2000-08-26 - 07:55 MDT

August 26, 2000

Big Bill

I think there is a German word for him and probably a Freudian and Jungian term for him too. I think I have briefly talked of him, here and there a bit and a Schroderian Forum question asking about fictional characters created by us brought him, living and breathing again to life. I think that he is owed a better tribute.

Big Bill was born in my mind I believe, about the time Mom went back to work, I started school, and stayed with a very grouchy, picky-picky woman across the alley.

As I have said before, I was an only lonely child and as shy as an only child can be -- not encountering the hubris in a family with sibs -- Big Bill fulfilled my lonely need for brother, pal, and someone who was ever present, and of course he was older, wiser and kinder than most other people, I was happy to myself be, "Little Bill".

School was interesting and I enjoyed it. At the end of the school day as I walked toward the old bat's house, Big Bill would catch up with me as I left the school house and walk with me to her place, and some times stay with me while she was her mean self to an unbearable degree.

When we were together either he was talking to me or I was talking to him -- there were no times of silence.

Not being an educated person and not learned in the realm of psychiatry, I still am curious about the things dealt with in that field. Was he my id (the one supposed to occupy my subconscious - I think) that rose to my mind and life to enable me to exist in a lonely world -- who knows?

Things became difficult enough at the old bat's house that I tried different approaches with Mom trying to get her to understand how unhappy I was over there and how I would rather be home alone until she and my Dad got home from work. Finally she saw how desperately unhappy I was with that ego swallower and she and Dad talked things over with me. They gave me my guiding precepts - no playmates in the house when I was alone at home. Chores to do after school and how to answer the phone and tell anyone that Mom was at the store and was due home at any minute, not to fall for any guff that an unknown person would try to feed me and not to believe anything unless the person was a known friend of theirs or a relative and above all not to go with them anywhere -- be ready to slam and lock the door if things looked bad. I was given the precious symbol of trust, the key to our Yale door lock. Thinking back now I can see the trepidation with which they approached the situation. Another thing was not to give away to the neighbors that no one was at home with me. I guess I did a good job as no Nosy-Parkers came around for a few years. Later on as the neighbors caught on I became their whipping boy, I was the one who made their son or daughter do some bad thing or another. Anyway I became what was later to be called a latch key kid.

Big Bill was the only one it the world who was with me when I woke in the morning and fell asleep at night. He would stay in the background until we were alone and then our conversation would continue where it had left off.

Split personality, maybe, but it was good. Big Bill was a much nicer and better behaved person than I was and often advised against a course of action I wished to pursue, and dammit, I listened to him because every time I disregarded what he said, my butt would boil in the hot water I created.

Thinking back, maybe it shows me that Big Bill helped me to cope with life, the old bat and the Big Depression in my early life. He enabled me to learn to live with the heretofore unknown peers in my life and steadied me as I went.

One day, I wondered where he was and I realized we hadn't been together for a long time. Was it when I gathered enough friends or when my mind and hormones became aware of Girls! or a combination of both. But I am sad, he didn't say goodby, only faded unobtrusively away.

Now I wonder, who became the adult me, Little Bill or Big Bill ?

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