A memory was revived in the childhood section of my aging brain. How life was institutionalized back then. By the institution of life that expression has to be explained by giving an example of a mental institution housed in a veteran's hospital. A rather cumbersome sentence wrapped in awkward detail. The opening of a book to chapter one of someone's life as narrated by a little girl. This child is the observer. She absorbs and makes the effort to understand the insanity of her father's behavior and her mother's lack of understanding. Childhood is the stage where learning is of paramount importance. This learning is to be used in adult life as we interact with others and work.
How my child mind attempts to interpret mother's non-verbal stare. Is my role in this family to be acted out as an adult both mentally as well as physically? What about father's mental illness; it was never explained to me! Where do my feelings and emotional support belong? I have observed my family falling apart at the seams with no fabric glue to bind it. Hopes and dreams of togetherness are carried downstream and crash against the grey rocks.
Fantasy life has its purpose of acting as a buffer to ease the pain of reality. Play mom's 78 rpm records and physically spin clockwise to reach that euphoric sense of fun. Go ahead wear out that carpet, the linoleum and the soles of your shoes! Ecstasy is on the forefront. Daydream about the boy a grade ahead of you. After all dancing with him is just plain fun. If fortune telling the future was my gift then in a few years I would imagine myself with that Fab Four.
Mom had a habit of crying for no reason at all. When I questioned her as to what the problem would be, her reply was "It's nothing". It must be something otherwise she would not be crying. The problem must be me then. She must be crying because of me.
The adults in the family would converse amongst one another regarding problems. Childhood and adulthood were quite separate in those days. There is not a memory in my head of an adult explaining and supporting my needs as to how family life would different from now on.
As years passed a facade of an unnatural smile or acting silly was the fence around my own depression. A feeling of failing and not being "tough" eroded my poise and self confidence. Those were the days where I felt I should have been in a mental hospital. There, I felt my needs would have been met.
Raising children is serious business. It is a commitment not to be taken lightly. If one has children and needs guidance in child rearing, then seek it out.
