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For all of us the revelation of family secrets and lies made the world seem less solid.It was as though the very ground we walked upon could become thin ice at any moment. We would fall through, screaming and crying until we hit rock bottom, forced to confrontanother ugly truth about ourselves or our lives. Even with a warm, secure and loveing family, young poeple my age struggle to find the answer to the haunting questions "Who am I? Who am I supposed to be?"
After its all over, the early childhood, a chain of birthdays woven with candlelight, piles of presents, voices of relatives singing and praising your promise and future, after the years of schooling, fitting yourself into different sized desks, memorizing, reciting, reporting, and performing for jury after jury of teachers, counselors, and administrators, you still feel inadaquate, alone, vulnerable and naked in a world that can be be unforgiving and terribly demanding.
Sometimes, you cling to your family like some shipwrecked passenger clutching a lifesaver, but when you look into their eyes, you see their impatience and thier expectation. You hear what they're thinking: you should be swimming on your own by now. You'll only drag all of us down if you dont.
If you're lucky, really lucky, you find someone to love who will in turn love you and the loneliness and fear is greatly reduced. Often it seems from what we've all experienced, you can make the wrong choice and just when you thought it was safe to let go of the lifesaver, your tossing and turning and on the verge of drowning agian.
But what if you've never really had a loving family? What if all your birthdays were treated as minor inconveniences and all your presents were grudgingly shoved your way? What if all your candles were snuffed too quickly and whenever you reached for that lifesaver, you were tossed a deflated tube and left to struggle on your own?
And what if after you had come through the darkness and finally looked for the light and for hope and promise, you only found a prism of lies twisting and turning, making you dizzy and sending you spinning in a whrilpool of memories you knew were all illusions? Into what stream, what pool would you dip your hands to wash your face in smiles? Where would you go to hear the melody of laughter? What place in yourself would you reach into to draw out some happy moment to share even if you did find someone with whom you could share?
How would you know the difference between yourself and your shadow? Would anyone blame you for stopping and asking everyone, every passerby, every acquaintance, every stranger the same question? Do you know who I am? Do you know where I can go to find out?
--V.C. Andrews
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striped_pink's journal
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