Tonight is tough. I've always felt weird, I thought I didn't fit in. I thought, if I just be myself, people won't like me, or God knows what. I don't know. It's not unusual, I realize that. I grew up with classy parents in a greed-driven dress-for- I success neighborhood. It was a bad fit. I faded into the background, driven by fear. Yeah, there were lots of crazy things going on and we'd moved from a neighborhood where I felt accepted and had friends. In the "new" neighborhood, I was quiet, so shy. I didn't speak up, didn't want to be at school, didn't really want to be at home. And I was angry at everyone. No one tried to draw me in, I was very alone in a Alice in Wonderland household.
I got out at sixteen, kidnapping a sweet young boy and having a baby. Not a good choice for the time, but it worked out well for both of us as time went on. I earned a scholarship and earned college degrees and learned confidence as an artist. But the anger still sits there. I'm still hurt because dingbats didn't want to message me back, didn't want to be facebook friends. Jeez, would I have liked them? Probably not. If they didn't want to talk to me, why not trust them as somehow divining that I wouldn't like them. I'm not kidding myself. I'm still a child hurting, wanting to be liked, accepted, respected. I wish I could think myself out of this. I've found myself and I think I appreciate myself and what I have. I would love to be friends with me but somehow, knowing that doesn't end this garbage. Nevertheless, I think that's part of the key, if not all. I'm far from perfect and I'm not even interested in being perfect. My parents, my family, were unusual and that's hard on kids, but as a grown up, I'm so grateful for their individuality, for what they gave me, for who I am. I don't know why anybody wouldn't want to get to know me, but I'm intense, I know stuff, I'm curious, I could be intimidating. I don't one up or any of that, but I'm a whole person. I stay away from people generally. Their coldness, their cautiousness, and guardedness upsets me. I don't like it and don't want to be around it. To me, it's creepy. I know it works for the other person, but I don't like to be around it and it's so much of what I see. So here I am, painting away for Christmas and getting ready for bedtime reading. I wish Jerry were still alive. I could have talked with him about this. I lost him six long years ago. Nothing more to be said. Losing someone so close to your heart never heals. That's just the way it is. I'm still happy I'm me and he was a part of the path.