It wasn't until I became an adult that I realized not everyone does well in school. You see, even though I was a rebellious hellion, school always came easy for me and I never had to open a book to learn enough to get good grades. I always assumed school was easy for everyone. The oblivion I seemed to be surrounded by held me in its grasp until I became an adult. Slowly, I started to realize everyone, even me had things in which they excel. My problem seemed to be that most people started to develop their talents and academic skills at an early age. Someone usually recognized that a child had an aptitude, skill or talent in a certain area that exceeded the norm. That child was then steered in a particular direction so those areas could be showcased and developed. I never got that tap on the shoulder from anyone telling me "hey you're pretty good at that". I guess I slid through the cracks and my creativity remained a well-guarded secret.
Drawing and writing just seemed to be part of who I was and no big deal was ever made of the fact that I could do both. Maybe my three older brothers stole the spotlight by being jocks or perhaps I was just meant to aimlessly wander with no direction. You see, I lived in a void that kept me from developing any real potential I may have had at an early age. The pats on the back that most people get wasn't something I had experienced. I didn't know what encouragement felt like. Thus, it wasn't until I became an adult and started to see that not everyone functions on the same level that I started to question the basic differences in people.
I've always enjoyed writing since I was a young child, but only felt my skills were adequate at best. While in college, I wrote with ease and enjoyed the classes in which I had to do research and/or put my thoughts in written words. Still I never recognized graduating with high academic honors was any major accomplishment. To be honest, I never felt especially challenged by any of it. It was just something I did!
During the past several years, I've gone through a very difficult period. Often times, I've felt empty, rejected and unappreciated. What I wanted most just wasn't in my reach and I felt a silent despair that drove me further into what I lovingly call being a hermit. Each day I sank a little more and became so isolated that I turned away from most everyone I loved. I know my family just thought my change was caused by the chronic physical pain I feel, but my withdrawal from life wasn't due to physical pain. What held me prisoner was the mental anguish I felt.
One evening several years ago while I was online, I was contacted by a man who had been to my personal website before sending me an instant message. He had gone to my yahoo profile first and then followed the link from it to my website. My website was a work in progress that I had created during a long string of late night insomnia sessions. I purposely kept it from ever being complete because it gave me something to play with when I couldn't sleep. I really felt anyone going there would get a "feel" for who I am because I had put so much thought into every aspect of what was there. After enduring the realm of Karen, this brave soul sent me a message asking me if I am a writer. I found that amusing to say the least. I began chatting with him and before long he introduced me to the world of blogging. He encouraged me to write and talked to me everyday. We developed a fast friendship and went from chatting online to talking on the telephone. In spite of his busy schedule, he read my blog faithfully and always gave me feedback on everything I wrote.
It felt great to get encouragement and have someone show an interest in me. I don't know if I ever thanked him enough for that, but I definitely credit him for me being here in the blogosphere today! After about 2 months of daily contact, it came to a screeching halt. Don't ask me why...it's just one of life's unsolved mysteries. I'm not a pushy person and have never been one to go where I feel I'm not wanted, so I just let it go. I just chalked it up to another one of those strange internet relationships that sometimes happens. The cyber gods ate him and then, I was on my own. So here I am folks! Mildred Ratched in all her glory. Right, wrong or indifferent, I'm here and will always write it like I see it or feel it.
Gratitude statement: I'm thankful that the written word has always been my friend and my loving companion.
All gibberish within ©2004-2010 Mildred Ratched Memoirs.