Balance Out

Writing, writing.  I've been busy.  16 thousand words and twenty four pages.

Re-examining my life always leads to the same conclusion: it was difficult.  In many ways, it was "easy".  I didn't have to worry about being homeless, having utilities, or what I'd have for breakfast.  On the other hand, I didn't have privacy, safety, and security.  I had brain damage and severe mental illness.   I was subject to verbal abuse.

Through all of this, I'm a Christian.  Jesus, himself, commands me to forgive them, so I have.  I wish it were that easy!

It took me a while to figure out I was incapable of forgiveness.  For one, I didn't have an apology.  Just vague comments like "Well, we all hurt each other".  I try to keep clean language, but WTF?

I always felt it would be so much easier to move on, if the truth could be faced, I could get a real apology, and we could all move on.  That didn't happen.

As a result, I was very bitter and cut off contact for some time.  I didn't even tell my Dad when I moved to Texas.  He had to find out from my grandmother.  Ouch.

Ron was the one, always pushing me to stay in contact with my Dad.  Eventually I wrote some very bitter poetry and "put it on the shelf" so to speak.   I did my best to accept Dad, where he was, as he was.

Then Ron got hurt.  The next year was completely consumed in caregiving, the wedding, and restarting our business.  Yes, Ron and I got legally married after the accident that put him in the wheelchair.

As I moved on with my life, I kept getting prods that I needed to let it go.  I was the only one suffering, it seemed.

Here's the main FAS website:  FAS-CRC  I found an article about raising a child with FAS (my brain damage).  The author made it seem like the most exhausting, stressful, thankless job in the world.  The parents could never turn their backs on the child, or they'd get into trouble.

I had a whole new angle on things.  God put empathy into my heart and I was able to send them an email, truly forgiving them for everything.

Then, they apologized, and meant it.  I found that ironic.  I only got the thing I'd sought all those years, after I did the thing I thought I could never do.

So, now I'm faced with my life, "on the page".  You know I believe in honesty.

However, so much of my life was ugly.  I swear, it would be easier to write about the time Ron said he wanted an open relationship, or a suicidal depression, than some of the experiences I've had.

I've thought about it, and I'm faced with two options:  1.  Write a completely sanitized version.  Nothing bad happened except for being crazy and neglected by my birth mother.  2.  Write the truth, knowing some of the parties involved would much rather forget it ever happened.

I've opted for #2.  I'm not sure how this will "play" with the parties.  They know I'm writing "Our story".  They know that involves childhoods.  I don't know what they think I might be writing.

However, while I have shared the ugly stuff I've also shared the good stuff, too.  I have to think that will balance out in the end.

God knows whatever problems I had with Ron are a lot "easier" than the first 18 years of my life.  Well, 17 and a half.  I met Ron when I was underage.

[Cough]  I'm pretty sure the statute of limitations has expired.