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I Didn’t Expect A Second Shot At Youth

 

I am now going through some weird things that I never expected.

Societies tend to put time periods upon people as pertaining when particular stages of life should be experienced.  Many of these societies also state that people should just cut their losses and move on if they missed a particular important time in their lives.

However, Science tells us something different, particularly from the discipline that conservatives choose not to believe in: psychology.

One of the greatest gifts Erik Erikson ever gave mankind was the understanding of social stages, otherwise known as the theory of psychosocial development (1959).

This theory puts one’s life into eight stages, starting at birth and ending at death. I will only mention six here.

The first five stages of a person’s life are supposed to be experienced by the age of eighteen years.

In stage one, all people learn to either trust or mistrust those around them.  This stage lasts from birth to one year of age.

Funny, but I don’t trust people to save my life.

Stage two is autonomy versus shame, with the result being will.  I have an iron will and very little shame.  I am determined to thrive at whatever cost to the society around me because society shunned me in childhood and never accepted the explanation for my peculiarities.  I was punished for that which was beyond my control.

Stage three is initiative versus guilt, and the problem here was attention deficit disorder.

Because I struggled with attention deficit disorder, I simply had no idea where to start or how.  This is also why I struggled with stage four, industry versus inferiority.  I never thought I was good enough when I was a kid because I was incredibly shy.

Stage five is ego identity versus role confusion, which takes place between 12 and 18.

I should have kept my eye on the stage instead of listening to the adults in my life who advised that I go for the regular 9 to 5 schedule, because that never worked out for me.  I wound up trying to be something I was never meant to be and put my writing career on hold in much the same way that I gave up on the stage-but it’s not like I’m bitter about it, or anything.

Stage six is where I am presently: the early stages of Intimacy versus Isolation.  This stage takes place between 18 and 40.

I am currently 47.

This is the phase of life in which you find a mate and set up a family.  Well, I won’t state anything about my ex-wife because I can’t think of one nice thing to type about her.  Our marriage was nowhere near normal because she wanted to live with a roommate and not live in an affordable apartment with her husband.

You see, she and her friend hung out in the morning when I walked through the door from my graveyard shift at 8:30 a.m. and she went to sleep not too long after her friend left for work.

She didn’t work-and we lived in Mission Viejo, California….a place I could not afford.

Give Sam Kinison my regards, will ya?  Because that’s how the marriage ended.  I had to race her to the courthouse when I ran out of money because her extravagance (which I could not afford) broke me.  The funny thing was that I had money before the marriage.

Prior to that, I was stuck working 12 to 15 hour days with someone with autism while all of my friends were able to go to Las Vegas for the weekend, back in the days when it was a place worth going to.

Hence, I have missed the glory days of Vegas.

I was simply too tired to get going by the time I got home and I would have been groggy all weekend because of my Friday hours.  I also would have had to leave early on Sunday so that I could get to work before 7:30 a.m. on Monday, so that would have only left me one day to hang out with friends on the Las Vegas strip.  While all of my contemporaries are now married with children, I have yet to experience the one-on-one with a mate on the beach at sunset.

I  have yet to experience the freedom which comes with taking my woman, putting her in the car, and driving 200 miles out-of-town just for the hell of it on a weekend-which is why I’m only attracted to women 25 years younger than myself-do the math, bastard.  I’m now 47.

This is where I am at this point in my life.  I’m finally getting to do some of the things I missed out on in my twenties.  Forget about this midlife crisis crap.  I didn’t have a youth to begin with.

I want to go out with her and leave for three days-for no reason.
I want to go to Europe-because she and I can.
While I’m done with partying, I want the weekend barbeques I was never able to host.

This is very similar behavior exhibited by the Greatest Generation after the Korean War ended because they lost their childhood to the Depression and they lost their youth to two wars.   They struggled between the responsibilities required of them in the realm of parenthood and the need to spontaneously get away, because they never had opportunities to experience the latter when they were young.

The Pill simply came fifteen years too late.

And while this may make me come across as immature to women my own age, I’m not interested in their opinion and I’m even less interested in sloppy seconds because the vows say ‘for richer or for poorer’ and they didn’t want me when I was broke.  Hence, as Ozzy Osbourne said at the end of Decline of Western Civilization, Part II: The Metal Years: “Be careful how you treat people on the way up, because you meet them on the way down, as well.”

I was a very nice guy in my teens and early twenties-and I was stabbed in the back for it.

Yes, I voted for Hillary Clinton, but that doesn’t mean I’m not resentful for the double standard.  If the genders are truly equal, women should not discriminate against men who struggle and don’t make as much as they do.

This is why I find it so hilarious that white women were the only women who were stupid enough to vote for a rapist in the last election, so now that Roe v. Wade is in trouble, I’m not crying for them.

Be nice to us when both of us are young and we’ll have your back when we’re both old, but treat us like wallets when we’re young, and we’ll treat you like a handwipe at men’s room at the bus station in your forties.

Some of us still have spines-although mine is pinched by C5, C6, and C7.

What’s happening to me is that I am beginning to experience things I should have experienced 25 years ago.

Of course I’m bitter and of course I will never forgive this hypocritical nation for what it did to people like me.  However, with Wigboy in office, I can and will make one hell of a profit when this Titanic goes down in the Sea of History, thanks to the braindead zombies who follow Donald Trump as if he were the wigged Jesus Christ.   I also intend to live the rest of my life well off and secure-regardless of what happens to everyone else around me.

When people are left to fend for themselves, such people won’t care about the rest of the group when the boat is sinking.  They will grab the first mini boat, jump into the sea, film the submersion of the ship with everyone else on board, and capitalize off of the tragedy.

While that’s not exactly moral, it is karma.  Then again, as conservatives will always say: life isn’t fair.  That being stated, there’s no reason for someone like myself to feel any obligation to save a society which has tried to kill me from the moment I was born on June 15, 1970.

I will live out Erikson’s stages.  While I won’t be able to live them out in the proper order due to the opportunities of which I was deprived as a result of prejudice in my younger years, I will live them out.  I will be happy-even if the rest of society lives in fear and misery.

As I was told by conservatives long ago, so will I return the same.  “Your problems aren’t mine.  You’re on your own.”

I didn’t expect a second shot at youth.  However, having graduated with my bachelor’s degree and experiencing some of the professional and social successes I should have achieved much earlier, you’re damn right I’m going to take advantage of every moment I am able to steal back-and I ask for no one’s permission, either.

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