((BULLETIN : Sorry there was no blog entry yesterday, folks, but my computer spent most of the day up on blocks. So to speak.))
God, did I need to hear that.
Here’s my notes :
It’s not my fault they didn’t love me, it had nothing to do with me.
My mother emotionally abandoning me was not my fault.
The bullying was not my fault.
I am worthy just for being me.
Stop abandoning myself. I don’t deserve it.
Treat myself like I am worth something until I believe it.
Every word of that is therapeutic dynamite to me. It’s all so simple and yet the effect on my undeserved and unproductive burden of shame has be nothing short of electric.
It’s by no means gone yet. But I have the tools I need to cut it loose.
Because I didn’t deserve any of the bad shit that happened to me as a kid. I did nothing wrong. It was the people who were supposed to love and care for me who should burn with shame for all eternity for the callous and ignorant way they treated a child who was clearly in trouble and desperately needed their help but they just could not be bothered.
Why? Because they thought I was pathetic and gross, for one.
And yes, I am definitely including my entire family in this circle of Hell. Including my mother, who in some ways is the most culpable of all because she was the grownup in the situation who could have intervened on my behalf in oh so many ways but didn’t do a god damned thing because I didn’t count in her world, either.
The last thing anyone in my family wanted to hear, especially her, was anything that meant they had to creakily and reluctantly get up off their asses and actually spend literally any amount of time, energy, or money on me.
Because I wasn’t even supposed to exist.
Well I didn’t ask to be born and it’s not my fault I was unplanned. I deserved every bit of all the love, attention, affection, investment, and consideration that my three older siblings got but every older person in my life failed me utterly and gave me the sharp and distinct impression that they wished I’d just go fuck off and die.
No wonder I have been so suicidal in the past. I was just trying to do what I thought everyone wanted me to do.
I am the victim of massive injustice on a truly epic scale. And the worst of their crimes is that they made me complicit in the whole thing by raising me to be grateful for absolutely anything I got (because I of course deserved absolutely nothing) and to never ever ever ask for anything ever because that would just remind them that I still existed and they hated that.
I mean, I shouldn’t ever have been born so it was bad enough they were stuck feeding and housing my worthless self. But to have the gall to want MORE?
I spent my whole childhood in that cringing, fawning, hand-wringing position.
“Thank you for kicking me in the head, sir. It’s more than I deserve and I know it. I will go back to the basement and lick some mold off the bricks then, shall I?”
Fuck that. That’s far from who I really am. I am a creature of fiery defiance. I am he who would spit in Satan’s face and tell me, quite sincerely, to go to Hell.
But not my Hell. That’s private.
I think I’ve gone so long without truly facing the truth of my childhood because I knew that if I did, I would have to get incredibly angry, and I was scared of that.
Well I am pissed off now. And I am going to stay that way for a while.
I got nothing but shit my entire childhood and I didn’t deserve any of it.
And I definitely did nothing to deserve what the occupant of the lowest level of my Inferno did to me : he raped me.
Nobody deserves that.
Not even him.
More after the break.
The floor is mean
So I got up to go get some food from the kitchen and I got as far as the door to my room when two massive attacks of dizziness hit me, causing the floor to smack me on the top of the head twice.
Subjectively speaking, that is.
That level of dizziness scares me, because it’s not just feeling woozy or being a tad off kilter or whatever.
I was violently dizzy. Those blows to the head knocked first to my knees and then all the way to the floor.
That’s when I knew I was in trouble.
Trouble that turned my trip to the kitchen and back an adventure.
Parenthetically, I know I probably should have just headed back into my room and skipped the kitchen trip but I was not sure if I had any water on hand back here in front of Mister Computer so getting a can of something fizzy was vitally important.
Because I knew what the problem was. There is only one circumstance in which I get super dizzy these days and that’s when I am dehydrated.
And it’s not hard to see how I got there because when I woke up from a nap I discovered that my room was SUPER HOT.,
So I presumably sweated till I ran out of moisture.
When I managed to get back to Command Central here, I sat down in the chair, thinking I was home free.
Only to find I was too dizzy to type.
So I grabbed my can of fizzy lemonade, got into bed, and stuck my head in a fan. [1]
It felt wonderful. So I sat there for about twenty minutes, sipping my precious source of hydration and glorying in the blessed coolness of the fan.
That got me cooled off enough to come type to you lovely people.
Just another adventure in the humdrum life of a broken down sickie like me.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.
- Not literally. That’s just my colorful way of saying I sat with my head very close to a fan while it was turned on. It’s something I learned to do in order to cope with my being prone to heat stroke.↵