Creating My Personal Path Through Life

Mom and Dad prepared me as best they could for life. I learned to question things I didn't understand, or people who claimed to have all the answers. Knowledge is readily available, but you have to seek it out throughout your life. I was the kid in school who always questioned the teacher or shared my observations from life when they didn't align with what the teacher expected. I was never the popular kid; I was the geek/nerd for lack of a better term. I found my solace and refuge in books nd music. I grew up isolated on a farm with no brothers or sisters, so my social skills were underdeveloped when I entered school. I used the real-life lessons my parents taught me to be kind and respectful to everyone, and not to tolerate hatred or discrimination.

After a fire burned down the farmhouse, we moved into the nearby small town where Mom and Dad bought a house. Dad always said that it was us against the world, and he was right in so many ways. If my parents made a mistake, it was in the house that they bought. It was in an older neighborhood; most of the homeowners were elderly and had died, leaving their houses to speculators who rent them to transients. I had little opportunity to make friends my own age, or if I did, they soon moved away. Most of the kids in school at that point either lived in the suburbs or on the far side of town. I started 7th grade without many friends, and the others had already formed bonds from their time together earlier. I was in the band and the marching band, but that didn't stack up against the jocks, of course. I realize now, over 50 years later, that this was when my Anxiety and Depression started. I was clueless at the time. I still took life as it came, making a difference whenever and wherever I could. My grades remained strong, nd I didn't have a problem until I got to chemistry, both in the textbook and in person. I got my first taste of inadequacy from the chemistry class, and my first taste of rejection from the opposite sex. The second hurt was more painful than the first. I remained a loner, but a happy loner. I couldn't miss what I've experienced; like Dad said, "If you never had it, then it's jealousy and envy, and those are dangerous emotions to harbor." 

Eventually, I made a few friends, mainly from the band community, but I still felt inadequate in many ways. My attempts to get involved with the cool kids always failed, and then I realized that any initial success was just a buildup to a big letdown. I couldn't laugh it off; it hurt, but I refused to show it because that would only invite more attempts. Eventually, they found another target and forgot about me. I kept growing, and due to hormones and emotional growth. Every day, I learned a lesson that wasn't in any book. By my senior year, I had gained a certain level of respect because the jocks knew that they had no fun trying to provoke me anymore. The opposite sex was no better. They would lure me into a false sense of security. That is just a recipe for more embarrassment. 

I did some savage receipts, and those actions solidified my reputation as someone not to fuck with, which was exactly what I wanted. Their threats were empty; I never showed fear to them, although I was terrified inside, because that would have unleashed an unending frenzy of abuse that I avoided. I couldn't wait to get out of that town!

They couldn't read me anymore. I preferred my anonymity; I was safe. I made plans to get away from there more than ever before. Because my parents moved to that town, they weren't "well-respected," and never would be until there were three generations of family dead and buried in the local cemetery. The cool kids had parents such as doctors, lawyers, and bankers; there were distinctly class-driven boundaries that very few, if any, could cross. 

My Dad died in the spring of 1981, my Junior year in high school. I prepared for that day because Dad was getting sicker and sicker. I wasn't emotional; I was there to support Mom the best way I could. I started my Senior year in high school in the fall of 1981. Mom had money saved up, and I was going to college. That started earlier than expected. The Railroad Retirement Board called Mom and told her my education benefits would eld end in January 1982 unless I enrolled as a full-time college student. I had to work with the high school academic counselors to make sure I still took the necessary classes to graduate in the morning, so I could spend the afternoon at the local community college to retain my benefits.

At least I was away from the cool kids and their silly reindeer games. I missed the Prom because I lost interest, since I was a part-time high school student and a full-time college student. My interest in high school evaporated instantly. I learned necessary life lessons and survival skills throughout my life, and this period taught me that nothing lasts forever and that life is a constant struggle. Life is full of changes, and you have to roll with them. My friends involved themselves in the traditional Senior activities, and we lost touch with each other. They knew I was leaving town in the fall of 1982 to attend the University of Kentucky. 

I began to explore who I was at the University of Kentucky, my first extended stay away from home. I continued playing music and joined the marching band, mainly to get into football and basketball games for free. I got involved with a new circle of friends, again centered on music. Although I was a Political Science major, the people in those classes were never friends because everyone went their separate ways after class. I wanted to be in a band, but in the early to mid-1980s, people were heavily into synthesized music, and I wanted creativity.

I realized that my parents taught me well about being an individual and about living on my own. I ate my meals at the campus cafeteria or at fast-food restaurants, and I read a book in my dorm. I already knew how to cook, so that wasn't a problem when I eventually got a place of my own. The first year, I had a roommate, but I knew that I couldn't endure that for more than 1 year.

I learned another valuable lesson from college: one must deal with all types of people in everyday life, from a much wider range of experience than I grew up around. Learning this lesson was invaluable as I moved through life. I wandered from job to job, trying to find the spot where I fit in and could start chasing the "American Dream." I never had a serious relationship in college, and when I was on my own, I was too focused on finding that perfect career. Eventually, I enlisted in the US Navy.

I enlisted because I wanted to get into a particular job field, not assigned as the low man on the totem pole in a role that didn't suit me. I stayed for 10 years before Mom's health prompted me to get out and be nearby for her. I was with her when she died, and by that time, I met my partner, Hal. We had been together for only a year, but on an earlier visit with Mom, she and Hal bonded instantly. Mom passed away on February 4, 2001.

Mom, February 6, 1925 - February 4, 2001.

I know that I met Hal when I did because of Karma. I don't know exactly how, but I was in a downward spiral towards self-destruction. I drank heavily, I smoked too much, I didn't take care of myself. I felt completely inadequate to succeed in life, despite the lessons my p It took me forever to realize life is meant to be lived and enjoyed, rather than endured and survived. My parents taught me. Hal slowly brought me back to life without preaching or nagging. He was here for me when I needed someone,m and we are still together 26 years later.

I found a civilian job as a Navy contractor, and I was finally content. I realized that the "American Dream' was actually a nightmare with legal attachments. In addition to working to support oneself, one was also working to support the family unit. I never desired to be a father. I do well around children, but I couldn't handle them 24/7/365. Hal and I have a happy, great life together with our cats.

Henry (top), Jax (second from top), Jordan (Orange), and Willow (bottom)

I'm not the average 62-year-old, but I don't want to be. I endured physical and mental pain, but my parents and my experiences taught me that these problems are a part of life that we must navigate and endure. Each day presents new challenges, um opportunities, and it is up to us to make our journeys as interesting and exciting as possible.