I have often felt like an alien who was rudely awoken from a pleasant slumber in the cosmos, to awaken on this strange planet, put in this strange body and never quite able to get the hang of things. The world made little sense until I realised I need to make my own sense of it.
My childhood was a world of confusion, bumping up against walls and not understanding the anger of others. I often felt blamed for the short comings of those around me, unable to defend myself, or even feel that I had the right to. My voice was trapped in my belly and there it stayed. Once in a while I grew the courage necessary to defend myself, but then it came in a firey rage, or I felt the need to perform to get attention like a puppet on strings. I did not feel valued for being, as I am. So I was thrown around the wild waves of emotions with no guidance.
The only place my feelings were of value was in the emotionally sterile and stagnant therapist office. My parents with their heads in mathematical calculations and cyberspace did not have the knowledge or skill to connect with a child of spirit, feelings and sensitivity trying to find someone to connect with in this world. So in this small room with a odd man who recorded and judged everything I did, I was expected to open up. Here I went for eight years unable to connect and belong. Instead, I locked myself up, in a dimly lit glass menagerie, and threw the key down a very deep rabbit hole and put on the mask of many faces.
At the age of 12 I was taken to an orthodontist to straighten out my teeth. And for a growing person who was already struggling with self expression, this was adding salt to a blistering and festering wound. Looking back, I now realised what was missing: music, art, singing and most off all play. I had no place or no-one safe to play with. I needed a holistic way to release the tension that was building up inside me. And back then the only release I had was writing in my journal, reading adventure novels and drawing trees: all very silent activities.
Even to this day I find it a struggle to live everyday in this strange harsh world, yet I have found hope and spirit, and most of all my voice. Perhaps in some way this post will help others find their own way on the road to somewhere.
The Gulag of Oz – an uneducational experience