Sunday, December 11, 2011

Week 6, autobiographical 'slice' & imagination

Odd one Out


My sociability has always been somewhat of an issue, for everyone else. I prefer my somewhat reclusive lifestyle but it has given me trouble from the very start…

I was in the fifth grade. Mrs. Ritchie was my teacher. She always had tea and hated, I mean really hated, chewing gum. On my out the door to go home one day she pulled me aside.

“Take this to your mother.” She says as she hands me the envelope. “Make sure you give it to her and don’t open it.” That entire long bus ride home, about an hour, I sat stewing over the envelope… What had I done? I didn’t think I had done anything… I hand it to my mother as soon as I get home. My mother reads the note looks at me.

“This says you don’t play with your friends enough. It says you would rather hide behind the bookshelf and read than go play with your friends, and Mrs. Ritchie is concerned… Why don’t you play with your friends?”

“I just like to read.”

In High school I was more social, but not much. I had my own troubles and really didn’t want to have anyone else’s. I was never part of any group in particular. I got along with everyone, but none of my classmates were my friend if that makes sense. The people I had been going to school with my whole life and they were not my friends. I had friends from lower grades, but to be perfectly honest, when I went to someone’s house it was always their parents I would talk to.  I didn’t leave home much though, just school and the occasional visit. I lived in seclusion then, and I liked it. It was nothing but the woods, my animals, and me.

The ages of twenty thru almost twenty two are nothing but an alcoholic haze; however I do know I socialized then….  At the age of twenty two I experienced a loss that pushed me back into my seclusion. The death of my daughter basically drove me to work as many hours as I could. I had three jobs, and not much time to sleep, which had become even harder to do. I drank in between jobs so I could sleep. I rarely talked to anyone because I simply did not allow myself the time.

Now at twenty eight, I still prefer to be home by myself, but can’t. I have two boys who need to be socialized. When opportunity arises I grab at it though. Like right now, this very moment, is the first time since the birth of my 4 year old that I have had a night and now the next day, without kids. Being a single parent…. Wow. It feels weird…but nice.  I have missed my time. Now I understand what everyone meant when they kept telling me I needed to have some time for myself.  I have missed me.

1 comment:

  1. This works as an autobiographical slice and is a tough, interesting topic--nice incisive little paragraphs and vignettes. I must say though that I got lost in the last three sentences, particularly the next to last--this is the first your reader has heard of this.

    ReplyDelete