Last Sunday was the Presentation College Reunion - I didn't know about it until a friend sent me a message during the reunion itself. With a cancelled date, there was nothing but time on my hands - and seeing some people that I hadn't seen since 1988 seemed like a good idea. And it was.

One person remarked that I hadn't changed. That's not so true. In fact, it might be classified as a kind lie to cover the past. So I've been back and forth on this in my mind for some time, procrastinating about it and really thinking.

You see, in 1988, a very hungry and angry ghost was unleashed on the world. During the teenage years I didn't have a social life - what little I did have was overdone because there was so little of it. When others had lunch together at school, my father had me walk back home for lunch and back. When others stayed a bit after school, my father had me leave for home immediately and had me timed. Being late wasn't an option, or it was a painful option. Running the printery meant I might eat that week - and there were days that I didn't. If people didn't know why I was miserable, they certainly knew that I was miserable. Lashing out was just the steam releasing from the pressure cooker.

And there was this boy trying to be a young man who was foolishly trying to please everyone and failing miserably at just about every turn. There was no breathing space. My world was girded so tight that, in retrospect, what would happen next seemed predictable. Freedom came under the guise of going to college, without restraint, without anyone looking over my shoulder. No fear of reprisal. No true respect for authority. No limits.

There were motorcycles, there were fast cars, and there was a lot of loud music. There were also a lot of things any sane lawyer would tell me not to write about (so I won't). And somewhere in there, life happened. Even the U.S. Navy and Marine Corps didn't bother me too much with their attempts at discipline. The rebel without a cause just became more subversive, and along the way he found causes. Some were those he made up that grew on him.

So when I was told that I hadn't changed, it was a kind lie to cover a very confused and angry youth who gave everything to get away. To live without bounds, or within acceptable bounds. But at the start of it all, there was just a compressed, charged sphere of frustration that tested every side of the spherical prison¹ and finally found an avenue of escape. And that frustration powered a lot of good things and bad things in life. The good things I'll talk about. The bad things I don't. Few take the tour of the dark side of their souls. Some get the full tour with 3D glasses.

To compare that ball of energy to me now... I can't do it. Emptiness resides where turmoil once did... but I suppose that turmoil was necessary to get where I am today. Wherever the hell that is.

And that's probably the most difficult thing I've ever written.

¹Think about it.