Sometimes I find myself seriously afraid that Celeste will end up like me. Well, no. That doesn’t sound right. I’m a good, honest, loyal person with a pure heart, and devotion that runs deep. I have a quick mind and a generally friendly personality. There are certainly things a lot worse to end up like than me.
But I also know how my brain can get. I know what that tunnel vision looks like when it sets in. I know how isolated I can feel when I am betrayed or facing a situation without companionship. I know how difficult it can be for a mind like mine to allow new friendships. And I know what the weight of guilt feels like when a situation is seen from all angles.
Sometimes, when Celeste is deep in thought, working through a spacial problem with her hands, or focused in deeply on a particular topic or object, I can see myself so clearly in her eyes. I watch her interact with other kids, even after 3 months of daycare, and wonder if she will have the same social interaction issues I’ve always faced. I relate to the look on her face when she is unable to do something that she feels she should be able to do. I feel her frustration when something isn’t as her expectations lead her to believe it is.
I’m sure there are others faced with similar afflictions, though I don’t believe I’ve ever met one. And I’m certain there are some minds even worse than mine to live in. And, even more, I’m certain that every mind has it’s good days and bad days. But still, I hope for better for her than I had in every way possible.
Don’t get me wrong, I really do enjoy being me. At least most of the time. And if I had to give up any of my good qualities to get rid of any of the bad ones then it probably wouldn’t be worth it. But, at the same time, I can’t imagine my little girl suffering the same difficulties that living in this brain has presented me with.
I know there are ways to temper the bad sides of my personality. Over the years of being me I’m slowly starting to figure some of them out. I just hope I’ll be able to teach them to her when the time comes.
I see her now and, from time to time, I scare myself wondering if she’s happy or not. Sometimes I’ll tickle her or make a silly face just to get a smile and know everything is still okay. Even though I know that a smile doesn’t always mean it’s okay. At least not in my head.