little old lady (LOL): i'm old enough to be your grandmother
me: ... {no ma'am, you're too old to be my grandmother}
Thursday, September 02, 2010
Wednesday, September 01, 2010
In the beginning...
"All beginnings are difficult"
It's hard to know where to start, because it's hard to know what exactly is pertinent. Where can I begin the story so that it makes sense? Well, but I'll try to keep things concise.
I grew up in the church. Truly, it can be a wonderful way to grow up. Went to church school, starting in elementary. Went to Sabbath school and church services every Saturday, and saw the same people there as I did the other days of the week. My parents were fair and reasonable, but firm when it came to their own values (which didn't necessarily coincide with the official church line). It's a very structured and secure environment, and I did quite well. I excelled in school; I remember how upset I was in 3rd grade when I got a B in handwriting. I played by the rules (by and large, and when I didn't, I didn't get caught); I was never sent to the principle's office, or even so much as reprimanded more than once or twice. I had friends enough, and a younger sister who would help me build forts and Lego bases. Ok, so I had a bit of a temper (I once kicked in a windshield), and some prominent isolationist/introverted/antisocial tendencies (though not enough to be considered on the autism spectrum), but all in all, I'd say my parents could give themselves a Win.
To be fair to environmental considerations, I've grown up with a remarkably well-adjusted and well-behaved group of friends, and they're to be credited for keeping me out of all sorts of trouble. We all were good students, and altogether we managed only minor mischief. As a group, we were active, with music, sports, church activities, student governments, etc. When I say this, I'm thinking mainly of high school days, but the roots go even further back, to Kumon, and computer and swimming lessons, and piano class.
So, those are the sorts of things you could learn from report cards and interviews with my parents. Really, that would give you a pretty good picture. There's not much else that went on under the surface. Well, some self-doubt, self-loathing, self-hatred, though not for any particular reason. I wasn't mean to people around me, I didn't lie, cheat, or steal. (Ok, a few lies sometimes to save me some trouble, and I sometimes looked at my neighbor's test, but mainly out of curiosity, as I always trusted my own answers more). I was never bullied or abused. I was very naive and innocent to the things that tend to get people into trouble (substances, feelings, hormones, power, vanity, etc.) Ok, I had a few early crushes (Cheri Wild, Tiffany Lo, Jacque Copenhaver, Katrina Gonzaga), but I didn't know why I liked them or what I wanted to do with them. I'm getting off track though. What I'm trying to say is, I hate myself sometimes, for no particular reason, and this tendency goes as far back as I can remember.
Let's summarize: Enter one bright and talented young boy, well-bred and with similarly gifted friends. He had some struggles with self-worth, and possible depression vs dysthymia, though this was ego-syntonic, and caused no great distress.
I didn't give much thought to life and love and why in the early years. I believed in the church doctrines, more or less, but I didn't bother to get baptized. Still, I participated in my church; I was religious vice president of my class for a couple years, and was a Teen Minister in the church youth group. I talked at school chapel once or twice. I never enjoyed Bible study though. To me, it seemed like a waste of time, since I wasn't even reading it in the original languages. I mean, I figured scripture was pretty much true, but I never considered it to be infallible; how could it be? It's just a translation of someone else's words. In my mind, if I saw the big picture, I didn't have to worry about the details. Anyway, I saw the impact that God could have in the lives of others (even if I got sick of hearing the drug addict conversion stories, I wasn't one to argue with results), and even felt His presence myself. This would change, toward the end of high school, but that will be the next chapter.
A few last words, things that are important on a very foundational level:
There can be no comprehensive understanding of my psyche without talking about love. In the end, or maybe in the beginning, or probably both, I'm a romantic, an idealist, an INFP; despite all my cynicism and skepticism, I ultimately have hope. Hope for myself, hope for others; love for myself, love for others. This probably deserves its own posting, maybe a chapter, and maybe I'll acquiesce, but at the least keep it in mind as you read.
And this might be the most important, and the key to all that will follow. There are a few things I've never had any reason to doubt, but if I had to pick one, it would be the love of my family. In this I consider myself to be immeasurably blessed.
It's hard to know where to start, because it's hard to know what exactly is pertinent. Where can I begin the story so that it makes sense? Well, but I'll try to keep things concise.
I grew up in the church. Truly, it can be a wonderful way to grow up. Went to church school, starting in elementary. Went to Sabbath school and church services every Saturday, and saw the same people there as I did the other days of the week. My parents were fair and reasonable, but firm when it came to their own values (which didn't necessarily coincide with the official church line). It's a very structured and secure environment, and I did quite well. I excelled in school; I remember how upset I was in 3rd grade when I got a B in handwriting. I played by the rules (by and large, and when I didn't, I didn't get caught); I was never sent to the principle's office, or even so much as reprimanded more than once or twice. I had friends enough, and a younger sister who would help me build forts and Lego bases. Ok, so I had a bit of a temper (I once kicked in a windshield), and some prominent isolationist/introverted/antisocial tendencies (though not enough to be considered on the autism spectrum), but all in all, I'd say my parents could give themselves a Win.
To be fair to environmental considerations, I've grown up with a remarkably well-adjusted and well-behaved group of friends, and they're to be credited for keeping me out of all sorts of trouble. We all were good students, and altogether we managed only minor mischief. As a group, we were active, with music, sports, church activities, student governments, etc. When I say this, I'm thinking mainly of high school days, but the roots go even further back, to Kumon, and computer and swimming lessons, and piano class.
So, those are the sorts of things you could learn from report cards and interviews with my parents. Really, that would give you a pretty good picture. There's not much else that went on under the surface. Well, some self-doubt, self-loathing, self-hatred, though not for any particular reason. I wasn't mean to people around me, I didn't lie, cheat, or steal. (Ok, a few lies sometimes to save me some trouble, and I sometimes looked at my neighbor's test, but mainly out of curiosity, as I always trusted my own answers more). I was never bullied or abused. I was very naive and innocent to the things that tend to get people into trouble (substances, feelings, hormones, power, vanity, etc.) Ok, I had a few early crushes (Cheri Wild, Tiffany Lo, Jacque Copenhaver, Katrina Gonzaga), but I didn't know why I liked them or what I wanted to do with them. I'm getting off track though. What I'm trying to say is, I hate myself sometimes, for no particular reason, and this tendency goes as far back as I can remember.
Let's summarize: Enter one bright and talented young boy, well-bred and with similarly gifted friends. He had some struggles with self-worth, and possible depression vs dysthymia, though this was ego-syntonic, and caused no great distress.
I didn't give much thought to life and love and why in the early years. I believed in the church doctrines, more or less, but I didn't bother to get baptized. Still, I participated in my church; I was religious vice president of my class for a couple years, and was a Teen Minister in the church youth group. I talked at school chapel once or twice. I never enjoyed Bible study though. To me, it seemed like a waste of time, since I wasn't even reading it in the original languages. I mean, I figured scripture was pretty much true, but I never considered it to be infallible; how could it be? It's just a translation of someone else's words. In my mind, if I saw the big picture, I didn't have to worry about the details. Anyway, I saw the impact that God could have in the lives of others (even if I got sick of hearing the drug addict conversion stories, I wasn't one to argue with results), and even felt His presence myself. This would change, toward the end of high school, but that will be the next chapter.
A few last words, things that are important on a very foundational level:
There can be no comprehensive understanding of my psyche without talking about love. In the end, or maybe in the beginning, or probably both, I'm a romantic, an idealist, an INFP; despite all my cynicism and skepticism, I ultimately have hope. Hope for myself, hope for others; love for myself, love for others. This probably deserves its own posting, maybe a chapter, and maybe I'll acquiesce, but at the least keep it in mind as you read.
And this might be the most important, and the key to all that will follow. There are a few things I've never had any reason to doubt, but if I had to pick one, it would be the love of my family. In this I consider myself to be immeasurably blessed.
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