Grounded, at home on the earth

For most of my life, I've felt estranged from the world, like I didn't belong, as if I had a very tenuous hold on the earth, as if I had no right to take up space on the planet.  Even as a young child, I remember feeling that way - I had no right to exist.  I think I must have been an odd little kid - I hid in a corner of the attic that could only be accessed through a small opening - I had to duck even as a child and the little room it led to was freezing in the winter and sweltering in the summer - and I was afraid of  small spaces - but I still went there to read by flashlight or just to sit and think about things.   No one every found me there.  I have no idea what that space was for - there was nothing in it - I think it might just have been God's way of providing a hiding place for me.  It was so quiet there and so peaceful.  I used that space through high school. 

In my FOO, there was no personal identity - we were part of a group - basically,  my Nparents ran a very clean, very tidy, very abusive group home.   Although we all received toys at Christmas time, we weren't allowed to keep our toys in our rooms - or even to keep our toys separate from our siblings' toys- after Christmas Day, they were all put in a long wooden box (that carpet came in) in the basement, everyone's jumbled together - we didn't have personal possessions.  Nmother would come into our rooms and dump our dresser drawers in the middle of the floor if they weren't tidy enough - I'm talking underwear folded neatly, socks lined up, sweaters folded the regulation way.  Our letters were read, our diaries were read - there wasn't an iota of privacy in the whole house.  The only door that was allowed to be locked was the bathroom door - and since there was only one full bath with 9 children, the minute you went into the bathroom, someone was pounding on the door.  Thankfully, Nmother didn't want children messing up her house, so we played outside most of the day and, if you could escape the care of younger siblings, there was freedom and privacy to be had in the branches of trees, on the top of the smokehouse by the river, in vacant barns, on long bike rides, even at the cemetary.  But there's something immeasurably sad about not feeling at home at home.  It was housing, but not a home at all.  Between Nfather's narcissistic rages and irrational ramblings and Nmother's need to control all of the world in order to feel safe, with no energy left for her children, it was a decidedly bad group home.  WWW used to tell me that she had heard Nfather and Nmother talking and that I was adopted (a ridiculous  contention, since I look exactly like Nfather), and I used to daydream about the day my real parents would come and rescue me from these awful people who obviously didn't love me because I wasn't really their child.  It was a long wait...

But now I feel at home on the earth - I feel "grounded" and as if I belong here.  This is relatively new and I'm still amazed by it - I have a right to be here - I have the right to exist, to be who I really am, to explore the world and my life and my feelings.  I have the right (and obligation!) to protect myself and those I love - and I have the right to share my life with whomever I choose - and to not share my life with whomever I choose - Life is Good!!!