Life is a disaster at times. I know my life has gotten away from me when I wasn’t watching. My son grew into a seven-year old with a lot of angst. Still trying to figure that out.
I had a really good childhood up until I was nine, then a classic case of divorce really affected me. – Kurt Cobain
Early on I knew that things would not be good, my parents divorced when I was in third grade. It was one of the defining moments of my childhood. I knew my mom didn’t live with us anymore, but I never really found out why. The only answer I got was, “they didn’t like each other anymore”, that was from my sister.
I used to wonder what kind of person I would be had my parents stayed married. I stopped doing that after I found out more of the details of their divorce.
It is always the would of, could of or should of that kill any enthusiasm I had as teenager.
If I would have done this then this might have happened. Or I could have done this and it would have led me to a certain thing. Or I should have said this to that person.
When men ask me how I know so much about men, they get a simple answer: everything I know about men, I learned from me.- Anton Chekhov
The knowing who I am now the person I am now, the writer I am now. All of my experiences as a kid led me to write the stories I write. They gave me the inspiration I only had to put it on paper.
There is more to life than looking back on it with the thoughts of would of, could of and should of.
When I was in middle school things were rough, I was bullied daily, I stopped going to school and nearly dropped out because of it. I know my dad didn’t know what was going on, he was too busy with his own life to worry about mine.
I eventually left my dad and moved in with my mom and step-dad. Changing schools and no one knowing who I was and the girls, oh boy, the girls at the new school, that was the best part. Girls always seem to go crazy over the new kid. I didn’t understand it until my wife explained it to me.
“It’s the mystery of something new, she said.”
I was okay with it then, I thought it was cool, especially after the torture I went through at the other school. But my dad was always this tough guy, his viewpoint was “don’t let anyone pick on you”, yeah that’s really easy for someone who had been out of high school for fifteen years.
My dad was always this big guy that I looked up to, always someone who I respected for a long time. After that went away and things fell apart between us I stopped caring what people thought of me. And I started thinking about who I was and what kind of person my life had made me. I started to wallow in self-doubt, at times contemplating suicide.
After the depression and my dad not talking to me again went away and I focused on what matters, and not the “would of, could of or should of“, things got better.
My writing took flight, either from my dad’s comments about me never being a writer and no one ever caring what I write I’m not sure. I do know that I have written two books, five short stories, a few songs and got rid of a lot anger in the process.
That process has taken me to the very depths of my unconscious mind. The part where the skeletons rattle their chains and the demons scratch at the cellar door. This place is where I now find myself, searching for that thing I lost when I was eight and my parents divorced, that sense of innocence.
But that is more, “would of, could of or should of.”
Please use the share buttons at the bottom and like buttons at the top of the post if you enjoyed the post.