When I was 17 and went away to uni, and this vague recollection that I had the idea that University would walk you through the steps in order to give you the skills that you needed to be a grown adult. I didn't know where to start when I got started, and I left still struggling with everything, my mental life my work ambitions (such as they were, I've never been ambitious). My romantic life?
I spun and was lost for a very long time and then my dad died when I was 24 and that spun me more, and I became more lost. Your Kevin is very relatable. I never had an addiction, unless escapism counts.
But I too, was absolutely lost in the notion that I had to do what was expected of me even if I had no freaking idea what that was. Makes it kind of hard to have confidence or self-esteem, you know? I am so glad your Kevin has a safe place to land, and maybe to rest and heal up, to grok kindness, and figure out what comes next for him.
I didn't get that until I was after 30 and left my first husband. In a way for me, that experience parallels your Kevin's experience. I hit the wall. My life was intolerable and I couldn't stay where I was anymore so I left. The blessing was when a new friend offered me a crash pad, and let me stay until I was sorted out.
There's this soul deep resonance to this story, for me. Where exhaustion, frustration, and soul weariness make it so you can't see clearly at all. Even his numbness to his own body's needs is familiar.
Now is better because I'm 55, and not having to scratch for survival, love, or meaning. But being 17, 21, 24, and struggling to make my life MINE. That was awful, thanks, inherited generational trauma!
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dancing_serpent
(no subject)
Date: 2025-03-26 02:03 am (UTC)I spun and was lost for a very long time and then my dad died when I was 24 and that spun me more, and I became more lost. Your Kevin is very relatable. I never had an addiction, unless escapism counts.
But I too, was absolutely lost in the notion that I had to do what was expected of me even if I had no freaking idea what that was. Makes it kind of hard to have confidence or self-esteem, you know? I am so glad your Kevin has a safe place to land, and maybe to rest and heal up, to grok kindness, and figure out what comes next for him.
I didn't get that until I was after 30 and left my first husband. In a way for me, that experience parallels your Kevin's experience. I hit the wall. My life was intolerable and I couldn't stay where I was anymore so I left. The blessing was when a new friend offered me a crash pad, and let me stay until I was sorted out.
There's this soul deep resonance to this story, for me. Where exhaustion, frustration, and soul weariness make it so you can't see clearly at all. Even his numbness to his own body's needs is familiar.
Now is better because I'm 55, and not having to scratch for survival, love, or meaning. But being 17, 21, 24, and struggling to make my life MINE. That was awful, thanks, inherited generational trauma!
Yeah. Thanks for writing about Terremagne.