Excellent The results of trauma can have a life long effect Part Two - Long Time To Ponder by Lulube

cont. Part Two Long Time To Ponder Perhaps my unsettled, wild side was given birth that day in October, when I had just entered into grade eight? It was a life changing event that ignited aggression, to the point of intimidation, delivered by an ice cold front. My boundaries were extended into accepting the new "crowd" I had stumbled upon, on Fourth avenue, in Vancouver, B. C., in the year 1969. This was the hippy hangout section in the city. I worked hard to maintain the pre-set threshold limits, where all seemed to reach a "lack of trust" issue. I would just sit and wait, while watching for that deceit to spill out of someone and turn on me. I strove to uphold, the inner-most pride that I have, for the morals that were instilled upon me, by my mother. These morals, along side my mother, have given me an anchor to hold onto, stopping me from sliding into the depths of no return. Mind you, these strong morals that allowed me to say, "nah, not for me," positioned myself into becoming a target for all the insecure, jealous, thieving, parasitical losers that my working job for twenty-two years, "bartending", surrounded me with. I became a "hard" bitch, that worked in "hard" bars in fishing villages. It's just the way I had to become to gain the respect I needed to run a safe environment for the patrons and the staff. Not all were of the unwanted type, the bars weren't in purgatory or anything but not the average hotel lounge. If you've been lucky enough in getting to know me, you found a little girl, struggling in life, with the tears that do flow. Now in my senior years and I'm far from perfection, I just don't seem to care about what's going on around me anymore. I'd like to think that I've figured out who I am, with all my defects and have worked on what needed to be changed, (mostly). I'm at an accepting stage; that I'm not going to worry about all I've not completed but finish, that which has the highest importance to me. I'm filled with love from my only child, a daughter, who has given me a lovely grand daughter. She is the bright light in my life now. There's nothing to prove to anyone and nobody from my past see's me, for I've moved a hundred miles away. My neighbors are my casual associates and my cat and puppy fill my days in the home. So I ponder over my life and wonder how different it would be if I had never gone to the park, that day in October. It was the meeting-up with, a group of friends from the elementary school we had just graduated from. Some of the girls and I had been playing baseball for three years, together. One girl had been my best friend. We would meet, then go to an open house at the school to say hi to our past teachers. Just something to do. I was the first one at the park and I climbed up the five ft. high, half circled, cement brick wall and sat there waiting. I saw a group of about six girls and two boys, (that's only a guess), walking towards me. I sensed a foul energy in front of me, as the best friend and her older sister with her friend (that I'd never seen before), stood three ft. from where I sat on the wall and the rest of the group stood on the side lines. Before I could ask what was going on, the girl I'd never seen before, pulled me down off the wall and I landed on the ground, it gave my head a rattle from the hard landing. She started kicking me in the legs and torso, while someone was pulling my long hair and another was punching my face. Somehow I managed to scramble up and ran towards the swings but I was pulled down and the kicking and hair pulling started again. I sat under the swings, crossed-legged, in shock and not feeling a thing, waiting for a chance to escape. The rest of the group was just standing there watching me get beaten up. I could not comprehend that these were my friends. They were shouting at me but I never heard anything they said. I think that me being silent, stopped the fury they had to maim me. When they stood back a bit, I jumped up and ran like the wind out of the park, towards the road to take me home. No one could catch me, I was the fastest runner in my elementary school and I knew it to use it. I actually stayed in the track and field sport until I finished school. Maybe this day was my inspiration for doing so well in the sport. I received the most valuable, female, sport player award, out of the entire school, when I was in grade ten. When I reached home, it was empty, no parents were home, no siblings were home. The shock was wearing off and I was starting to really hurt, everywhere. There were huge bumps coming up all over my head and as I ran my fingers through my hair, it came out in clumps. There were deep bruises forming all over my body and face. I was horrified. I ran to a friend's place a couple of houses away. She took me inside and I just fell apart on her. She reached my parents later and they came and took me home. No charges were ever laid, after all we were friends and still played ball on the same team, (totally awkward) with the best friend. I've never talked to any of those that I remember being at the park that day. I never played ball the next year or any year there after. Is this assault the reason for a life of depression and terrible mood swings with lack of coping capabilities? Do I have brain damage from the kicks in the head? Possibly, but I was never taken to a hospital. Back then the concern for concussion was not an awareness. So I still live with the buried pain. I never found out what the reasons were for this deceit, from my so-called friends, that wanted to disable me. I have been taking anti-depressants for many years. I've also been struggling with major, chronic back pain, major headaches and kidney infections that have now formed into a kidney disease. Was that day a contributing factor to my ailments? One of my questions to myself is, whether I should carry on until my death, not knowing why I was pummeled or should I find one of those friends on facebook and just come out and ask them? Or should I totally accept the fact that it is what it is and try to forget it once and for all? I mean I was just a young teenager when it happened, after all. And would finding an answer make a difference or would it send me further into a depression from an answer being "for no real reason at all?" For most of my life, that day has consumed my deepest thoughts and nothing has been given or learnt, to rid of the pain. What would my life be like if it had never happened? Would I still have some mental problems. Was this responsible totally, for the hardships I've encountered because of the disposition I found myself in and the notions to battle the rest of my life away? It's been a long time to ponder over that day and I'm so tired, but grateful, for knowing that soon, in the upcoming years, I will remember less and less. I have to laugh at that and not give a damn. Author Notes not intentionally asking the reader questions, but if you feel inclined to offer your opinions, I won't be offended

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