No Longer A Victim

This recalling of my life is from multiple sources. The most reliable being my own personal experiences. It was a sweet sixteen birthday present and the condom broke. Now there are stories that say that it was perforated by my father prior to being used. This however has never been verified by myself. Happy birthday! Now you are expecting me to say 9 months later the joyous day arrived. 9 months past and I was not ready to come out. In the 11th month doctors induced labor in the morning. It was early evening before I came into the light of day. To hear my mother tell the story you would listen to how she missed breakfast and lunch and dinner. The nurses allowed her to eat a late dinner that day. No stories about how joyous a day it was or how great an event. Only how she suffered through not eating.

Well after that I had many visits to the hospital. I am allergic to many different foods. Cattle dairy being one of those allergies. At three months of age I was covered in a rash that would not go away. They also discovered that I was allergic to detergents. So to say the least I needed special attention. I was put on a formula that was not as cheap as milk. My sheets and clothes had to be washed then boiled. It must have been a lot of work.

My grandparents took care of me for most of my first 5 years. This I have been told by many friends of the family. Not to say that I did not live with my parents. I did. My parents were given the chance to finish school by my grandparents. That is why they took care of me for the most part. Well if you talk to my mother and ask her about what happened, she will tell you how I ruined her chance of finishing school and how she never became the ballerina that she could have been because she had to take care of me.

Taking care of me. This is what she blames me for. Yes it was my fault that the condom broke or that they choose to have me. These things I choose for them. Well as life goes on so did I. I have only heard the words “I Love You” once in my life from my parents. It was from my mother. I was ten years old and the family was at a friends home. The friend mentioned that maybe my misbehavior was due to the fact that I did not feel loved. If only they knew how right they were. She was relentless on my mother. She convinced her to say it to me. I remember this vividly. I cried and told her that I loved her as well. This is the only time in my life that that exchange has ever happened.

I did all I could to get attention. Good or bad attention it did not matter. I was never hugged, told I love you, we are proud of you. My father owns a business. He worked long hours. The only times I can remember seeing him in my early years was one of three places. He was passed out on the couch in front of the television with a beer in his hand, he was in the driveway working on setting up shelving units for a vehicle he was going to use for business, or he needed help with work and could find no one to help him, then he would come home and ask if we could assist him. He told me about how his father was a mean old man who treated all his kids badly. He said that he would never be like that. Congratulations Dad you succeeded. You were never there for us, so you never did treat us badly. You did provide a roof over our heads and food for our bellies. Those things I thank you for.

I tried to gain acceptance from my family. I wanted them to be proud of me. I was 27 years old when my father told me he was proud of me. Never once before that and never since. I had just graduated from DeVry Institute of Technology. I had taken the two year electronics course. I did this because my father told me that his business was becoming more electronic and he was not sure if he could stay in business. So I put myself through college and into deep debt for his cause. This never panned out. I worked for 3 months in the roll of electronics technician. Not once did my college education help my father or his business. To be honest I was not interested in electronics. I much would have preffered to have gone to university and studied many different topics. I got bored with the electronics easily. There was not a lot of a challenge there.

I was physically beaten until I was eleven years of age. That was when I started to swing back. I am not proud of fighting with my mother. I did it in self defense. That day tore me up. I was being smacked for no reason other than she needed a release and I was handy. Like always. I just started swinging back. It took one of my uncles to pull me off of her. I do not remember anything of the fight. I only remember my uncle holding my in the air telling me to calm down. It was over. She never laid another finger on any of us kids. The beatings were carried out with a leather strap that was one and a half inches wide by half and inch thick by about four feet long. This device was folded in half and snapped together to produce a very loud snapping sound. This was done to give warning that a beating was coming. There was the hand on the bare bottom beatings as well. Those ones were the least painful. Then there was the kitchen impliments. Any wooden spoon was considered fair game. It did not matter if it was just out of hot water or the drawer, it was used if it was handy.

The verbal and emotional abuse did not stop until many years later. I can not tell you when exactly but I was in my twenties. Now in my thirties she uses guilt trips instead. The whole of my youth I was wrong. It did not matter what I did or did not do it was wrong. If I got out of bed I was wrong and if I stayed in bed. You guessed it. I was wrong. This gets to be a self demoralizing thing. I did not realize that I could be right until I was in my thirties. I also had no self esteem or positive self image until my thirties. Even now its difficult to look in the mirror sometimes. I am afraid I am going to see the monster my parents saw.

I can remember not feeling comfortable in my skin. I had no reason to. I was not loved, not nurtured in a healthy way, not cared for other than food and shelter, nor shown any compassion. Just as puberty was hitting me I was interested in things that were femme. I loved the look of stockings and pantyhose. I loved the feel of them. It excited me. So I got my hands on them when ever I could. I use to wear them and pretend I was someone else. I used them to try and fulfill fantasies that I was someone else someone who was loved. I also used them as a way to try and get attention. I would leave them in places that they would be found. My parents found them and thought I was gay. So for the summer of my thirteenth or fourteenth birthday I was sent to an uncles place.

He lived in the middle of nowhere. Him and his partner owned 200 acres of land. It was trees as far as you could see. This uncle was gay. He also had a thing for boys. I was just becoming a young man. I was in for some rude awakenings. I shared my obsession of stockings with this man not knowing what I was in store for. Now things never got dangerous in a life and death kind of way. However this uncle used me for his pleasures and allowed some of his friends to share to do the same.

This uncle sodomized me with a carrot wrapped in plastic wrap. He had me perform oral sex and hand jobs on him and his friends. My parents came for a visit two weeks into my visit. I begged and pleaded with them to take me home. I did not mention at that time what was happening to me. They refused to take me with them. So after they left I decided that I had to do what ever it took to end this. I tried to escape this by walking into the forest one day. I had nothing on my except a pair of shorts a t-shirt and a knife. I walked for hours. In circles. I did not know how to navigate at that time. I was a city kid in the forest. I walked and walked and walked on and on I went. I thought for sure I was going to die out there. I layed down on a fallen over tree. This thing was huge. I could not wrap my arms around it mid way up. As I lay there feeling sorry for myself and crying I heard a noise and thought I was dead. I listened for a second and noticed that the birds had stopped chirping and the forest was silent except for the noise I had heard. I slowly opened my eyes. I was laying on my back on a log, the first thing I see is the sky. It was a beautiful powder blue with light wispy clouds in it. I slowly lifted my head to look around. I did not have to. Just beyond my foots reach on the log was a lynx. It was just looking at me. When it saw me looking back it walked off. I later found out that I had layed down on its den. That tree was part of the den. I do not know why the lynx did not attack me or try to scare me off. I do know that I gained a profound respect for nature at that point.

I picked my scared self up and started to walk again. This is about eight hours after I started my trek. I thought I must be miles from where I started. This is when I hear something that does not fit. I hear a voice, faint and distant. I start to yell and scream and figure I am saved. I head in the direction of the voice and it gets louder telling me to stay put and to keep talking so they can find me. It was my uncles lover. I had walked in circles for eight hours. I was found.

Almost two weeks later I was on my way home. I was in the back of an ambulance with a major head concussion. What happened you ask. I wish I could tell you. What I have been told is that I tried to go up the stairs and lost my balance on the second stair up. I fell backwards and landed on the back of my head on a concrete floor. I do remember waking up when this uncles lover tried to lift my head and had to put it back down because the back of my head formed to his hand. I also remember waking up upstairs a bit later and stumbling into the bathroom where I threw up blood. I woke up twice more once was in the car on the way back into civilization. The next was in an ambulance on my way to the children's hospital almost 200 kilometers away. I was informed that the doctor called my parents to tell them that I was on my way to the hospital when the ambulance arrived to pick me up. The ambulance arrived at the hospital before my parents did. The hospital is less than 30 kilometers away from my parents house.

A couple of weeks after I woke up from my concussion I was asked by another uncle if anything had happened to me while I was up north. I was afraid and did not know what to say. He told me that if it did it was ok he would not think anything bad of me. I told him that things had happened without getting into detail. He told others in the family. My father comes from a large family. He has three sisters and four brothers. Well the other uncle denied it. My mother called me a liar. My father did not comment on this for years. It was about three or four years later when my father finally did comment on what happened. He told me that he knew what happened to me. He had it happen to him when he was about the same age as I was. His words to me were “I know what happened to you up there. He did it to me when I was about that age as well. I chalked it up as experience and moved on with my life. You should do the same.” Thanks for the advice dad. I just could not do that.

The next summer was even better for me. I stayed home and was as usual grounded for some reason or other. My brother younger than I am came home from flying his kite and said that he had gotten it caught in a tree. So I went to retrieve it for him. Now in these days my parents put a time limit on my free time. This was part of a program to try and control my movements. Well I climbed this tree that was at the top of a hill. It had grown at an angle out over the valley below. So I am twenty five to thirty feet up this tree and about fifty feet from the ground. I reach for the kite and can not reach it. So I grab a thick branch and lean on another so I can reach out further. The branch I am leaning on breaks about two inches out from the tree. I am still holding the other branch so I do not fall. I swing inwards towards the tree and catch the stump of what I was leaning on in the right side of my ribs. This knocks the wind out of me and brings tears to my eyes. I forget about the kite and manage to make my way down from where I am without falling. When I finally get home I mention that I think I broke some ribs and that I need to go to a hospital. My father is busy working on his vehicle and can not stop what he is doing to take me. My mother does not drive and tells me that if I think its bad enough then I should walk.

The hospital is two to three kilometers away. I start walking. When I get there I find out that yes I have fractured three ribs and there is nothing that they can do for it. Also because I am there without a parent or guardian they will not give me a prescription for pain killers. I walk back home. When I get there I am in a foul mood and hurting from all the walking. I ask if I can go out. I am told that I used all my free time for the week walking to the hospital. I lost it. I yelled and screamed and called my mother every evil nasty thing I could think of. I then stormed out of the house. I slept on the streets for the next two weeks. I spent a year and a half with a cousin and his mother before I was kicked out for a theft that I never committed. The item I was accused of stealing was found a couple of years later in some luggage. I lived with an the uncle that asked me if things happened for a couple of years. He was an alcoholic at the time and had no issues sharing his beer with me. I did not sober up until I left there. I spent two full years in a tent while I lived with him. Winter, spring, summer, and fall. I spent many a year on the streets.

I survived all this. In my early twenties I decided that I did not want to be on the streets anymore. I got a job as a bouncer in a bar. I stayed at that bar until it closed up for good about six months after I started. I then took a job as a bouncer in an after hours club. I worked there for over three years. I had the best track record of all the bouncers there. I have worked my through all of it. I did not have the chance to work on a lot of my social skills when I was younger. I am working on those now.

There are dreams that I have had that I have fulfilled. There are still some that I have not. I would like to be debt free. I am working on that one slowly but surely. I would like to go to university. I do not know if that will happen for a long time. I would like to learn how to play piano and learn yoga. I would also like many other things. However I like to start small.

Thanks for listening my life so far. It has a happy ending in the process thanks to my loving wife and stepdaughter. They gave me the tools needed to get to where I am today.

Thank you to both of you for all you have given me.

Love you both.

Cheers

Overcomming Addictions

When I was six years of age the teenage babysitters thought it would be cute to see me smoke. So everytime they came over I got to have a cigarette with them. They were there for at least one day a week. By the time I was eleven I was smoking a pack a week. By fourteen I was upto a pack a day. I stayed at a pack a day until I was 32.

The earliest photo of me is of me holding a beer bottle up to my mouth and drinking. I was in diapers and could not stand with out the aid of the end table. This is something that did not stop for a long time. There was a period of time when I stayed intoxicated for about two years. It was when I was about fifteen to seventeen years of age. I was living in a tent in a trailer park at the time. I would wake at five am and grab a six pack of beer and head off to the showers. When the shower was over I would grab a case of beer and head to work. The case of beer would last until the beer store would open at eleven am. I would head to the beer store and get more beer. I would drink until one am then I would sleep for four hours. Then it would all start over again. I have stopped drinking beer. I have the odd glass of wine with dinner on special occasions now.

I also had a cocaine addiction while I worked as a bouncer in the bars. This lasted for three months. I at that time decided that sleep and sanity were worth more than the feelings that the drug brought. I have broken two of the three habits with nothing more than will power. The smoking is the only one I could not kick without help. I used zyban to help me kick that one.

Good Bye to a Hero

There comes a time in everyones life when we have to face the fact that those we thought were immortal and would be around to see the end Sol our sun, leave this world. On July 7th 2005, 7:15 pm, this is the time and date that this happened to me. That is the time that my childhood hero left this world. This man was only 49 years of age. To my younger self he was invincible, he was immortal. He shall live on in my heart and memories.

He taught me a lot of things, to measure twice and cut once. To keep an open mind. To be thrifty when it came to most things, but to not be too thrifty when it came time to treat yourself to something you enjoy. He taught me that music was something to be enjoyed not something just to drown out others. There are many many lessons he taught me. The best lesson he had for me though was to never give up. That lesson carried me through the darkest days. It is a lesson that is there even in the greatest times of my life.

You made a difference in my life. To me you will always be immortal. May you be at peace now.

Thank you.
I Love You.
Good Bye!

"Now cracks a noble heart. Good night sweet prince:
And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!"
HORATIO From Hamlet by William Shakespeare

Letter to Mommy

Dear Mother,

Hmmmm.... Dear - Highly esteemed or regarded. Used in direct address, especially in salutations: Dear Lee Dawson.
Dear does not seem appropriate.

Mother,

Hmmmm... Mother - A woman who conceives, gives birth to, or raises and nurtures a child.
Mother does not seem appropriate either.

Female parental unit,

Parental unit - a parent or someone who plays the role of a parent.
Someone who plays the role of a parent, that fits better.

Female parental unit,

I do not know why it was you could not love me. I do know that what ever it was, it was not my fault. I was only a child. You were suppose to be the adult. Yet you turned that around and dumped your issues in my lap. How the hell was I suppose to deal with all your problems and failings. I grew up thinking that I was wrong all the time. I have never felt loved by you. I have never felt compassion from you. Nor have I ever felt that you were proud of me in any way shape or form. You should have gone out of your way to make me feel loved, cherished, adored, secure, and full of pride. You failed, you failed big time.

I am not following the same path you did. I have my issues, thank you for so many of them. They have been keeping me busy. The difference between you having issues and me having issues is this: I am dealing with my issues not dumping them in the lap of my children.

So as a responsible adult I figured I should let you know that I am doing well. Even after you tried your hardest to make sure that I never would. I am dealing with my issues. I am getting better, it is taking sometime, however I have some great support in my life now.

My issues are being dealt with, perhaps you should start looking after yours.

You oldest male offspring.

Letter to Daddy

To the sperm donor,

I would first like to say that Harry Chapen Carpenter was only half right in his song "Cats in the Cradle", You were always too busy. Where he was wrong though is that the child was going to follow in the fathers foot steps. I am not going to keep myself so busy with work that my children suffer from it. I appreciate the fact that you were providing for your family. I do not however appreciate that you were never there to protect me from your wife's outbursts of rage which would cause me physical pain until I started to fight back. You also did not protect me from her emotional or mental attacks which went on alot longer than the physical attacks.

Next in the list is the fact that you have never told me you loved me or cared for me or that you were proud of me. Despite all that I have figured out that I am worthy of love and caring and respect and I am proud of me. There are many others who love me, care for me, and are proud of me.

Also sending me away for a summer to your brothers was a strock of genius. I did not realize that he had sexually abused you until years after he did it to me and you told me that it had happened to you as well and that I should chalk it up to experience and move on. Well I can not just chalk it up as experience and move on. I do not think you realize that he had his way with me many times, he also let his friends have thier way with me many times. This is not something that a twelve / thirteen year old should have to deal with. I should have been able to laugh and play and be a kid. Oh yeah I forgot I was not a kid I was a little adult who had no say in anything.

Thanks for allowing me to help you with your work when you could find no one else. It made me feel like a big man to help daddy with work. Its kind of funny the only memories I have of you are either passed out on the couch with a beer in your hand, or of you working. No memories of you playing with me or taking me to do fun things as a child. Oh I do recall going fishing for smelts once a year for a couple of years. Not much of a sport when you can reach into the water and pick up a fish. Takes the sport out of it. Try catching a trout or bass that way. I have been able to catch a trout and a bass and a salmon that way. I waded into the water and hunted them by hand.

Let me end this on a good note. Thank you for providing me with a roof over my head and food in my belly, and nothing else.

Letter to my abusers

To the many different men out there that enjoyed my person,

First off let me state this very clearly, most of you abused me when I was twelve years old, just before my thirteenth birthday. Now I hope that sinks in for some of you. I did not wish you to sodomize me, perform oral sex on me, have me perform oral sex on you, be masterbated by or with by any of you. You are and were suppose to be adults. I do not know how any adult could do any of those things to someone so young.

Then there is the one person who after I told my tale to took advantage of it. I was just over sixteen and you used the fact that I had been abused by men and pretty much abandoned by my father to take advantage of me. Bravo to you. You are a big man arent you.

Well I am silent no longer.

I have been sexually abused by many men. I have made a report to the authorities about the first group of men. The last man I have not reported as of yet. I think I shall let the local authorities know of his sexual prefferences. Preying on young boys is going to become a very difficult thing to do, you son of a bitch.

I would like all of you to know that you have all affected my life in many many ways. Some of which are as follows; I do not know what a healthy sex life is. I have never know of this. I have always been afraid to allow anyone close enough to get there. When I have tried to overcome this fear I find that I am afraid of becoming like you. I fight constantly with myself over this. For a long long long time I though I was gay. Not because I had a sexual attraction to men, I have never had that, but because of what you all did to me. I figured that I had to be gay because grown men used me like I was. Great reason to think that isnt it. I spent years tormenting myself and abusing my body because of what you all did to me. I am not proud of the things I did. I did them because I knew no other way.

Well I am no longer abusing myself and I am happily married now. My wife and step daughter are my salvation and my greatest supporters. You all have tormented me for years and years and will probably continue to do so for a while longer. However I am taking back my life and I am going to heal from the damage you did. So big tough guys, you are not so tough now after all are you.

May you all die a slow painful death and my the only things that help decompose you do so before death takes you from your suffering.

Cheers

Letter to a little boy

Dear little boy,

It is ok to come out now. I have had a talk with all the mean people and told them to leave you alone. I will not let them hurt you anymore. I love you and I will protect you always. Not even death will stop me from keeping you safe. You are a very special child and I am sorry no one has ever told you that before. I will teach you how to have fun and to play and laugh in the rain and in the sun. There will be difficult times ahead and sometimes you may get banged up and bruised. When this happens I will be right there with you. I will kiss your booboo's better and I will wipe the tears away. I will hug you and hold you and tell you that I love you and let you know that I am proud of you. You have come through so much already. No one can change that, however I can promise you that I will always be with you.

You are my pride and joy
You are my sunshine
You are my reason to keep going
when everything has me down
You are everything good and decent
within me.

You are my inner child and I Love You.

Internal Dialogue

Adult: Hey you can come out now. Its safe.
Child: Are you sure its ok now?
Adult: Yes. I am here to protect you.
Child: Can I hold your hand while we walk?
Adult: Sure thing. Its a long walk you know.
Child: Thats ok, as long as your with me.
Adult: I will always be with you.
Child: Thank you. Can I run and jump and skip and play?
Adult: Yes you can. Maybe you can show me how to skip. *winks at child*
Child: I would like that. How come all those people were so mean to me?
Adult: *Sighs and shakes his head* I do not know. I can tell you that it was not your fault. It was nothing you did. I am sorry that you had to go through all that. I will not let it happen again. I will protect you and stand up for you. You just be you. Ok?
Child: OK! Can I hug you?
Adult: Sure! I would like that.
Child: *Wraps arms around adult* Me too.

Child: Thank you!
Adult: For what?
Child: For helping me.
Adult: You are very welcome. And hey guess what.
Child: What?
Adult: I Love You!
Child: *Whispers in adults ear* I love you too! *Kisses adults cheek*

Haves and Have Nots

All my life I have had many things;
I have had strength, I just did not know it.
I have had courage, it was also unknown to me.
I have had Intelligence, this one did not elude me.
I have had maturity, even when I should have had innocence.
I have had power, raw and unrefined and blind to it.
I have had all of these for as long as I can remember,
I was conditioned to not notice this gifts,
I have over come that conditioning,
I am realizing just what gifts I have always had.

The things that I have always lacked have been;
Good Mentors,
Proper Direction,
Unconditional Love.

I have over come a lot of things, I have been self directed.
I am tired of stumbling around in the dark.
I am tired of being numb to the pats on the back,
And being afraid that the pat is going to be a smack.

I am grateful to the few who have be able to reach me,
They have made all the difference in my world.
If not for them, their love and understanding,
I would probably have ended up dead,
Alone somewhere in a ditch.

This world is full of hero's,
Those people who love you just for being you,
They are heroes.
don't believe me try living a day without Unconditional Love.

Some of my hero's include;
My wife,
My Stepdaughter,
My Individual Therapist,
The Circle of Friends, ( This is the group of gentlemen from my first group therapy ),
The Two Therapists who facilitated the group therapy,
All the other Therapists out there who go above and beyond for their clients.

Thank you to all my hero's.
You have all made a big impact on my life and I do appreciate it.

Cheers

Baby Houdini

As a child I was active, very active. I had a lot of energy. I believe it was from the special diet that I had to be on. I am allergic to cattle dairy, eggs, tomatoes, and peanut oil plus a lot of other things that are not diet related. So I did not like to be put in my crib. I would climb out. My parents tired of this. They wanted some time for them. That is understandable. I can not fault them for that. They talked to someone who mentioned putting me into a harness and securing it in the crib. Well to my ears now this sounds like a bad idea. Think about all that could go wrong. Well they did not think about those things. They took the advice and went out and got a harness.

Well one eve they wanted to play some cards. No biggy I was almost 2 years of age at this point and the TV was my baby sitter. I would sit in front of it and watch it and be entranced. I would not run around the house. I would giggle and laugh and have a good time. This however was not acceptable to them. They wanted the time to play cards and not hear me or the TV. So out comes the harness and I get tied into this thing. They used square knots. Then they tied the harness to the bottom of the crib. Guess I am lucky there they could have tied it to the ceiling. Lot of good it would have done there too.

Ok so I am tied into this harness and it is tied to the bottom of the crib. All of the knots are square knots. Now they get the notion that perhaps I might get out of this. So they grab the single mattress off of the bed in the room with my crib and tie it to the top of the crib with you guessed it square knots. So here I am tied into a harness that is tied to the bottom of the crib with a mattress tied to the top of the crib. Not a nice picture if you ask me. Well I am not quite two so they did not ask me. They close the bedroom door and go to the dining room to play cards. They do not hear anything and think that I just gave up and went to sleep. Fat chance!

Ten minutes goes by and they are enjoying their game of cards when they hear the television set turn on. It was one of those twenty one inch floor models that made a high pitch squeal when the tube warmed up. Well they come out to the living room and there I am sitting on the floor watching TV. They could not believe it and went into the bedroom. Not one knot was untied. The harness was still secured to the bottom of the crib and the mattress was still secured to the top of the crib. They actually told the family doctor about this and he started to call me baby Houdini.

Power tools

Ok picture this. You are given a task to perform. You want to do your best job. You want to impress your father. He is hardly ever home and you figure doing this for him might get you a bit of time with him. So you go outside and see a lot of skids piled high. He tells you that you need to take the circular saw and cut up all the skids. He shows you how long he wants them. Then he hands you a circular saw. You have never used one before and you feel the power of new experience. It feels great you are doing something good to help your Dad.

Well you go to cut the first piece and he sees that you do not use the thumb tab to lift the safety guard and tells you that you have to use your thumb to lift the guard to start cutting. He then goes into the house. So you do as you were told.

Now I must interject here. I was given those instructions. I was thirteen years of age. I was not told to release the safety guard once I started cutting. This is something that you must do.

So off I go I start cutting the skids down. I am on my very last cut. I am bent over the skid and I use my thumb on the safety guard like I was told and I open that baby up. I start cutting the wood. I am three inches into the three and a half inch wood when it pinches the blade. The circular saw kicks back. This happens so fast that there is no time to think or re-act. It is done and over. I released the trigger and see a very large opening in my track pants. I do not see any blood so I figure I am good. I must have just caught the pants and tore them. Nope not so lucky. I put down the saw and open up this very large tear in my track pants and see a gaping slash in my leg. I feel faint, however I manage to stay calm and walk into the house and tell my mother that I think I need to go to the hospital. She is not facing me at this point. She has her back to me and say oh what the hell have you done now? I say uhm I sorta cut myself. I know I am in trouble for ruining my track pants and I have not finished cutting the wood, however I figured I needed to have my leg looked after first. Well she turns around and sees my leg and freaks.

I must say its not bleeding very bad. I got very lucky and missed all the larger veins and arteries in my leg. The gash is deep and long. The blade on the saw was a forty two tooth ripping blade that was seven and a quarter inches across. Well the gash in my leg was seven and a quarter inches long. Easy enough to do the math. To this day my father still has that blade with my dried blood on it. Well my mother runs outside to grab a rag to wrap my leg in. She brings in a rag that was used to clean up some spilled gas. She refused to use any of her good towels for this. So she gets me the rag and gets my fathers attention. He was on the phone, business as usual. Well he gets all freaked out and runs out to the car gets in and backs out of the driveway without me. Then realizes that I am not there he pull into the driveway and stops the car with the front tire on my foot. He then starts yelling at me to get into the car. I can understand that he was frantic and all, however some attention to detail would have been nice.

I ended up with lots of stitches and got blamed for cutting my own leg. I was grounded and teased about it for a very long time.

Welcome to my childhood. There are more and I will share them as time goes on. Right now though my scar has started to feel funny and I need a break.

Expectations

Think of monkey bars overhead. Now these monkey bars are staggered, starting with ones very close to the ground and moving upwards as you progress forward and down as you move backward. These monkey bars are very wide and there are multiple sidewalks below them. Some of the sidewalks are stationary, some are mobile like conveyor belts.

Healthy expectations are ones that are exercised regularly. They are also the ones where the person is shown a stationary sidewalk and taught to find a bar that could be reached comfortably while standing flat footed. They are then taught that its ok to go one or two bars ahead so that they have a bit of a reach. It is good to have dreams and aspirations that are a bit of a reach. It makes you that much more appreciative when you acquire them. The more gutsy of us will go three or four bars away. The risk of failure and injury is higher but the payoff is also better, normally.

Now the unhealthy expectations are the ones where you are placed on a conveyor belt and told to reach for bars that either below you or so far overhead that they are imperceptible.

How we are put on conveyor belts varies in many ways. There is a commonality though, it is all abuse. Being constantly told that you are stupid, or that you will never amount to anything are ways of setting you upon a conveyor belt and telling you to reach for bars that are below you. There is also the whats the matter with you, and the come on you can do better than that scenarios that set you up for the impossibly high bars on the forward moving conveyor belt.

Issac Newton, Albert Einstein, and many others may have grasped those bars way overhead. They did not do it from infancy however. They progressed to them, they worked hard to reach them and they did it over time.

If you feel that you can not reach your expectations perhaps you need to step off the moving sidewalk and come back a bit. Careful though as you walk back you just might hit your head on some of the bars, not expecting them to be where they are. Sometimes we set our sites on what other people believe and not on what we are capable of. This sets us up for not seeing our real potential and when you hit your head do not be so upset with the bump, be more impressed with how much further ahead you are then you expected.