“Do not leave child unattended” is a sign that should be on the inside of my eyelids.
I was surprised to find that I too was unattended.
I was one of the ones she left when she went on a weekend getaway, I was one of them, and I responded in a way I felt was needed, perhaps not what I wanted to do, but what was called for.
The resentment I felt covered up my unattended feelings; the abandonment was hidden behind the duties of being responsible.
I wonder if the reason I kept being so responsible, is I didn’t want to feel the loneliness, the feelings of being left alone, the absence of being cared for?
As long as I focused on the resentment of being responsible, it shielded me from sitting down in the middle of forlornness of knowing I was carelessly handled.
This camouflage feeling became the standard I lived by and was defined by and NOT labeled as unattended.
In fact, I am sure I tried to present to the world that we were all put together and fine.
When I take a quick jaunt backward, to the age I was, I see a slideshow of neglect.
Some of the boys took this adult-free zone as a weekend of no rules, ‘let the party begin’!
It seemed it was my poor choice to pick up the responsibility instead of play.
I played adult.
And I took on the responsibility with it.
What I can only guess is that it was easier to play adult that it was to be the neglected child.
I M Perfect lady 