In my last post, Ralph made the comment that no-one has a perfect childhood and that every kid will have to “work it out” through the dysfunction they’re subjected to. Because problems build character, right?
Well… I agree with him that life lends itself to trouble and compromise, and we’re all given challenges we must address and survive through. Where we differ though is our perception of how each individuals’ personal struggles do or do not threaten society. If only we all could function and react to life in our own little personal vacuums…
I once read a book called “The Lost Boys”- Why Our Sons Turn Violent and How We Can Save Them… The book is incredibly illuminating- James Garbarino eloquently describes the patterns of childhood and adolescent environments in which future criminals develop in. Little boys who fail to receive key experiences in good parenting, may be doomed to a future fraught with insecurity, anger and psychiatric antagonism. In other words, when someone down the street fails to responsibly raise their kid, your safety is jeopardized.
When I was in high-school, dealing with a step-dad I loathed coming home to, crying out for help through misbehavior, but with no one capable of pin-pointing where my problems came from, I had to “cope” with my non-perfect childhood- just like everyone does, right? Because my parents and all the prevailing authorities agree that deliberately denying a child their father is perfectly fine and has no negative effect on the kid, my slip-ups, poor grades, and substance abuse was a matter of my own personal character flaws. I waded through the murky swamps of my issues alone with no compass and no keen, insightful adults around willing or able to help.
I remember keeping a full bottle of vodka in my sock drawer, replenishing it once or twice a week. I remember driving my big, heavy old F150 home from parties two or three days a week drunk out of my mind. I was coping! I was numbing the pain and treating the symptoms effectively. And then I was threatening my life and everyone else’s life on the road with my 2,000 lb hunk of metal and “diminished” capacities.
Later, in college, I decided that the reason I was so unlovable by men was because I wasn’t skinny enough. My unenlightened mind kept searching for answers to my abandonment. So I thought about the “easiest” (mom always taught me the pleasures of ease) road to thinness (and love), i.e. meth. Cool, right? I don’t know if any of you have tried meth, but the come down basically turns you into a raging, vitriol-spewing hag. Kind of un-lovable. I lost weight but the self-hatred proliferated.
I did a pretty good job of rebounding quickly, luckily I’m cute and its easy for me to find people to pull me out of misery, but my point is that, if you’ve ever known a miserable person, perhaps a down-n-out druggie or even just a jealous, insecure nay-sayer, you may have observed the ripple of their radiating gloom.
My old best friend from high school, for example (surprise! another fatherless kid) got into heroin real bad and ended up stealing $10,000, yes TEN THOUSAND dollars from our mutual friend’s parents.
All to fill the void of despair.
So please, let’s be honest about the profound consequences of mismanaging the development of our kids. It’s not just their problem. It’s ours too.
I am he as your are he as you are me and we are all together. How many times do I have to say it?
