Sunday, 15th November 2015
Dearest Friend,
The pressure in college has increased somewhat.
I now find that assignments are beginning to pile up and deadlines again are becoming my greatest enemy...
I'm sure my results won't be wasted - it can't be bad that I at least attempt what's asked of me and to give it my best shot. It's interesting I say that now but when I get down to work I'm an absolute nuisance!
I constantly chastise for having not done any better and am always looking towards a higher grade.
I have an awful fear of becoming an under-achiever and to imagine all my exhausted energy and efforts would amount to nothing...
I want to do well - if not to impress my family then for at least the benefit of my future career paths.
In one sense, I can't see it any other way - I have to have my own back in this and to be thinking about life after I graduate.
Not just for the sake of ideal success but to earn the possibility of building my own home in the world.
Nothing comes freely, so I must push myself that bit further and complete the tasks that are set for me - nobody else can do it for me!
If I think about it really, what more concerns me is the fear of doing things without any support.
All my life I was raised with the idea that I was incapable to ever be strong, to ever achieve anything worthwhile - having never won the class races in school, being seen as either a dunce, the class clown or being totally invisible among the crowds.
It wasn't all my imagination - for a long time growing up I was bullied in every sense of the word; physically, mentally and emotionally - I felt the huge lows of being judged and isolated.
My family's method in dealing with bullies never really brought itself into action. I was too shy and sensitive to ever use my fists and see fighting back as the answer to solving things. Partly, I can see where their encouragement comes from a good place - they wanted me to be able to protect myself and that way bullies wouldn't pick on me.
I don't know... I can't help that it goes against my nature. I'd love it if I could be tough and act out with aggression, but I just fail miserably every time that happened.
I either cry for bringing this bad luck onto myself, or I run...
I recall most of my childhood running to and from school - I always had bullies chasing me.
And it didn't help that we all lived in the same neighbourhoods.
The worst part was having to walk the long way to the school grounds - I knew ways to hide from the travellers and to make my presence unknown.
It didn't always work - not always could I put on a firm composure facing them - but I couldn't miss school because then Mum would get in trouble for my being absent.
I remember teachers themselves didn't know what to make of me - I was always that kid with the runny nose, looking for attention, distracting pupils and end up being seated right next to my teacher's desk for bad punishment.
I received a horrible beating when Mum found out and knew never to misbehave like that again...
Of course, I still found ways to have fun, but I have very vague memories of ever having good days during my time in Primary school.
Everything changed when I began to attend a special school for my learning disability, and my confidence in anything became dim. I found it very hard to accept that I had problems and always found a way to make excuses in bettering myself.
I wasn't going to let anyone label me as retarded or "special needs" - I knew I had capabilities and strengths that I just didn't yet discover...
The best decision I ever made, in terms of my education, was informing my mother that I wanted to do a Junior Certificate like any other normal student and wanted proper schooling for my development. She didn't dismiss the idea right away but wondered if I was ready for mainstream education. Teachers and the school principal of St Josephs debated it would be much too difficult at my learning capacity and urged I stay on where I was...
No way was I going to allow them to see me as a vegetable - someone unable to work and to have a dependence on people to cater for me for the rest of my life...
If I had given up, and circumstances had been different, it's likely I would have wasted away and done very little in my short years (yet) of adulthood.
I know we're only thinking of possibilities, but I honestly don't think I have a disability...
I don't want to sound bias but I believe I am quite intellectual and in touch with the creative side of my brain.
Research shows that there's in fact many forms of intelligence: Naturalist Intelligence (nature smart), Musical Intelligence, Logical-Mathematical Intelligence (Number/Reasoning smart), Existential Intelligence, Interpersonal Intelligence (word smart), Intrapersonal Intelligence (Self-smart), and Spatial Intelligence (picture Smart).
There's also a theory of us humans being more in touch with either our logical (right) or creative (left) side of our brains.
From a lot of intellectual debate from researchers, this theory is a myth or sort of an idealist concept.
Either way, I think the idea is interesting and makes a whole lot of sense... If we are open-minded enough we can notice that intelligence doesn't just take one role in life, but in fact comes in many forms - for some, it's in working things out and for others it's self-expression.
I've held this attitude for many years after reading various articles on psychology (or is it philosophy?) and have moved through big changes once I held the beliefs as motivation when acting out these goals...
I continued on going to St Joseph's for another term, often with dread and felt like I was going nowhere in my life.
I honestly felt like a prisoner in my own head and could never understand why my family would put me away in that school.
Many of the other children had severe disabilities, many in the use of wheelchairs and had down-syndrome...
I knew my issue was that of a developmental void. My reasons for having difficulty in learning was down to the fact that I had nobody to encourage me and the home situation was a very dysfunctional one - filled with alcohol and drug use, domestic violence, sexual abuse from a relative and being left with babysitters for nights on end...
How could these things not stunt a person's learning - and let's not forget the bullies either - !
I really believe that I fell behind in my education due to all the trauma and used school days as a reckless distraction from the harsh reality... The issue was purely circumstantial.
So, no, I don't believe I'm at all disabled in ways to learn but have my own ways to work things out.
In my belief, life isn't about seeking what's right or wrong - these concepts are surely imaginative to suit ourselves - but I think we're always learning through experience and growing at our own pace.
Why must be belittle the students seated at the back-row because their learning process goes against the "norm"?
My family were right when they argued not everybody is academic - by that they mean maths-knowing - but nobody is a robot, either, programmed to work and suit the structured system!
We are human beings; each with our own flaws and strengths, and all of us are unpredictable beings...
How would life ever be interesting if we were all the same? Who would want to be, anyway!
My answer is politicians, to suit their gain, but then again they would go out of business if we all agreed to bring peace tomorrow!
My only way out of leaving St Josephs was after the social workers became involved and Maria and I returned home after our three weeks of running away and being in a foster home. It was wonderful how these new strangers wanted to help us in any way they could but Maria and I became too homesick and gave in.
I don’t know if it's better we went back home because they didn't change like they said they would and it wasn't long before things got worse and we were put in relative care and taken out of Mum's wing.
Imagine...this would have been my first year of secondary school, too, and that in itself was a change that took time adapting to.
Not until I lived with my Grandmother Geraldine did teachers compliment my report cards and see an increasing improvement in my attendance effort - they even spoke of these known changes in parent-teaching meetings and told Nanny G that I've done much better for myself since I lived in her care, and they were absolutely right - sadly so...
I do empathize that all these changes had hurt Mum - I know after the girls and I left she sort of fell apart and kind of drifted away from everybody.
My Mum's relationship with Tony had ended not long after we were gone and she slowly fell into that pattern of late-night partying and heavy drug use - now that she had no responsibilities she could do what she always wanted.
In reality, she had her children to care for and love but we were badly let down and left to fend for ourselves. However, our new situation was a lot healthier and not filled with that toxic environment.
My grandparents and uncles aren't at all perfect but they have hearts of gold, and I know they think the world of me.
Not always was I able to understand their wild side of life, but I do know they come with the best of intentions.
I'm sure all my family, really, mean well - but this illusion they have of me being this great achiever and all-time goody-goody is ridiculous!
Just like anybody else, I get days where I become so fed up that I rebel and need time to get myself back together.
I've always believed that things have a natural way of working itself out, and I think this is especially the case on Mum's path.
I know deep down she is loving and has good nature for us.
No, I know she has a natural bond with my sisters, but I think a day will come when she’s' ready to be my mother and make up for the time that was lost.
She can't diminish those lonely days of childhood - but we can begin again and maybe become friends.
I can't, I simply can't, regard Mum as someone I can devote my love to - it's too painful even to try... I can't lie that when she's around I get this horrible feeling in my tummy and it reminds me of days where I was forgotten - being there but just ignored.
I know Mum was hardly conscious that she was doing this - she was so caught up in the moment to even see...
When I'm around either of my parents, that being Lisa or Owen, I feel an unnatural urge to leave the room - the sadness within can sometimes become too overwhelming.
But it’s the running away from my problems that leaves a bigger scar. I know someday we have to face them but I wish these scars were ones I inflicted onto myself, not brought on by people I should be able to turn to.
I feel it deeply - all those feelings of loneliness, of being unwanted, of never being enough and having to prove myself each day - it's like a time-bomb waiting to go off...
I feel as though I could explode from all the tension and hold all the people accountable for making me feel this hurt!
I want justice. I long for the day when my family could look to me and simply see the young man that wants their love and comfort; not to be reminded of how much of a problem I've been since the start.
They have no idea of the struggle, nor the persistence, it takes to keep going...
It would bore you to death if I were to go on explaining why their ignorance has become a great source of irritation to me (as it's been expressed in so many different contexts before) but what most bothers me is this feeling of responsibility for everything that went wrong at home...
I know things could have turned out much differently if I hadn't opened my mouth!
The consequences of that have amounted to so much loss and sorrow; it's sometimes painful to recognize the "positives" of opening up and putting an end to the secrets and inner-blame. And it only got worse once it became a reality for those in the family that were closest to us. I know at first I wasn't believed and was shifted in to see a psychologist for my "story-telling" under Mum's request, and from there it was kept quiet.
It's only natural, however, that she couldn't comprehend it and wanted to forget it - having confronted Him and he denying it in shouts wasn't enough. Mum told me of Him denying and this angered me - I was her son and she just wanted to put a lid on the problem, so I dashed out of the kitchen and rushed to the bedroom, crying "Believe what you want!" and nothing more was spoken about for a while.
I continued on going to school each morning, always wondering what the point was when Mum and Tony lay in bed hungover all day and my sisters stayed in watching cartoons.
Anyway, I've gone backwards a bit - this was a time period in November 2008 and my sisters and I lived with Mum and Tony in a small house in Garavogue villas for a short while.
I speak about that time because I remember what it was like to be confronted by a family member and made me feel as though I had done wrong of some sort.
I see now that it was inevitable I would feel this kind of insecurity, because I was lacking that need of love from my family.
It's nonsensical to expect love from people that weren't shown it themselves...
I say that with compassion, for despite my vulnerable disposition I have a lot of love to give the world and I don't believe in falling into other people's judgments of me.
I know I'm just as judgmental to assume parents were incapable to show us kids’ love - I guess the inner-child in me bemoans with that perception - and I hope you can forgive me for this pain that is temporary...
Can I let you in on a little secret?
Often I contemplate the fact that my state of thinking is like that of a child reaching out for love (obviously in the wrong places!) and through this reflective writing, I am able to seek clarity, towards moving on and achieving inner happiness...
I can feel it a little already - that precious, uplifting emotion of bliss overcoming me with sweet serenity - and I envision this most by seeing a better future insight for myself.
I can see it as clear as gazing through vintage photographs - nostalgic moments where I'm loved by friends and giving an honest smile along our travels around the world.
I see people I never knew, welcoming me into their space and sharing intimate parts of their lives and challenging experiences that have shaped their characters.
I see life going on and this deadening depression inside long defeated...
I know it can all happen - I know I can create a difference and be someone people can turn to - but I also know The Now should be valued in order to reach those possible successes.
I have to help myself first, and I must say: writing to you has always been a huge support.
Yours truly,
Jay..