Day 2 part 2. Journaling???

I thought as the evening winds down I would spend a little time relieving myself of some of the things I have carried for far too long. It may or may not be enjoyable reading but as I said before this is for me. I just happen to be willing to share. So if you don't like it then go away.
I'm going to start from some early memories. Most of which are bad. Why? I'm not bitching, whining or complaining. I am releasing. I'm going to re-live these moments (hopefully for the last time) & analyze them as an adult rather than experiencing them as a child. Make sense? Let's get started.
I'm going to start @ age 9 & my Grandfather. I was an athlete as a child. A good one if I do say so myself. And as a kid I had dreams of becoming a pro football player. My grandpa played college ball & apparently was being scouted for the pros. This was when they had no facemasks. A different time. A different world. But his father forced him to give up his dreams & instead become a dentist. Anyway, while on a vacation to my grandparents home I expressed my childhood desire & was promptly informed that I wouldn't ever be a pro ball player. I would never be good enough. I would never amount to much of anything because of who my father was. He came from the wrong side of the tracks in my G-pa's opinion & wasnt good enough for him or his daughter. Because I was his seed I was destined to be a loser too. Now I am paraphrasing but only slightly.
 I forgot to mention that I am the only male on that side of the family. I was always treated as the black sheep. Even before I was old enough to know what that was or to have done anything to deserve that monicker. Later as a rebellious teen I welcomed the label. By 13 or 14 I hated that man & did so til the day he died. Good riddance. What an awful feeling for me to have.
 I'm long past the guilt of having that feeling as a child but it scarred me. But let's take another look. What kind of man dashes a child's hopes & dreams while simultaneously verbally shredding his father in the same sentence? I'll never know his motivation nor do I care anymore really. What I know is I did nothing to deserve it. And what a shell of a man to direct his anger toward a defenseless, impressionable child. Not really a man at all. Just a bitter immature act from a drunk that always portrayed himself as having something or being someone. And he did so at the peril of his wife & own security. He lost everyhting trying to keep up appearances. So much so that several years later, hat in hand, asked my mother who in turn asked my father for a place to live for he & my grandmother.
My father welcomed him into our home. Why? because my "loser" of a father had a heart. Loved his wife & would do anything to see her happy. Well, kinda. Another story in there for sure.
To finish off Grandpa let's finish the top stories. Holidays with multiple generations of alcoholics is always a good time. If you're not related to them that is. If you happen to be then it's hell with bows & lights. And alcohol. Lots of alcohol. The stories of Xmas & Thanxgiving with them span every year but I have blocked out or forgotten alot. But I do remember the last one. After moving to GA  my g-parents came down for Xmas. G=pa got drunk & didn't like something. Anything could have triggered him. This time escapes me as to exactly why but it's not important. So after getting drunk & angry he decided to leave...in the car. G-ma tried to stop him by keeping the keys but he physically seperated her from them & in the process struck both my mother & my sister as well as his own wife. Tough guy.
As he walked out the door I yelled to him "I hope you know you've made everyone very happy. Merry Christmas!" Just the fuel he needed to attack me. Well bring it on fat man. Finally my chance. 14-15 yrs old. Not yet a man but close enough to take on an old fat guy thats hammered. As he strode across the room to get to his insubordinate grandson I smiled. Cocky teenager. And he was about to get the ass kicking of his life. He swung once. I blocked it. He swung again. Same hand. Big mistake. As I dodged the second feeble attempt I was already raring back to release all the hate & pain & frustration I had in me toward him. And then it happened. My soon to be brother-in law grabbed me from behind. hooking my clenched fist in his own arm & preventing me from hitting the old guy.
 To this day I am conflicted. On some days I would give anything to be able to release my pent up aggression toward this asshole & just clock that miserable fucker one good time. On other days I thank my brother in law for stopping me. See, what isnt painted in this picture yet is he was standing with his back to a staircase. Had I connected with all the fury that was in me I would've knocked him thru the cheap railing to a fall of 10-15 ft. straight down. Maybe killed him. Which would be worse? to have to live with my anger & bitterness or the guilt of killing G-pa on Xmas. Neither is good but one would've been worse than the other.
As it was he left. Only to get lost in a strange town with no way of contacting anyone. After several hours he found his way & returned a shell. Broken, crying, feeble from the experience. Did I rub it in? You bet your ass I did. 15 yr old punk kid full of rage at his target. You're damn right I did. Karma is a bitch you cantankerous, miserable fuck. Gotta love that holiday spirit. When quality time is spent with those you love & memories are made that last a lifetime. Each year around the holidays I think of my G-parents. None of those rememberances are ever pleasant. We'll save Grandma for another time but she ain't no prize herself. She still walks the earth. 92 yrs old. I havent seen or spoken to her in years. Don't care to ever see her again. She knows why even if she has a hard time admitting it to herself.
But I promised myself to release & not retain so let's try this on instead. I forgive you Grandpa. For you know not what you have done. The pattern dies with you. I refuse to perpetuate the dysfunction anymore. The things in your youth formed the man you became as they did with me. Did you deserve them? Probably no more than I did. But I will not let them, or you, dictate any longer. Goodbye to you.