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If I were to write about the past, I could tell you many things.
I could tell you how it feels to be boarded in a strange home
as a child. I could describe the emptiness, the terrible, never ending
sadness that comes to a child when she is not accepted on an equal
basis in a family circle.
I could tell you how a child in that position naturally starts
to build a solid wall around her. Each time she is hurt, the wall
becomes thicker. Each time she is disappointed or betrayed by her
childish standards, the wall becomes harder to penetrate. Finally,
that wall completely wraps the child in defiance and contempt. Her
cries for help are not heard through the wall. Her tears are not seen
through the wall. Her feelings are hidden by the wall and no one in
the entire world cares enough to look behind that wall. Not one person
makes a sustained effort to release the child from her self-imposed
prison!
I could tell you what motivates a juvenile delinquent, but others
have told the story better. I could dwell on the subject of alcoholism
and give an earthy view of a drunken stepfather, but here too, others
have already enlightened the public. I could tell you about war, but
even second hand, my description would be morbid and sickening. I
could tell you about confusion and frustration and the hopelessness
of being trapped, but what good would it do? Would it help you?
Would it help me?
I do not want to spread bitterness. I want to erase it - - -
from you, from me, from my children. We all know life is not perfect.
But to some of us in our shells it is only through a long, difficult
struggle, that we realize life, imperfect as it is, can still be
decent, productive and worthwhile.
Once that wall is started, it is cemented through years of distrust
and resentment. It is never completely torn down. Even with loved
ones constantly working, picking, chipping away, there is always
someone or something, which will keep the foundation from crumbling.
I can see over my wall now thanks to those, who took the
trouble to cut out a window. I can spread my arms straight out to my
friends and touch them, because there is no longer a barrier keeping
me from them. I can even jump across the obstruction and be free of
torment and suspicion. But there are still times, when I am forced
back behind that stockade, back to the black, ugly pit of loneliness
and despair.
Slowly, with patience and strength, I am learning to vault this
wall under my own power. I want to know the people on the other side.
I do not want to bring them in - - - I want to go out!
That is why, I will not write about the past!
Today is here, with a fresh, clean taste. There is so much to
do today. There is so much to see and to remember about today.
Tomorrow is coming, bright with promise. Let it come! Let it
come! I am ready. Yesterday is dimming and I am ready!
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