The Emotional Baggage Thread

[Guest CyborgNinja]

Let's face it, people have emotional baggage. Sometimes you're just sitting there minding your own business and you start getting down about something that happened 10 years ago. Get it off your chest.

 

I'll go first:

 

When I was really young in grade school, I won a piggybank in some kind of school contest. I was really fond of it and enjoyed it because I'd always look and find coins on the sidewalk and in random places and put them there, and after some time it was nearly full. It was so heavy in my little hands and I remember feeling so proud that I was being smart and saving my money while all the other kids blew it on snack food.

 

Then one day my dad booted down my door and demanded my piggybank. I couldn't have been 10 years old. I didn't know why and I was scared to lose it so I handed it over, hoping everything would be okay. Everything wasn't okay: he smashed it with a hammer in front of me and took all of the money without saying another word. I guess it was more important for him to have gas and cigarettes than it was for me to learn how to save.

 

 

 

 

Now in my 20's I'm still a chronic cheapskate but I get really stressed about the idea of taxation because it makes me remember that occasion. "Oh, you've saved something? Thanks for your contribution, papa got bills to pay."

 

I know you've got 'em, let's hear it.

[girljen]

A year ago tomorrow, my friend died.

 

Wait. It sounds silly when I say, "My friend."  What I mean is, "The man who changed my life just by being his silly nerdy goofball self." 

 

A year ago today, I visited him for the last time, and then I emailed my best friend:

 

I'm glad I visited Steve. I got in the car, fully planning on going home because I was already upset and didn't want to deal with any people. But got a gut feeling that I absolutely must go to the hospital. So I did. And I walked right in to the ICU, even though visiting hours were over, and asked if I could see Steve. I got the secretary to laugh by asking, "Come on, really, when's the next time I'm gonna see this guy?"

I couldn't bring myself to say goodbye. I did say thank you, though. Since he was brain dead, he obviously couldn't comprehend my "Thanks for being one of the good guys," and I'm not sure he could process the fact that I had my hand on his shoulder, but I hope there was at least a little flash of recognition that something good had just happened and someone was being nice to him.

If he heard and understood, even better...but, really, I find it hard to believe that someone unconscious could hear me. I've been unconscious. I didn't hear shit! And he was below unconscious at that point.

 

 

Tomorrow is also my best friend's birthday.  I HATE THAT.  I don't want it to be her birthday.  I want it to be HIS day, the day where I can wallow and cry and miss him and think about how grateful I am that he was cool to me 10 years ago and he made me realize that I shouldn't waste my time with douchebags and instead I should find friends who make me feel good, like the one whose birthday I'll reluctantly be celebrating tomorrow.

 

Honestly, I'm hoping for a near-death experience tonight so I can cruise over to the Great Beyond and say hi to him.

[MissyMo87]

cyborgninja-Gotta love family.....they can change you so easily.

 

Girljen- I'm sorry for your loss remember it's ok to take some time for yourself.

 

 

 

This is a bit short I don't want to say too much, and it's hard to talk about....

 

It's been almost a year since my stepmom passed away. I love her dearly and miss my conversations with her especially because she was always honest with me about my dad, and the troubles he created for each of our families  (I'm 1 of 4 with 2 being hers). He's been constantly in and out of my life and I've only seen him about 9 times now. Anyways at her funeral we're all mentioned, but what got me is that my dad tried to completely wipe out the past were he was married to my mom trying to save face with his friends.  Almost all of his family met my mom and when this obituary was read some my aunts and uncles chewed him a new one after the funeral. My uncle who kept me from decking my dad that day passed a few months later, and my dad still doesn't take responsibility for his life with us, but expects us to jump through hoops when he beckons.  What still kills me is I never got a chance to tell my stepmom I didn't blame her for my dads jackassery.  I'll be at her 1 year since passing, and overall I don't know if I'll be able to keep it together.