Well I’m all kinds of fucked up right now
The usual suspects are here : nausea, headache, dizziness. And the fun part is I woke up feeling this way.
How come I never wake up feeling good?
The best I cam hope for is those golden moments when I wake up feeling somewhat rested or not too miserable in particular
Dare to dream.
Did the therapy thing today, Told him about recent liberation from my burden of shame, which I would describe as “ongoing”.
Like I said before, they key to it all is anger. Anger is the perfectly appropriate and proportional response to realizing you got royally fucked in the Which Family Will You Be Born To lottery and for your entire childhood you were abused in the most cruel and callous ways by people who were supposed to love and support and cherish but treated me like something they scraped off their shoe instead.
I wonder if they ever really loved me. Oh, they say that they do, but they are hardly going to say “Not really. You were gross and weird and embarrassing,. We all kind of hoped you’d get hit by a bus. ” are they?
That would mean admitting having done something that sounds sort of wrong, for some reason, and there is no way I warranted even a half second of feeling and looking bad.
They were ruthlessly scrupulous in their appointed task of making sure absolutely no resources – love, attention, investment, forgiveness, anything – went to me.
After all, if it went from them, they would then have less, and that’s clearly nonsense.
I mean, basic logic dictates that any resources diverted from worthwhile people (like them) to a worse than worthless person (like me) is the worst kind of profligate waste.
Might as well be shredding hundred dollar bills in the garburator.
And I had none of the social instincts to recognize this as abuse. All childhoods are normal till you meet other kids, after all, and this punitive and neglectful childhood was perfectly normal to me.
Which was convenient to them because it meant they’d get away with it.
And that’s all that matters, right?
It let them never have to deal with the unspeakable horror if having to figure out how to split things four ways in stead of just three,
What errant nonsense! That would mean they got less, and that’s clearly unthinkable.
And they didn’t have to. There was nobody forcing them to treat me kindly.
So they didn’t. QED, Duh.
I mean come on. I was gross and weird and so smart it made them feel bad about themselves, and nobody could love a kid like that, right?
There was two paths they could have chosen – a) find it in their hearts to sacrifice a third or so of what they had out of love for their weird and wonderful kid/little brother, or b) treat me like shit and give me less than nothing.
They chose B.
They were too selfish to give me absolutely anything of theirs. Why give iup anything for a little brother who was never invited to the family in the first place?
No mercy for gatecrashers, I guess.
More after the break.
Um, that’s all for now due to illness. Sorry,