That moment when I started...

hating myself.

I realize that sounds harsh, but it's the truth.  And it's time I started dealing with it.  It has been building up for over 30 years now and if I don't face my feelings, I will not survive.

March 23, 1987.  It was a Monday and I woke up, as usual, ready for another day in 6th grade.  When I walked down the hall into our den, Mom told us the news.  Aunt Sara, our great aunt, had passed away early that morning.  I was devastated.  I cried and cried and did not want to go to school that day.  I did tho, because I had no other choice.

The reason that I was so upset is because of the night before.  Mom picked me up from Sunday night youth handbell practice.  We drove to Union Memorial Hospital after.  As we pulled into the parking lot, Mom asked me if I wanted to come up and see Aunt Sara.  I told her no, that I'd wait in the car and I would see Aunt Sara the next day.  Obviously, that never happened.

Thus began my road to self hatred.  I have never forgiven myself for not going into the hospital that night.  I don't know why I didn't go...probably something selfish as just being lazy.  Never the less, I was over come with guilt when Mom told me she died.  I have never been able to forgive myself for that.  I know that I was only 12 years old, but still...I could have been a better person.  And this one event set my life on a course, that I didn't know then, that would include many regretful experiences.

Of course, I don't blame Sara.  It was all me.  It became a situation that has snowballed over the past 30 years.  I will write more about the other experiences, I just needed to get this first one out on paper...saying it out loud for the first time really, so to speak.

If you need to go see someone, do it.  Don't let something else get in the way.

That is all.