Sometimes I feel like I'm reflecting on the past when I'm really ruminating on it. The moments that I think I fucked up, or when I made a fool of myself in front of others, and most of all when I hurt or disappoint someone else. It's like they're on a low simmer in the back of my mind, and a little bubble of heat pops and suddenly the smell of regret soup wafts into my nostrils. Filling my mind with the memories of how horrible I felt, and suddenly I'm stuck in this kitchen nightmare. That pun into a Gordon Ramsay show wasn't intended.
Back when I was a kid and shit went down, the only tool I had was to escape. Whether I was being punished, or others were screaming around me, I'd drift away into a fantasy world where the super hero toys I loved could solve the situations I'm seeing unfold in real life. Funny enough the one I remember most was Mister Sinister, I just liked his stringy cape and glowing red crystal. He was the hero I used to fly into a city and beat up villains and take away a scared little boy to safety. With power like that, things could be alright. I got so good at using my imagination as a child, that I would create fantasies in my head when I became an adolescent.
Fantasies where I was the smartest, the strongest, best looking, and saddest of all, I had a family that was proud of me. Like the ones I saw on TV where they all shared a laugh together, and a lesson was learned every episode because a problem was solved through understanding and love. These fantasies can't really help when reality begins to unfold and the expectations of being a kid are thrown out the window. Soon my summers were for laboring, my after-school time was for studying, and if I was done with that, I needed to be a first chair violinist or else my mom's money was going to waste. None of this to say I didn't have a childhood. The harsher moments have other memories intertwined: riding bikes with my friends to Slockett Park, having sleepovers and seeing who could score the highest in Crazy Taxi, and even some friends accompanied me to work at the deli or the warehouse.
Getting back on topic, my old tools just aren't serving me anymore. I've spent enough time running, blaming others, and just being impulsive or petulant about my life. Letting go of those coping mechanisms has been difficult - and there are still some I cling on to. Some days I just want to veg out or sit there and game with friends in Discord. But there's a karmic debt I'm racking up while concerns, tasks, goals, and dreams go unanswered. I don't know if I'm late to start paying it off, but it seems like that's the other lesson to learn. This shit doesn't have a timeline, and comparison is just another tool that I was using, the yard stick that was held out in front of me, making me think I'm so behind others when it's just me by myself on the field.