Rewriting my Life Story

I didn’t walk away from my childhood intact. I know the term “dysfunctional” really has lost the impact it once held. But my parents alcoholism, my father’s mental breakdown with subsequent institutionalizations, consequently ending in his suicide; and how my parents modeled the perfect co-dependent relationship in front of us children as we were growing up, left somewhat of a certain imprint on my psyche.

Leaving my childhood home behind, left me with a lot of work to do. Work on myself, of course. It took me more than a good decade or so to even acknowledge everything that was not okay with me. I was so intend on living a “better” life than my parents, that I never gave myself much thought. Good gosh, I can’t tell you how hard I was on myself. All those years. After each of my parents death, I had the mix of emotions that one gets that holds the good to perfection and the bad to the “if only” blaming.

I am finally coming to understand the totality of their humanity. Not making any excuses and not laying any blame. My daily task is to remain in appreciation. Appreciation for everything that was given despite their own internal struggles.

In taking back a long enough step and seeing things not from my child’s eye view anymore, I am finally beginning to write how I want my life story

to be.