For some time we have been aware of a “missing person”. This person is inside of us, but we have not been able to ‘nail’ it or him (and I’m thinking it’s a him – pretty sure; most of us are) – down.
We’ve been mostly aware of this “missing person” when we’ve sat down and have attempted our lineage – from Mikie to Matthew to M3. But someone’s missing. We know this because a) there is a big timeslot in our life “missing” (or rather, so fragmented we can only see glimpses and fuzz … the coherent ‘whole’ is there, I know and we’re sure – but only ‘pieces’ are in ‘my’ head), and B) The Voices.
The Voices (lets just describe this one) – are part of the crowd, but there’s a special one. This one goes like this:
“I wanna kill someone.” or “You are fat and ugly. You should kill yourself.” or “What’s the use. You’ve done everything. Why don’t we lay down and die?” Stuff like that.
Now we’ve learned somewhat (and we learned it from Jeffery) – when you ‘hear’ those voices in your head, you gotta ask what they are: “who” are they coming from? I mean this is some totally random stuff: you are chopping some lettuce or walking around in the yard and Boom! this thought hits you – and sometimes a wash of negative depression; blue funk kinda mood.
So we ‘ask’: “Who is that?” so we can identify who or what is having this kind of problem. Thing is: we’ve always come up empty handed.
Tell me. How would YOU like to go around knowing there was a piece of YOU missing somewhere inside, too?
This ‘piece’ we’re missing is from between the ages of 12-13; or 10-14 – somewhere in there. I’m thinking (examining our memories – who / what is missing??? And there it is …. the period when we went to Germany; overseas somewhere … arriving, then nothing … nothing there for year one; year two getting a little more or less fuzzy; then year three coming in stronger – and the the “thing” happens (when we lose our friend) – and bang; year “4” and “we’re” there – or at least most of the personalities we “recognize” inside as “people”.
But this one …. this is the trick:
It was during a “transition period” – this meaning a period of extreme adjustment to our ‘head’ while we tried to take in a new environment, a new place, a new way of living ….
To get a sense of this, you gotta understand . . . .
Here you got this kid. Mikie, lets call him. He’s been raised up in “the hood“. He’s a country kid and a rural kid; children raised in the South. He’s grown up barefoot and in shorts for “most” his years (and in some ways this is very ‘real’, since our Mikie wasn’t created until we were three or four or somewhere right in there – about three, I’m thinking, during ‘the’ transition period in that time.) He’s grown up knowing his neighbors and friends, living on a dirt road, breathing in the dust and fresh air; playing through the pines, digging dirt forts; shooting each other with dirt clods . . . enormous fights and wars – great fun for a little boy (and some that was not so fun). . . .
and then here we go – in a space of 30 days! Here comes the warning (“your dad’s got orders”.) – then BANG – in the course of one day you are flown a few thousands of miles, dropped in a hotel somewhere, and find yourself . . .
in a foreign land where people speak much different than you, and you cannot read the signs; can’t even order anything to eat! – and NOW you are living in some apartment complex – a military one at that – on some high security base – surrounded by Army and all it’s equipment (and secrets as well: oh, hell – the secrets that were going on! I saw stuff I KNOW was against the treaties back then . . . and then there was the darker side of what was going on; going on with us kids . . . things involving . . . well, I’m really not supposed to say. Lets just say some of it had to do with war. Heck, a lot of it did.)
And so you have this little naive kid (who!, BTW, had JUST gotten out of trouble with his abuser friend – the one who had been molesting him – and was having some BAD anger issues over some stuff …. he’d grown “too old” for the abuse . . . and had started seeking younger kids …. for the abuser to be using. Good thing we got outta there, didn’t it? (I’m asking my ‘kids’ inside and they are all solumnly nodding. We were definitely heading down the wrong road way back then, you know …. even as a small child (now feeling some sadness; knowing I was abused . . . and as such it ‘contaminated’ me …. but we are loving and forgiving towards our inner child and are loving him very much for this thing…)
Anyway: there you go. This country kid arrives “on-base” in a foreign land – and the adjustments!!! Suddenly living with his father again (there’s one.) The ‘abuse’ suddenly slackening off (lack of a sexual friend …. something we TRIED – and did sometimes find ‘over there’ – but not for long. Either they or we were always getting ‘shipped off’ somewhere . . . . always somewhere different, always someone going . . . always losing your friends ….)
We basically allowed one kid to rape us again and again over there . . . just for fun. Just from loneliness.
Sometimes it was bone cold lonely over there. Chillingly lonely. And we were the only kid “like us” . . . none of the others seemed to know what was going on . . . THEY were so naive when it came to so many things – and so were we. A basic fool in many senses of the word – while at the same time being ‘geniuses’ in other areas . . .
It was a hard row to hoe; meaning it was a hard transition – and we’re ‘missing’ the ‘person’ or ‘persons’ from ‘then’ to some extant. There are those missing YEARS for Christ’s sake. Just the dimmest of dim, fuzziest of fuzz memories – year ONE???!!! Keep wracking my brain – “we” can remember waking UP over there – the first few DAYS . . . and then fading into fog … flicker flicker flicker – we traveled a LOT back then …. then settling down (year 3) … then 4. Four was a wonderful period and a bad one. Started off good – and ended up killing us inside . . .
And then Matt was ‘born’ – transition period maybe 6 months? A year?
Then M3 at about 21 – sharing second hand custody with the Matthew being until about 23, 24 … somewhere in there (Matthew’s Journals – the “Lost Journals” that we should be transposing online here to his journal (see menu above) – cover THAT period …. then M3 definitely has pretty much ‘upper hand’ . . . shared custody since then. Mikie takes a wayside seat most of the time – and we HATED him HARD for many many years (see our earlier blog entries – it wasn’t so long ago that this has all changed – while we were in Puerto Rico this July, as a matter of fact, WE changed!) – then again there is the “toddler” being (done at 3), and the “baby being” (very unimportant to us on most levels – very few memories left from then, but from parental reports and deduction, we can deduce the abuse began at a very early age indeed; probably at birth by some German nurses there . . .)
But there’s definitely a someone missing . . . and while I got time, I know it’s gonna take awhile to ‘dig’ this someone up – this ‘missing part’ of our lineage . . . he’s resistive and stubborn, and a lot like me ‘and me’ – and about a half dozen of my other selves – and therefore gonna be tightlipped (“as a clam!”) and hard to open up . . .
But we are patient and we have learned . . . the first step is in the knowing . . . the asking of the question . . .
For asking the question is the beginning of finding the answer . . .
and we’re on the trail . . .
(and yah, Michael, if you’re somewhere out there: this is where we might could use a good therapist, LOL’ing!!! If only we could find one!)
Jeff & Crew
a Missing One!