06/09/19 - 9:07 a.m.

I found a picture of me from when I was a teenager. It stirred up a bunch of memories -- which is bad, because I've got a lot of work to do today...

I try not to think about my teenage years, but there it was. I guess what I miss is the serenity of it all -- the calm before the storm. I love the life I've made now -- it's "intellectual"; my work involves thinking, lots of thinking. I've got a really smart girlfriend, and I'm getting good things in my life. But the truth is, I really hate even making this comparison. What was wrong with my teenage years was that what I wanted wasn't even recognized, let alone considered. I used to hide stuff from my parents, just because I hated the thought of actually saying it out loud and then have them having no idea whatsoever of what I was talking about. And then even worse, their pretending that they did. Pretending they were good parents, and expecting me to act like I believed it. What a strange hell.

So what was good about it was when I could distance myself from all that -- and then exist in this peaceful bubble. Not paying any rent. Not dealing with any grown-ups. Goin' to the movies. Once I went swimming in a river....

Sometimes I remember my 20s, and I see it as me probably wanting more from the people around me than I was really entitled to. But I'd say I was out there with the big hole that was left by my family. And sometimes I realize that the other members of my family -- thinking about certain siblings now -- probably had the same hole. And maybe that's why they got clingy with me and did things that made me unhappy or uncomfortable.

It was just a mess. And I got out of it. Good for me. And I made a good life.

So what am I supposed to do when I find a picture of me as a teenager?