ITSOZAZ
03-18-2010, 06:17 PM
(the devil has wings, too)
In the spirit of sharing that seems to make members of free thinkers, I offer you up an explanation as to why I seek attention…
I spent a good portion of my life surrounded by terrified and dying children. I was a healthy child that was brought up in the company of very sick ones. My sister has congenital heart failure and has been sick since she was born. Science is what keeps my sister alive to this day. She is the poster girl for the fight against nature. She is the most human person I know and so by default, the most brave. She’s literally experienced death (more than once) and so totally knows what it means to be alive. She is the most modern human being I know.
I remember going to church when I was growing up and everybody turning to look at me when prayers were offered for my sister’s recovery from her latest heart surgery or emergency. It was an odd feeling to be pitied for the misfortune of somebody else and I’m sure it shaped the person I am today. It singled me out, a feeling (as you might imagine) that I didn’t mind, since I couldn’t help but live in the shadow of my family’s drama. My parents are amazing and they did the best they could, but there is no doubt they had to devote a lot of their time away from me and in the company of my sister. I have no bitterness about this, as it was natural for them to do and as I said- they did their best and as my parents that was the best.
My sister would have longs stints in the hospital every few years, all of her life. Things have slowed down a bit (eventually she’ll need a heart transplant to live), but when she was younger she was in and out of the hospital for numerous procedures, including two valve replacements. I spent a lot of time in those hospitals along with her and my parents, to offer support and take comfort in family. We all loved each other very much because we felt the pain that requires such an emotional drug so acutely. To this day my mother, sister and myself, say, “I love you” to each other at least once a day. It was the same with my dad until he died. I still look up and say it anyhow.
When she was in for the latest round of slicing and dicing, poking and prodding, a lot of babies screamed in pain and moaned for life all around us. A lot of children wandered the halls with faces old people carry around. Sick little boys would want me as a playmate and sick little girls would pretend I was their boyfriend…and then they would die. I was a child that counseled other children that were dying; assuring them they would be fine and sometimes being wrong. I’ve been coming to terms with this lately as it’s pretty fucked up stuff when you think about it, and I think about everything.
My sister and I have discussed this and she feels sorry for me, and my position in this painful production. I don’t accept her pity because fate has obviously been harder on her, but it is a weird position to be totally healthy and successful (I was really good in the schoolin’) and immersed in a world where everybody around you is fighting for his or her life. What makes it macabre is to have those people be children. It is also an odd headspace to be born into it. My parents were fighting for their choice- their child. My sister was fighting for her life. I was really just there to cheer them on.
As I mentioned- I was a great student when I was young, but by the time I was in grade ten or eleven, I was surrounded by so much death and illness in my life that it began to take a toll. I discovered that alcohol was an easy way to feel good and that’s exactly what I needed. I lived a very debauched and wild life. I was the life of the party. I partied like a rock star and ended ass-up in the reality of being a loser. With the help of my family I picked myself up again.
I still like getting attention and I usually try to make it positive, but sometimes you need to balance things and I don’t mind standing out for different reasons. I will take your attention and have you look at me. I’m a pro at getting whatever attention I want because that’s how I was raised. It’s how I was shaped during the most formative years of my life.
And so now you know where that comes from.
(or so I think)
In the spirit of sharing that seems to make members of free thinkers, I offer you up an explanation as to why I seek attention…
I spent a good portion of my life surrounded by terrified and dying children. I was a healthy child that was brought up in the company of very sick ones. My sister has congenital heart failure and has been sick since she was born. Science is what keeps my sister alive to this day. She is the poster girl for the fight against nature. She is the most human person I know and so by default, the most brave. She’s literally experienced death (more than once) and so totally knows what it means to be alive. She is the most modern human being I know.
I remember going to church when I was growing up and everybody turning to look at me when prayers were offered for my sister’s recovery from her latest heart surgery or emergency. It was an odd feeling to be pitied for the misfortune of somebody else and I’m sure it shaped the person I am today. It singled me out, a feeling (as you might imagine) that I didn’t mind, since I couldn’t help but live in the shadow of my family’s drama. My parents are amazing and they did the best they could, but there is no doubt they had to devote a lot of their time away from me and in the company of my sister. I have no bitterness about this, as it was natural for them to do and as I said- they did their best and as my parents that was the best.
My sister would have longs stints in the hospital every few years, all of her life. Things have slowed down a bit (eventually she’ll need a heart transplant to live), but when she was younger she was in and out of the hospital for numerous procedures, including two valve replacements. I spent a lot of time in those hospitals along with her and my parents, to offer support and take comfort in family. We all loved each other very much because we felt the pain that requires such an emotional drug so acutely. To this day my mother, sister and myself, say, “I love you” to each other at least once a day. It was the same with my dad until he died. I still look up and say it anyhow.
When she was in for the latest round of slicing and dicing, poking and prodding, a lot of babies screamed in pain and moaned for life all around us. A lot of children wandered the halls with faces old people carry around. Sick little boys would want me as a playmate and sick little girls would pretend I was their boyfriend…and then they would die. I was a child that counseled other children that were dying; assuring them they would be fine and sometimes being wrong. I’ve been coming to terms with this lately as it’s pretty fucked up stuff when you think about it, and I think about everything.
My sister and I have discussed this and she feels sorry for me, and my position in this painful production. I don’t accept her pity because fate has obviously been harder on her, but it is a weird position to be totally healthy and successful (I was really good in the schoolin’) and immersed in a world where everybody around you is fighting for his or her life. What makes it macabre is to have those people be children. It is also an odd headspace to be born into it. My parents were fighting for their choice- their child. My sister was fighting for her life. I was really just there to cheer them on.
As I mentioned- I was a great student when I was young, but by the time I was in grade ten or eleven, I was surrounded by so much death and illness in my life that it began to take a toll. I discovered that alcohol was an easy way to feel good and that’s exactly what I needed. I lived a very debauched and wild life. I was the life of the party. I partied like a rock star and ended ass-up in the reality of being a loser. With the help of my family I picked myself up again.
I still like getting attention and I usually try to make it positive, but sometimes you need to balance things and I don’t mind standing out for different reasons. I will take your attention and have you look at me. I’m a pro at getting whatever attention I want because that’s how I was raised. It’s how I was shaped during the most formative years of my life.
And so now you know where that comes from.
(or so I think)