Entry One

Present

There's a guy in my office that jiggles and plays with the change in his pocket all day long. I find his habit to be extremely irritating and infuriating. There are days when I just want to rip the loose change from his pocket and shove it down his throat. I just don't understand how some people can be so oblivious to their own annoying behaviors.

Past

I was born the youngest and only daughter of three children. My mother was relatively young when I was born. She gave birth to 3 children within 4 years before the age of 25, not to mention a miscarriage somewhere in between. She was vastly inexperienced at child rearing and with being away from her family, she didn’t have many people to help her out. I’m sure many times she felt alone and abandoned, which may have fostered her anxiety issues later in her life.

One of the earliest memories of my childhood was when I was only about a year old. I remember being on a hot, stuffy bus going from Virginia to California with my mother and two brothers. Even though the memory is a bit vague and blurry, I do remember my mother’s frantic attempts to keep my brothers calm while she changed my diaper. She was frazzled and stressed out and even at the age of one, I felt deep sympathy for her predicament. Probably one of the few times I ever felt that way towards my mother.

My father was in the Navy and the bus ride was a result of him being reassigned to the West Coast. My father was home long enough to help pack and arrange for a moving van, but wasn’t allowed to assist my mother in driving us to California…thus the long, hot bus ride. Even though the inconvenient travel arrangements had not been my father’s fault, I know my mother never forgave him for the hell she went through during that trip.

We lived in California until I was about three, maybe four. Again, several early memories but some are a bit muddled. My first memory of California was of me running in the backyard of our Navy assigned housing unit, trying to catch bees with an empty baby powder container in the shape of a Disney character (Pluto?). Even at the age of 2, I knew the holes were necessary to keep the bees alive. Never caught one nor was a stung. There are many more carefree memories of my childhood in California I could rehash, but I won’t. Not necessary in my opinion. The most significant memories were the parties my parents used to have at their house. Mainly because they involved my first experiences with alcohol. I remember going from person to person, taking a sip of beer or wine, whatever was being offered to me. My parents thought it was so cute and actually encouraged the behavior. Other important memories in my development include my mother’s constant state of stress, anxiety and depression. There were daily fights between my parents, screaming and shouting with me crying in the background.

At some point my mother went to the doctor to see what could be done about her mental state. She needed something to calm her nerves, dull her senses. The doctor gave her the miracle cure, “Mother’s Little Helper”, aka Valium. That was the beginning of an addiction that lasted nearly 25 years. Other serious addictions followed, but I will discuss them at a later time.