Growing up Middle(ing)! Part 2 - Aliens live among us and I'm one of them!

One of our family photo outtakes. The photographer said, "Act natural." So, I did. That is one creepy smile!

Since a very early age – I have always felt that I was different than my siblings. Not to say that they didn’t feel the same about themselves (or just me?). As I muddled my way through the tribe of misfits – desperately trying to find my niche and mark my territory (not literally) – I came to this conclusion, “Aliens live among us and I’m one of them!” 

I was an energetic child (high-strung). My fears and anxieties started at an early age. I wasn’t too concerned because I was completely self-absorbed and had no barometer other than my family to compare to. I desperately wanted to be liked and listened to. I believe my fear of invisibility began at birth. So, I over-compensated by reading the room and ambushing anyone who would make eye contact.

Happy siblings - before there were 5 - I liked being youngest!

Uke, drums, piano - anything to entertain and distract me.

My mom liked music and singing, so I used her weakness and started performing to garner and consume all of her attention. I held on to that unique position throughout my 65 years. It was the one thing that set me apart from my siblings. I believe I tried to fulfill my mother’s dreams and aspirations by choosing acting, singing and performing. But that’s a whole other blog.

My sister and I shared a bedroom. She endured it and even played with me until she hit the next stage of life – while I remained stuck in obscurity. I remember a game we used to play in bed. Bridget would lie down with her legs slightly bent in the air. I would stand and bend forward, so my tummy was on the

When I was a baby - vomiting was cute!

soles of her feet. We’d grasp hands and she would straighten her legs and lift me up as if flying. Once my balance was secure – we would let go of our hands and I’d be levitated and trying not to fall. We’d laugh and laugh. Kind of like Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey in “Dirty Dancing” only we used feet rather than hands (and not remotely coordinated or sexy). This became one of our bonding and secret bedtime games that I treasured – until I didn’t. The last time my sister lifted me up on her feet – it gave rise to a different reaction, and I accidentally vomited on her face and probably into her mouth. I believe that was my first sisterly “Violation.” I couldn’t argue with her terminating our bedtime gymnastics and with this horrific breach of her trust!!

To appease Bridget - Mom left me under the Xmas tree as a replacement doll.

The second violation was breaking her favorite doll – of which I conveniently have no recollection. I’m sure I had secretly coveted that doll and was probably secretly playing with it a little too enthusiastically – and broke her doll and her heart. "Destruction" is my middle name! “I’m sorry” was my mantra!

The neighborhood terrors!

Because my sister was three years older and the oldest in rank – I hung out with my brothers quite a bit. Growing up in northern Maine – we spent an inordinate amount of time outside – even in winter. There were no fears in the 60’s like there is now and we were basically feral children with little to no supervision. Another example - none of us ever used a seatbelt. Somehow we survived. But this was normal back then. The biggest fear was breaking a bone – because we did some crazy shit! I thought I was a boy for a long time and that also involved fighting like a boy.  My brother, Jerry, was a year younger than me and we were the most alike – physically and mentally. He was fearless and got attention whether he liked it or not. I was anxious and begged for attention whether others liked it or not.

Also, he was the child that invariably found trouble whether by intention or just bad luck. We were close and had a passionate relationship. We would be best buds and inseparable until one of us said or did the unthinkable. I have no idea what the “unthinkable” was – but we would fight just as intensely as we would play. Our fights were explosively noteworthy!

My whole life is one big cartoon!

My sister remembers (and probably my other siblings) one bout to the death. She was in the living room, sitting on the couch reading. I came down from upstairs and Jerry came around the corner from the kitchen and we met in the middle of the living room (gunslinger mode) . No words were said. She recalls the brawl like this: Arms swinging, legs kicking, fists punching and teeth gnashing. The only sounds were grunts of pain and vengeance. We became a blur of ferocity. She said it reminded her of cartoon fights - a whirlwind of limbs amidst a cloud of outrage. We stopped as fast as we started. I walked on to the kitchen, and he walked upstairs – in total silence - as if nothing had happened. Bridget said it was mesmerizing and disturbing at the same time and grateful she wasn’t collateral damage!

Jerry and I were really close and yet so resentful. For me, it was because he got away with a lot of crap. But for Jerry, I think it was because he was in between the middle child and the youngest and had no defined role. That contributed to his animosity and possibly his ultimate motive to whittle our family down, thus eliminating the “Middle Child” first and allow time to take out either Michael or Scott to win one of the coveted spots. We may never know his intentions! I'm writing this so apparently he never succeeded.

I loved to dress up and often raided my mother’s closet. Pending my latest obsession – whether it be a cowboy, model or movie character – I’d cobble something together to fulfill my fantasy. My wee brain preferred fiction to reality.

My imagination conjured up a wide assortment of genres. Even though we had limited

Gunslingers or Boy Band?

TV and movie options – I was consumed with Westerns, Fantasy, Musicals, Monsters, Witches, etc. etc. When I saw “Sound of Music” – I was a nun singing on top of an Alp and flirting with danger and sexual tension. When I saw “Cat Ballou” – I was a femme fatale and outlaw, desired by all men and out for vengeance while flirting with danger and sexual tension. When I saw “Dark Shadows” – I was a different femme fatale who smelled like bloody honey while flirting with danger and sexual tension and also immortality. You catch my drift.

Just a normal day as a cigar-smoking hobo!

I had no idea what “flirting with danger and sexual tension” meant – but I wanted me some!! I believe middle children have extreme imaginations and live inside their own neurotic, frenzied and hungry universe of unfulfilled needs, yearnings, and ultimate heartache. We don’t understand how to control our unreasonable expectations. We learn disappointment at an early age!

My mother found this note (written to myself) taped on the inside of my underwear drawer! Just another daily disappointment.

I was never a good sleeper once I discerned we all had a biological clock – ticking down to our doom. I mentioned my early exhausted years in my book Menopause the Horror, Humility, and Humor of It All! – Chapter 4 Sleeplessness – 

“Latin Term—Sleepus Interruptus.

As I’ve already mentioned—I don’t sleep well. Since my childhood obsession with horror films and then hanging their movie posters on my bedroom wall thinking that was a good idea—to my adulthood anxiety over my every waking decision—sleep became my Sasquatch. Out of focus glimpses of a mythical “blissful night of sleep.” I’m too anxious and hyper a person to ever relax totally. Meditation helps—but apparently, drugs would help more.”

My mother has mentioned that I was a terrible napper as an toddler. It seemed silly to lay in bed while daylight blasted through the scanty curtains. A waste of precious time. It also didn’t help that I had a propensity for nightmares. Even before I started watching horror movies like Dracula and the Wolfman – I woke up often with night terrors. Initially I would crawl into my parent’s bed to calm my emotional distress – until they got tired (pissed off) at this nightly ritual and refused me entrance.

Naked Bed-Hopping Baby!

I remember they would carry me upstairs and put me into bed with another sibling so they could get some sleep. I trespassed on Bridget’s tiny bed quite often until she began disdainfully cold shouldering me. I tried my brother Michael – but he quickly built a barricade to isolate from all of us. My brothers Jerry and Scott (younger) were accommodating. Jerry slept like a log and never knew I’d crept into his bed. He was a rambunctious sleeper – so I spent all night avoiding his kicks and punches (very much like when he was awake). Scott silently allowed admission until every sibling finally said, “Sleep in your own bed you crazy neurotic child!” I spent many nights stiffly lying awake – imagination in overdrive. Our house made a lot of noise and the shadows flowing over the walls projected all my demons. The “Dreaded Closet” that was on the opposite wall from our headboards was alive! Like in any horror film – closet doors tend to open on their own volition to let your schizophrenia do all the slaying. That f**king door opened every night and whispered its evil intent to my hallucinatory middle child-mind. It also didn’t help that I got tricked numerous times and locked in that closet of horrors by my siblings – usually my brothers (Michael and Jerry) as payback for my nighttime bed-hopping – and because I was gullible as shit! To this day, all closets must be closed tight before I turn out the lights. 

Our annual school picture. Mom had a camera attached to her face since I was born!

Since I had over-stayed my welcome with parents and siblings – I had to come up with a plan B on my nighttime wanderings. I waited until everyone was asleep and the closet bored with my lack of attention. On silent feet, avoiding all the creaky floorboards, I would curl up on the end of my sister’s bed – never disturbing her feet or blankets. I’d lie there without any covers (shivering) and wrap my spindly frame around her legs without touching them. I would relax enough to mimic sleep but alert to her every movement to avoid discovery. It would help me get through the night without irritating my family and without arousing my monsters. I’d get back in my bed just before sunrise, release the six hours of held breath and no one was the wiser. I did this for a few years until I graduated to Plan C – never sleeping again! Later in life, as adults, I told this story to my sister and family. I made my sister cry. I was horrified because it was all my neurosis – not her fault. Who wants a wiggly icicle in bed with them every night! I realized at a young age that sleep was always going to be an issue and gave me plenty of time to go over all my regrets and dreams, as well as, planning out all the notes that I needed to leave my mother. Now I do a mantra of my to-dos and daily chores for the next day to help me eventually fall asleep for a couple hours before the cycle begins anew.

I will end this blog with a moment of painful clarity that influenced my future. I was pre-teen and my sister in high school. Without going into too much detail to protect those involved – I was woken up late at night with an argument between my sister and mom. Dad stood in the backlit doorway with arms crossed. Bridget and mom were having a heated discussion about choices and consequences while Dad just “Tsked” and shook his head while leaving discomfited with this unpleasant exchange. My parents had been out visiting friends and my sister made choices that they disapproved. I lay in bed with my back to my crying mom and sister.

I have no idea why mom called me silly?

I didn’t move but vibrated with curiosity, concern and tension. I somehow felt responsible for this trauma because I should have prevented it from ever happening (middle child logic). My ears perked up – pink and hot – when my mom said, “Bridget, you should be setting a good example for your sister because Colleen is silly and will do whatever you do.” I’m paraphrasing because it was a long time ago – but the word “silly” and “Colleen” were definitely used in the same sentence. I must admit that it may have been true – but I also believe, “Don’t mistake being silly for being stupid!” Quote (Colleen) Unquote. So, I laid there without moving while they finished up and mom left our room. It’s a moment that stands out as significant, never forgotten and taught me to never underestimate those you love. Even unconditional love comes with yellow caution tape!

I’m going to name a few famous, creative and successful Middle Children - people of notoriety:

Abraham Lincoln, Martin Luther King Jr., Princess Diana, Charles Darwin, Ernest Hemingway, Georgia O’Keefe, Susan B. Anthony, Mark Twain, Theodore Roosevelt, Warren Buffet, Bill Gates, David Letterman, Grace Kelly, Martha Stewart, Michael Jordon, Madonna, Diana Ross, Jennifer Lopez

Now I’m going to name the infamous, crazy, creative in their own twisted way Middle Children - insane people of notoriety:

Kim Jong Un, Kim Jong-il, Adolf Hitler, Heinrich Himmler, Osama bin Laden, Genghis Khan, Jesse James, El Chapo, John Wayne Gacy/Gary Leon Ridgeway/Amy Archer-Gilligan (all serial killers), Michael Myers (from “Halloween” fame), Leatherface (from “Texas Chainsaw Massacre” fame) and my personal favorite – Vlad the Impaler!!

Words of wisdom – be very careful who you piss off – they might be a Middle Child!

No, I didn't kill this bear - but I played with it!

To prove that aliens live among us and I'm one of them - the note below appears to assume my mother is stupid and unaware of my origins. I wanted that suede fringed midi vest really bad. I also ran out of room on my torn out tiny piece of paper and wanted to be clear that the fringe was really long, so I extended the fringe to the back side of the paper to idiot-proof my midi (many) demands. Mom siad she laughted so hard when she got this note and knew it was a keeper! Only an alien would assume this note and behavior was normal.

Suede fringed midi vest - turn note over - MOM!

Suede fringed midi vest - don't forget the fringe is long - MOM!

Part 3 of MC will be coming to a blog near you! See you in 2 weeks!

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Please tell everyone that my book is available on Amazon - Menopause the Horror, Humility, and Humor of It All!

Yes - we took our baths together for a long time! We also left occasional "presents!"

Thanks again for your support and encouragement. I am so humbled by your kindness. You are forever my Super Hero’s!!!

Remember – Women Ignite and Women Unite! 

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Let’s be Friends!!

Colleen McIntosh