Jennifer

I remembered the name of someone I knew when I was very little,
before my assigned friend, both of us in second grade, moved in across the street.
I searched on her name, and in Facebook. Didn’t find her.
Hoping she was still here, that she made it. 
Such an addict in junior high and high school. 

A few weeks later, her picture pops up in Facebook! 
In her profile, she is married, plays guitar a little. 
She is still alive and this is what she has done with her life. 

I can’t believe it. I am comparing my insides to her outsides.
Pictures show her and the people around her drinking. 

Compare and contrast that with what I did to earn love in my family.
Not received, by the way, impossible.
Raised my younger brother.
Performed excellently in school, my currency for living, for taking up space in their house.
Paying them back through work and codependence well learned, 
for what it cost for me to be in that house. 
The well-learned role of a responsibility addict. 
Accessing the freeways of feelings that went with responsibility - from the inner drug store. 

Got married to get out. Did my absolute best at taking responsibility for everything there.
Two planned children. With shades of dad in the background saying,
“You’re not a real person until you have kids.” (By the way, he hated all 3 of us kids.)

An MS in Math, 4.0 grade point average, and graduating with honors.
Nope, not enough.
College math teacher. Nope, not enough.
Reinvented myself into a technical writer.
Worked in software development, to earn enough money to raise two kids. 
Nope, not enough.
Burned out, needed to get away. Too many flashbacks, divorce taking 12 years to finalize.
Moved out of state. 

I could have done less.
Been more moderate, less of a perfectionist.
I could have. 
But could I?

Until I found ACA, and found my graduate program for life.
How to live life, take care of me, and gradually build a sense-of-self,
a sense of grounding, boundaries, and a higher existence on my happiness meter.

No longer flailing around at 0 and below the floor.
There has been a shift lately. I am at about 70-80% happiness.
My math mind choosing numbers to leave room for improvement…
How did this happen? I could do this a day at a time for a lifetime… 

I hope Jennifer is happy with her life. Her mom is there too. 
I knew her as the woman with a glass with wine in it anytime I was over.
And this was very young… Hmm… A maintenance drinker?

Lena L