As a kid, I used to love to read comic books. My siblings and I read and enjoyed them so very much. Superman, Batman, Archie and more. We could be any of the characters we chose to be at any time. I would lay in the bathtub with a stack full of comics nearby to entertain me. Every vacation my family took to North and South Carolina, Florida and Alabama, my mom always replenished our supply with fresh reading material. (Probably a way to keep us all quiet during our trips.) I read every new "adventure" with keen interest and enthusiasm. My favorite was Archie--I had a weird kinda crush on Archie...that do-good freckled faced red headed guy--the "star" of that publication. I also loved hamburgers--so naturally Jughead was a favorite of mine. I used to pretend I was Betty....I was a pretty average gal, a blond with long hair so I related more to her than Veronica, that vivacious dark haired beauty who was able with a wink of an eye to win Archie's attention. My sister, the better looking and more popular of the two of us, pretended she was Veronica. So we spent long hours role playing while reading those together. My brother, being the oldest, and not into our "kiddy comics" was more into "Classics Illustrated". (He turned out to be the most intelligent of the three of us--go figure.)

Years ago I felt the need to compete...that I was not "good enough", had to get other's approval of me before I felt worthy as a human being. Being the youngest of the three children in my family I never felt like I measured up. I spent so much time trying to prove myself to not just my parents....to my teachers...to peers....even to strangers who I knew little or nothing about. If I could gain the approval of just one person, than my work was done......at least for that day, or even for that moment.

I have realized over the years that sometimes things change, sometimes they don't. I would love to say that over the span of five plus decades, obvious change has happened. Unfortunately, that is not the case. I have found myself having many of the same fears, the same needs--much as I did when I was in my early years--as I do now--well into my 50's. I am certainly not proud of this, nor should I necessarily being ashamed of it. It is what it is. I would love to think that I have "evolved" in some way from that comic book reading little girl who was searching for some answers, some (possibly) hidden meaning to life and all its complexities. I was merely an innocent kid back then. Now it is not so easy admitting I am still in so many ways a "little kid" looking for answers....seeking approval...and trying to deal with who I am everyday.

As an alcoholic, I feel the same need to prove that I am "just as good", "worthy" as a non-alcoholic. I even have caught myself trying to prove that I am just as worthy as fellow alcoholics. (I admit--I'm sick). I cannot escape into that world of comic books anymore. I'm supposed to be a grown up now. (Emphasis on "supposed to be"). I am me--I am who I am and there is no comic book character I can blame/relate to as I used to do as a child. I can blame innocence on how I was then--I can only blame ignorance on how I am now. And I must say that although remembering the past and reflecting on it are not necessarily bad things, me still trying to be a pretend character is not a good thing. I am who I am. Acceptance of that fact--and that fact alone--and who I really am as a person NOW has been hard for me.

I don't know if all my gibberish will really help anyone. Just wanted to share this about me.

Poor Baby Queen

(and damn! Some of those comics from the late '50's and early '60's are valuable now. They are all gone, as is so much of the past.)

-- Edited by leavetherest on Sunday 9th of October 2016 12:48:06 PM