Damn. I guess I can only start by saying when I first started blogging I was so lost. I was so confused. And I was MEGA Angry. Life seemed to keep stuffing me down the shitter every turn I made. If I hadn’t gotten through an entire turn… that’s okay! Life would find a way to knock me down then too. Every time I was set to learn something, I got hurt. Or at least it seemed. Every relationship I had, I wanted it 110%. And then I found out how exhausting and awful it was. Until it wasn’t. The harder I grabbed, the more it drifted away. And I kept following dead ends time after exhausting time. I wanted to believe something better would happen.

I still hate the platitude “Everything happens for a reason.” If you are not capable, mentally of handling that statement – the platitude can damage more than it helps. At 14, 15, 18, 23, 35 years old – I wasn’t ready. I couldn’t fathom that platitude meaning anything other than damning me. That God, or whatever is out there, hated me.

When I lost my youngest daughter, I lost my grip on anything concrete. I absolutely was ‘rebooted’ for lack of words. I had to figure out who the hell I was. And I mean that in a very literal sense. I wanted so many people to love and accept me. The most fundamental thing I needed was for me to love and cherish myself, first. That part mystified me like I can’t even begin to say.

I have loved everyone in my nuclear family. In that love, I was never once told that in order to love these people you’re born into – you need to love yourself first. It’s only once I was outside of that sphere of influence did that ever come into existence. And with my childhood losses mounting and my father raising me – completely out of his depth, I didn’t have a chance.

My brother Tim once told me that it was a responsibility to go to church as a child. And he was right. Yes. Absolutely. My parents went to church, so I came with. Not done, and done. Not tightly wound in a little bow. Instead, after the protections of childhood youth left and more critical thinking begun to take shape and life experiences that I never thought possible shifted my life. The people that were once the most trusted became untrusted. As I was likely untrustworthy to them. The myriad of disapproving looks and stares were not a product of paranoia. They were a product of understanding who I was to them. And while I understood who I was to them, they didn’t even begin to try to understand me. Why I was who I was. Did any of those mothers lose their mother while they were young? Was compassion not afforded to them, if so? It certainly wasn’t afforded to me. I tried to navigate teenage years without a stern hand. My father, born of a generation that afforded his children the ability to grow. Not to nurture. And honestly, not uncommon. Just in this case – with my mom out of the picture, respectively… I was doomed (to some extent).

It’s said that by the time you’re eighteen years old, you are well on your way to developing. Your brain has, your body has, high school done.. college is coming. Marriage partners possibly in site? Friendships blossoming? The world is your oyster. That is by far the status quo, at least in my view. Even friends of mine seem to be starting “the world” late. Their ability to grasp the world is very different than the way our parents may have taught us.

So again I mention my age. 44 years old. I have a new ICD (Internal Cardiac Defibrillator), I’m getting a new at home unit, my friendships are good, my house is getting better, I feel more in control of what I need to be, and I have a decent paying job (for the first fucking time). I still struggle, but I am working with the world as I see fit. Am I still angry about things that hurt me? Damn right. Even the level of angry isn’t nearly as bad as it was. I used to want to take certain people in my past to task for how they treated me. With righteous indignation, just spout out my plight! And watch the color drain from their faces as I realize what they NOW realize.

Look, I don’t have the emotional time to invest on hunting down every sob that hurt me. Sure, I had really crappy things happen to me. And man, it REALLY hurt. Deep, soul hurting stuff. Identity gripping shit. Even today, I got my DNA profile back from 23 & Me. I was informed that yes, I AM 100% Finnish Decent. And holy shit yes am I excited that it’s finally legit. And I think when I saw that result, for a moment I forgot all about the uncles, aunts, friends, foes, children, philosophers, politicians and I grasped again who the fuck I am.

I guess it comes down to this. When my daughter Darrian died, I had to grapple with the fact that I was now an empty nester. I hadn’t not had children since I was 20 years old. So that was … 19 years after the fact. My blank slate was because I didn’t have time to establish the adult me. I was child Janet for ages. I stopped so much of my development – and the blank slate is okay. As overwhelming as it was at the time, I had to start somewhere. And the right thing that I did was not asking for other people to identify who I was. I took my time. I thought long and hard about me, but some of answers were staring me in the face. I like to laugh. Matter of fact I embrace sarcasm when I’m really angry to make people laugh. I choose not to force my beliefs on someone. I try to think if it might hurt or help them. If it helps, I suggest. Otherwise, if I suggest – I don’t rely on a follower in the making. No point in that. I like PURPLE! I also like blues, just not sky blue. Yuck! I’m a major dog freak. I love them. I am opinionated and if I’m comfortable with you, I’ll tell you what I think. To a fault. I love nature and I’m trying to find some ways to protect it. I like being out in it, unless bugs that bite are out. I’ve often thought about trying out two things. Tarot and photography. Neither one has come to fruition. Someday, maybe.

In five years, that’s a lot of discovery. And there is so much more, but I’m just going to cut it off soon.

My positive ending statement is that imperfection will always be a thing. Learning will always be important, no matter what type of learning you choose to focus on. Do not let anyone tell you that you should not listen to something. Unless the artists have been convicted of something terrible – individual likes should be honored and respected. None of us are carbon copies. And we never will.

If your surroundings don’t love you, find those who will and will nurture the love you need and/or deserve. Not the selfish kind which anyone with a half brain could do.

Take care of you!

Janet