary steps to
clarify or justify my behaviour. Mostly because; in some cases, I am not proud
of the truth and I try to protect myself from being judged. I also have this incredible amount of pride
which is contradictory as I am saying that I try to protect myself from others
truly knowing my personal business and yet I allow others to think things about
me that are not true without even attempting to educate them or change their
opinion…… (exhale Christine, take a DEEP
breath , exhale again) what a tangled messed up web…… come on there must be a 4th
note pad that deals with my low self-esteem, as this sounds a lot like that.
I think that all of the things I wrote (and oh boy there was
a lot more written) I kind of need closure to. I am truly sorry for the little
things that I have done wrong in my life. I also know that there have been
individuals in my life that I have hurt or disappointed. I really want and need
them to know that I am sorry and that I am remorseful for not being who I
should have been. Obviously by what I wrote about I need to settle some things
before it is too late. Should I write letters to these people and apologize? Should
I forgive myself for what I have done or not done? My mother will probably tell
me to go to church and say confession and will most likely give me a list of her
own items that I should seek forgiveness for! ( lol mom.)
Or maybe I should blame the hospital or the nurses……..yes
that is the answer! What kind of drugs were they giving me? Truth serum? Hallucinates?
Whatever it was that caused me to write out the things I did, I am thankful. It
has caused me to self- reflect which is always good to do. I can only become a
better person for having done it. I am going to stop typing here and continue
to type……Dear so and so, I am sorry for, and Dear So and so I am not sorry for, OK just kidding.
~Christine~
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