If I tell what is true for me, how will I be judged? Aren’t we suppose to be forever sucking it up? Aren’t we suppose to pull ourselves up by our bootstraps and do the next right thing? YES. The answer is yes. But can’t it be possible that sucking it up and pulling ourselves up by our bootstraps could be telling our truth. Rather than acting out, getting drunk, hiding our feelings, hiding our past and acting like it all never happened.
After having been in recovery for many years, twenty-one, I have known many people to kill themselves. I wonder how great their pain must have been. I have felt suicidal, but I have never attempted to kill myself. I want to live. I want to continue to have the long periods of good days that I now experience. I want to enjoy my life. And I will.
I know that I will always be plagued by the past. It will always haunt me. How could it be any other way. But it doesn’t have to destroy me. It can get better. I am sure of it. These are the attitudes that he didn’t have. Or maybe he did have. But he sought his freedom in money, whiskey, women and power. He died at fifty four. He looked seventy.
Some would have said that he was a successful and self made man. Unfortunately, I will never be able to share that viewpoint. I am suppose to stick to my story. I can remember the last beating that he gave me. I was sixteen. A friend was there to witness it. I stood there and stared off and tried to not look at my friend. The belt was not a surprise and I was numb to pain. I don’t think I even flinched. I think that is where my story truly begins.Where does one go from there. My life started out shattered and numb.
At sixteen I already was dependent on alcohol. Maybe not physically but certainly psychologically. I had a love affair with drugs and a habit of running away from all of my problems. And every problem that I had was unsolvable and insurmountable. I would try. I would put my best foot forward. I would ask questions and inevitably be confused and confounded by life. People would tell me to do my best and that would be good enough. Nothing would hang me up intellectually, more, than the thought of what is my best. I had Catholic rules and Catholic guilt emblazoned on my brain like a ranch brand. I had family loyalty. All of the don’t do, don’t say, don’t tell. I had secrets of which I had practiced burials. I was shot-out from the beginning.
I had the iron attitude of, I am going to do things on my own. I am going to find my way. I wanted my own identity. I already had a my own reputation.
Fish Eye Farm 
‘But I know that I will always be plagued by the past. It will always haunt me.’
I so relate to your story.
Brilliant post.
Gavin.
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Reblogged this on Noir and commented:
secondhand surfer’s post.
I relate so much…
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Thank you for the re-blog..
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Thanks so much for this post.
Gavin.
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Staying true to yourself knowing what you want and who you are is a rare gift from God! No mater how the past has affected the decisions you made along life’s journeys you are forever free to go do and be whoever you want with a clear conscious…The ones who survive find themselves standing and seeing things in a different light…With your renewed sprit and strength you feel a strong sense of humility for all mankind. God has chosen you to keep an eye on those who are lost and have no earthly idea which direction to choose
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Not sure which tell the rest of the story, your paintings or your story. They stand alone, but together they’re inspirational, they paint a story that can not be told or painted. AjR
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Every picture tells a story and everybody has one…people can relate and I can share because I know I am an everyday person who is a part of humanity and it’s great to be alive! Thanks for the compliment…
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I didn’t know you before. Now I see you in every stroke of paint and every dot of ink. The wake you are making in my life and the lives of women looking for Chayil, opens a channel to an Unknown God- You are breathtaking.
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The paintings like everything that is not right now is the past..where it belongs.
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there is always hope in this meantime, called life and we always have to deal with death, every day ….. (whatever reason we have to live ?) … finding the right answers for ourself and dealing with them is the way to pick up our life and make the best of it. Good story and intriguing illustrations !
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