Morning all. I had one hell of a rant planned for today, but decided that the vetter part of my time was spent thinking about why I wanted to rant versus whether or not the rant was worth it.
Yesterday, I realized that it had beeen 31 years since I graduated high school. I haven’t kept in touch with more than one human I made that accomplishment with. For the most part, I haven’t thought about that school in my life, let alone it’s place in my own history.
Yet, once in awhile, I will have a nightmare about back then. This is normally not trauma related, and most of the time I just don’t care. I have other things to worry about.
For example, I am much more concerned about what’s for supper, and if I am going to eat before the next meeting or not. I am interested in replaying the whole game merging dragons, to get more points per level. I am wondering if we can afford fruit on the next grocery order.
I’m thinking about what I’m going to stitch next, and what I am going to post here to the blog. I am thinking about my husband’s Dr’s appointment, and the next surgery he is going to have. I worry about the cyst that my dog has on his leg, and a bump he has on his face.
I’m praying for my friends that have moved away, and helping my friends that live locally. I’m interested in what I have to speak about the next time I go to aftercare to speak, and what the clients there are doing.
I could care more about what happened during my personal education experiences, but I really don’t. I still have a half a shot of spelling something correctly, so there’s that. In that, my teachers succeeded. I still know how to type, and I can bandage a wound if needed. I can add, subtract, multiply, and divide. That’s good enough.
Most of my trauma from the past before I moved out of the house was at home, and not from the institution that I was required to attend. In many ways, it was going to school that saved me from some abuse.
So, I am not a victim from what happened during my school years. Yet, I don’t want to go to any reunions. I have no desire or business visiting that facility, or seeing the children or grandchildren of my class mates. They did the best they could with what they had, as does everybody I figure.
So, at least in this case, no, I’m not a victim.
Hugs my friends, peace be with you. -L