Chapter One: Childhood Innoncence

Here is the first chapter of my autobiography that I've decided to write:

How many of us can honestly say that we remember our childhood? Not one of us can, that’s how many. If you want to look at it from a psychological point of view, we weren’t cognitively able to form memories until around the age of 3 I would say. I remember things from my childhood, but most of them are in my mind as an onlooker looking at me while these events occurred. I don’t remember them from my own memory; I remember them from a changed standpoint; like a fleeting story caught on the wind that you have to stretch to remember.
I was born in Longmont, Colorado to Waunita Palmer and Augustine Gamble. I did not know that Auggie was my father until about my junior year of high school, which I will get to later. I don’t know much about my childhood at this time from about the age of birth to 2 years. All I have of what I looked like when I was a child was a picture that my mom had taken in one of those Wal-Mart photo shops that look cheesy and tacky because that’s just what they are: cheesy and tacky. I was a happy looking child. I had a cute chubby face with big bright brown eyes and a pudgy little body and legs with non-existent ankles. I would wear those water shoes like they were the coolest thing in the world (or so my mother told me). She still has those, to this day, in her office and she brings them out every now and then to show how much my feet had grown.
All I know from this time period was that my mother lived with her mother, Phyllis Palmer, in a nice pink (and yes, I do mean tickle-me-pink pink) house on Lincoln St. in Longmont. I loved that house. I remember that my mother and I lived in the basement of that house. I vaguely remember my bedroom being right next to my mother’s. I had a blue racecar bed overflowing with stuffed animals ranging from bears to cartoon characters. I had two in particular that were my favorite: Ducky and Sonic the Hedgehog. Those two stuffed animals were my favorite things on the planet and I dubbed them best friends. Ducky was a little gray duck that had a purple shirt and a matching ball cap. Sonic looked just like the cartoon character but he always had mangled hands because I would chew on him endlessly.
This house was beautiful, if I remember correctly, and I dearly wish that we still lived there. This house had a great big tree out front on the lawn which was always really gorgeous. I used to drive by that house every once in a while when I would visit friends and see how much more beautiful it has gotten. Some days I want to knock on the door and say “I used to live here, would it be okay if you let me in to look around?” but I know that would be terribly inappropriate. But I digress; this house was magnificent. I remember that it was a split level house, one of those where you walk in and you either have to go upstairs or downstairs. Upstairs and to the left consisted of a living room, I think, which had two brown couches with blue flowers on them and an old T.V. set in the corner of the room. If you go straight from the landing of the stairs you would find yourself in the kitchen. All I remember of the kitchen was watching soap operas with my grandmother Phyllis while eating a plate of spaghetti. To the right of the landing were bedrooms I believe. My memory is a little fuzzy of what this house looked like. However, there are two very distinct memories that stick out in my mind of this house. The first pertains to the balcony that overlooked the stairs leading down into the basement of the house. See, we had this cat. I was obsessed with the movie Free Willy when I was a kid, and even to this day. I would watch at least five or six times a day, and that’s not an exaggeration. But again, and probably not for the last time, I digress. We had this gray male tabby cat that was my only friend for a while named Jesse, after the main character of Free Willy, that I adored. That cat was my best friend when I was a kid. The one memory I have of him to this day is how I would torture the hell out of him. I guess I never realized that dropping a cat off of that balcony down into the basement probably hurt it…but that cat still loved me, I think. I certainly loved him, and I never realized that it might be hurting him to drop him down those stairs, but that is one of the memories that stick out most vividly to me. The other memory involves those same stairs, but I feel like this might be lasting karma for the torture that I made my cat endure. When I was two, I made a big mistake. Now, when I remember this in my head, I don’t remember it as it happened to me. I remember it as someone standing over the landing of the stairs and looking down on me. But anyways, when I was two, I decided I would be a stuntman and ride my tricycle down a flight of split level home stairs. That was not the smartest decision I made. Needless to say, it ended in a bloody mess of my face meeting the door, and me losing the only tooth that had grown in at that point. My aunt, who was my primary babysitter at that point, mostly because she would work for free and because she was there all time, called my mother at work and I was promptly rushed to the hospital. I don’t remember much of that, but what I do have is a lasting scar from that experience: my crooked teeth.
This house was the first thing that I remember as a kid. I remember living there with my mother, aunt, and Granny, but I don’t know if anyone else lived there at the time. I do know, from stories that my mother told me, that Granny was my best friend. I was with her all the time that I could be. I never ever left her side. We would watch soap operas together, and I would talk in gibberish the entire time while she watched her soaps. I remember her face, but only because we have a picture of her that my mother keeps in her bedroom now. She was a beautiful woman, and she looks so much like my aunt Cassie that it’s uncanny. However, my Granny suffered from colon cancer. I don’t know when she was diagnosed with it, but I do know that she had it. I never knew, or if I did know I didn’t understand it. I never left her side though. My mom told me that I was always with her, every second of the day. I remember that we moved out of that pink house and into a brown mobile home in the same town. My Granny was dying, but at that age, I didn’t understand that. I don’t know why we moved out of the pink house into this dingy mobile home, but I trust there was a good reason. I only have a few memories of what happened in that household. I remember walking in on my aunt Cassie and her boyfriend at the time: Chris having sex. I didn’t understand what it was at the time, but I do remember being set down on the counter of the kitchen of the house and being apologized to by a shirtless Chris.
Granny wasn’t healthy. I think that my mom and aunt knew that her time was short, and that she was going to die soon. Now that I look back, I wish that I had been older so I could at least remember her voice. She was like a second mother to me, and I really do miss her. I hope that she is proud in Heaven, and that she is looking down on me with a smile. I’ve always thought I’ve had a guardian angel. I know that everyone says that they have one, but I’ve seen some crazy shit in my life that most people haven’t, and I think it was her holding me close. I think it was her holding me and making sure I was safe. I only remember a few things about her death, and they again were stories that my mom told me. My mom told me that Granny had to wear this contraption on her that would regulate her bowel movements. I still don’t know what it was that it was supposed to do, but essentially it was a bag that was slung around her waist to collect…well…fecal matter. My mom said that when I was a kid, I would walk around with a plastic King Soopers bag around my waist so I could be “like Granny!” Looking back on it now, I know that I had good intentions with the bag, but I wonder if it pained my Granny to look at me emulating her terminal illness. I don’t think she did. My Granny was a very caring and wonderful individual from what I remember. I haven’t thought about her in years until I started writing this, and I feel bad about that, but I can’t remember her very well. I do miss her though, and I look forward to the day when I can look at her beautiful face and the beautiful face of my God when I go to Heaven. I miss you Granny, but I know that you are looking at me now as I write this, and I hope I’ve made you proud. I know that I have made some mistakes in my life and I know that I have some pretty big regrets, but I think that I’m headed in the right direction. I just want to make you and Mom happy. I love you, and I can’t wait until the day when I get to meet you all over again.

There is no rest for the wicked.

My life, once again, seems to be just more and more complicated every single day.

I have been having an inner war lately. I know that I notioned to it in my last post, but it is definitely worth mentioning again.

Everyone's life if is a constant struggle to find out who they are. I am no exception. Ever since I went to Navs, and even before that, I have been wondering who I am? What do I have to bring to the table? Do people like me? I know that you're taught from a young age to not care what people think, but in reality, that isn't the case. No, you shouldn't care about those who hold no sway over your mind or your heart (and I certainly don't). But, those who do have say in your life or those you WANT to have a say in your life, are the ones that you should care about their opinions.

There are many people I want to keep in my life for various reasons. Be it something as simple as we've talked a couple of times, or something as big as you make me smile on a daily basis. Where the real struggle comes in, and where I have the most problems, is making someone see that. Why is it so hard to make friends with someone? Why must people be so callous or uncaring to those who want them to be their friends? Is it so wrong to seek comfort in someone we've just met? Is it so wrong to want to be included in people's thoughts?

I just don't understand why people don't care. I don't understand why people can see you struggling but don't do anything about it.

All I can do is pray. Maybe someday I can be the confident, caring, and personable man I know that I am and can be. I won't believe Satan any longer. I won't let myself believe that I am not coveted, and that I am not an attractive personality.

My only hope is that if I can become an RA in North Hall, or anywhere else for that matter, I will be welcomed warmly, and that I can fill the shoes of the guy or gal whom's place I am taking.

God, I just pray that you slowly but surely reveal to me who I am, and who I am going to be. I pray that you keep me steady and that you give me strength, guidance, and wisdom. I pray that you keep Satan at bay, and that you fill me with your wisdom and grace and allow me to battle this demon inside me. I don't want to feel unwanted anymore. There truly is no rest for the wicked.

I struggle to see any truth in your lies...

Hello again.

I'm wrestling today. I am kind of in emotional turmoil today. I have a lot on my mind, from this RA job to Satan. So, before I go to Nebraska for the weekend, I've decided to blog about what's going on.

Last night I went to a meeting for a group called Navigators, which is pretty much an on-campus ministry. It has opened up my eyes to the evil of Satan, that's for sure. He is a liar. He tells you things that aren't true and makes you believe him. But, I know in my heart and my soul that I am saved. I am protected. Now I just need to believe that.

This RA thing has been stressing me out. I don't know how my interview went, and as much as I want to work in North, I feel like I won't be welcomed. I feel like I wouldn't be wanted...but that is just Satan lying to me. I guess I've just become so attached to it that it's making me scared to leave. I've grown accustomed to the people that are here. But I don't think that they've received me as warmly as I have them...and if I don't get the North job, I'm not really sure what I'm going to do. No, I know exactly what I'm going to do. I'm going to stick it out and do the best I possibly can. But who knows, there may be a possibility of me not even getting anything, so I guess all I can do is wait.

I have plenty of time to ponder all of this though, as I'm going to Nebraska for the weekend.

I know what my biggest problem is, and it's an agreement I made with myself long ago and I now apply it to every part of my life. The lie I've come to believe is that the people who's company I enjoy, and the people that I think about the most, are the people who don't care about me and that think I'm just this annoying, needy person. I've made myself believe that over the years. But, again, those are whispered lies from the one who is out to destroy me. I am going to try and make myself believe that I am an interesting person, and that people want to be around me. I just hope that I can apply that now...even as I type this I am having a hard time believing it.

I don't know what I'm going to do, but the answers will come to me. My life seems to be getting more complicated...

Why do we let this happen?

Here I go, thinkin' again =p.

I just want everyone to know that tonight I feel very college-esque. I'm sitting on the couch in my suite, blogging, while watching "The Silence of the Lambs". Yeah, be jealous.

Today I've been thinking about lots of things. Most of all though, I have been considereing responsibility and dependance. Yes, I realize those are two different subjects but I have been exposed to two things today that have made me thinnk of these things.

Let's look at responsibility first. Dictionary.com defines it as "a particular burden of obligation upon one who is responsible". With that said, wouldn't I be correct in saying that a baby, for example, is something that one would refer to as responsible? I sure think so. Ok, well I know someone who just had a baby, and I am very happy for that person. Babies are a wonderful blessing and joy to behold. The miracle of life is so incredible that it really can't be put into words. I am in awe every time I see a newborn. But that isn't the point of my ramblings. What I was getting at is having a baby when you are READY, or rather RESPONSIBLE enough to have one. The person I know who just had a baby is still very much an immature person. She is the kind of person that can't look any deeper than say her boyfriend at the time or the "issues" they might be having.

In a nutshell, this guy and her had sex and she got pregnant when she was 18. This could lead into so many segways on topics that I feel very strongly about, but I am going to try my darndest to stay on just the one topic of responsibility. Teenage pregnancy is really something that I detest, and I think it stems from the lack of responsibitly in young men and woman. A responsible person would know that sex and intimacy comes with a very hefty price (which is one of the reasons I am saving myself, not necesarily until marriage, but until I find a committed relationship that I know means something). It may seem that these two love each other because they have a child together, but GET THIS!!! He wasn't even AT the hospital at the time. It was the same day as his birthday and he decided that hanging out with friends rather than his "girlfriend" and their brand new daughter. How ridiculous is that?

It may not seem like this to you, but take it from someone who knows this girl, she wasn't ready. She is still very young in her mindset and that interferes with her capacity to be an adult. I guess my main conclusion for this one is that I don't agree with teen pregnancy whatsoever, and that I think it could all be avoided if people wouldn't act on primal instincts to procreate.

Now for something that I am all too familiar with: dependance.

When I think of dependance, I think of the need for something to be present on, not necesarily a day to day basis, but on a frequent basis. I've found that I've become dependant on those who have shown me an act of compassion, no matter how small it is. But, the level of dependance depends on the level of compassion.

However, what I want to explore, at least specifically, those people that you see that are so needing of a relationship, it's almost sad.
I know someone who was dating a friend of mine, and the relationship went sour very quick. It went sour because she wanted him every minute of every day, and if he was gone for longer than ten minutes (say, and I'm not joking, the time span it takes to go to the bathroom) she would assume he was talking to other girls and that he was going to be making arrangements to see another girl when he was "done" with her. It was almost sad to watch her already frail confidence be shattered.
I know that most issues people have with other people is due to a lack of confidence, but I feel like this is an extreme.
What I don't understand, and what I kind of want to explore as a train-of-thought kind of process, is how this girl can be so torn up over being broken up with my friend, but then be with a guy that she possibly has just met, and is already being labeled as a "great guy". I wish I could just understand why people look down on themselves and can't be comfortable.

A message from me to anyone who decides to read this. You are beautiful. You are unique. You can be anything you want to be. Please don't subject yourself to the tortue of being so reliant on other people that you lose sight of who you are. I learned that lesson both a long time ago, and not too long ago. I learned when I was in high school when I destroyed the walls of my insecurities around my heart. I also learned not long ago that you can't rely on anyone but yourself. I know that sounds bleak, but when it really comes down to it, who can you trust better than yourself? You always know what you want, you always know what you need, even if you aren't willing to accept it right away.

My main conclusions for this post is that, responsibility is very importtant and can lead to a more real, and cognitive life. I think that it is one of the biggest things in a successful life, and especially in appropriate decision making. Also, dependance is ok, but just like anything, it is only appropriate in moderation. I think that it's fine to rely on others and to want others to be in your life, for I feel that no one can develop without exposure to other people. But, when it comes to meaningful relationships, someone you are in such need of that they can't be themselves, and you can't either, that's when it becomes unhealthy.

That's all I have for now.
Be well,
~Ge-Off~