ERNIE AND ERNESTINA: Searching

Book Two, Chapter 302: A Blind Search

At the very first Twelve Step meeting I attended, just over a year ago, boundaries was the topic.

What are boundaries? I wondered. What are these people talking about?

Now, a year later, I still think about boundaries. I always will. They’re that important. We set boundaries and respect the boundaries of others — or we don’t — every day of our lives, with everyone we encounter.

Ernie and I didn’t know how to set healthy boundaries with each other. That’s why he could write I am you, and you are me and believe it. And think it was love. That’s why I didn’t disagree with him. Ernie and I were soulmates, weren’t we? Siamese twins. Nothing would separate us.

But this is how newborns think — if a newborn can think. We’re all inside our mamas for nine months. That’s all we know. When we emerge, we have no concept of being a separate person. In our infant minds, we’re still connected with mama. No umbilical cord anymore, yet still connected.

As babies, we have to hang on to someone. And someone has to be there for us to hang onto, to let us know who we are, that we matter, that our cries will be answered consistently, that our needs will be met appropriately, that we’ll be touched and held in a loving manner. With all this in place, we feel safe and secure. We feel loved even if we don’t know the word or recognize the feeling.

But if our mamas don’t give us enough of what we need — milk, warmth, touch, attention, recognition — a craving begins. We want what we need, and if we don’t get it, or don’t get enough of it, a neediness and an emptiness sets in. We feel hollow inside. Something is missing.

This sets up the search. All our lives we look for what we need that we missed. And what is it that we’re missing?

Love. And without it, we do not thrive. We can survive, yet we do not thrive.