Secrets and Lies Part I

guiltmeme

Day one on Planet Earth. Happy Birth Day. A day to be legally falsified, shrouded in lies and secrets. The record I produce for my entire life will bear this tale. My own genetic history kept a mystery. Something I was not entitled to thanks to the mistakes, insecurities and decisions of everyone but me. It took me thirty six guilt laden years before I permitted myself to feel deserving enough and to put my needs before those who were supposed to put mine first.

 

Golden Globe

broken-heart-art

Meryl Streep’s departing line of her acceptance speech. The best artists are oftentimes those who are the most tortured of souls. My Happiness Project journal prompt last night brought me to a stark realization. I have been frantically searching for the past 2 years (the years of the dark night of my soul), for that which brings me happiness. I used to know this very easily. Even though I also used to know utter torture as well, I also used to know and have extreme happiness and joy in my life also. I have been desperately seeking that in so many different facets and coming up empty-handed. New and old are all disappointing me equally. Music seems to be the only thing that still never fails me, only I can fail it. In to it, I always pour my broken heart…

Renewal

acceptbeget

At the culmination of each year, everyone starts to think about what their New Year’s Resolutions will be. Ringing in a New Year is often seen as a sign of renewal or rebirth for a good majority of the world. I get the added bonus, or catharsis depending on your vantage point, of my birthday falling on December 21st, a few days shy of the New Year Renewal Ritual.

My birthday has always brought with it a lot of bittersweet emotions. I have always attributed this to the fact that I am adopted, and many other adoptees attest to the fact that they too struggle with their birthday each year. It is a reminder of the life I could have had, a reminder of the fact that I was surrendered or given up because I was a burden to those I was born to, a reminder of the loss of birthrights that every other class of humans that walk this earth are entitled to, a reminder that the parents I grew up with are not the parents that gave birth to me and are not my genetic link to my ancestors or geneology. And I believe my adoptive parents have always subconsciously felt this reminder at my birthday because throughout the years, they have successfully ruined many birthdays for me; from yelling at me because I was sick, to grounding or yelling at me because I was a half hour late coming home from my 21st birthday celebration, to flat out forgetting to call me one year. Yet these are the same people who call me by 3 pm to remind me to call the other parent on their birthday if I hadn’t called yet because they thought I had forgotten.

Heading in to the New Year is always a compounded vortex of sensitivities for me. Facing the open wounds of my recent birthday woes and trying to set new goals for the upcoming year ahead all within a short period of time.

My husband recently made the comment that in years past he always goes in to each year with a positive outlook, hoping and thinking that the new year will be better than the last, planning for it to be with all the goals to set in motion to make it so. This seems like the way that most people step in to the New Year. And it is always joked about that most people fall off their own bandwagon shortly thereafter. My husband said he might do things different this year and go in to this coming year with the expectation that things will be the same, or even get worse and it will just be a surprise bonus if things turn out good for once. His words lingered in my mind.

I think he is on to something. At least for the way things work in our world, this might be the best way for us to approach our life. It may seem pessimistic and negative to the rest of the free world. This may be why we have become hermits and loners in our old age. We don’t associate well with everyone else and others can’t seem to handle our way of dealing with life.

As with my last quote that I posted, hope devalues acceptance. The more I seem to have hope that things will get better, the more expectations I have of how things are supposed to be, or that some day things will get better. And with each passing day when things don’t get better, during those moments when things take the opposite turn and get worse when I thought I was already pretty low on the totem pole (yes, I realize there are always people out there who have it worse than me), I fall deeper in to depression and feel hopeless, wanting to resist my life and run away from everything-starting over from scratch where no one knows me. This blog is sort of a testament to that, because no one who knows me has access to or knows about this blog. It is my little secret from those who know me in real life.

My “hope” (love the irony there) is that if I face the New Year setting out to accept my life and accept where I am in it and who I have become and am becoming/shifting to become, then I might find some renewal and clarity, this helping me to move forward, rather than staying stuck in this holding pattern of utter depression where I have no real game plan for how to truly get my life in order so that I can move in the direction of up.

via Daily Prompt: Renewal

Eggshells

13319746_1270485386295046_5570199231566883930_n

I am that person who is non-confrontational. Sure, I let off steam and vent alot. But when it comes to actual communication and confronting the issues and situations that need to be addressed with people, I cower like the Cowardly Lion in the Wizard of Oz.

This stems from constantly being put down as a child and always being made to feel like I was wrong. My parents never admitted they were wrong and never apologized to me. EVER! They still haven’t. And I am going to be 39 in 1 day and they are 73. The best apology I ever get from them is,”I’m sorry you feel that way.” Never an admission of guilt. So I have always bourn the burden of feeling as though I am the loser in every argument. This carried in to my adulthood and has become a complex.

Due to my insecurities and conversely competitive nature, I started avoiding arguments and tough conversations at all costs the older I get. When I was younger I would avoid them with my parents so I wouldn’t get in trouble. As an adult, I avoid them so that my PTSD isn’t triggered and so that I don’t constantly feel inferior, as though I am always in a losing battle. I am a very sensitive person, so whenever my intense emotions are triggered by conflict, my gut instinct and reaction is to cry. This automatically is seen as a sign of weakness which has probably marketed me to friends and partners as easy prey. Add to that my own inner desire to avoid the conflict in the first place, need to people please, constant apologetic attitude, and desire to always work on my self, I am a recipe for disaster.

And so, I suck down all my feelings whenever I am at war with myself over something that is eating away at me over a controversial issue within any given relationship. I fester, and then often explode with emotions at the most inopportune moments. I am often made to feel as if I am in charge of everyone’s feelings. And if I confront someone during one of their 356 bad days out of the year, then I am this horrific person who can’t even hold out when I knew they were having a rough time. Yet NO ONE grants me this. Nor do I ever ask them to tip toe around me or walk on eggshells. I am so tired of feeling like I have to bottle up everything and keep my mouth shut and stay a prisoner in my own head just to maintain everyone else’s sanity. I am on the brink of insanity myself and no one seems to give a damn. All I hear are constant comparisons about how I don’t know what their life is like, I’ll never understand, their situations are so much worse then mine. I’m sick of no one recognizing the pain I am in and the turmoil I have gone through in my life. And the continued stifling of myself and sacrificing of myself that I do for everyone else’s sake. I am tired of everyone only ever seeing their own perspective and never slowing down for a second to consider someone else’s. Because I feel like, although I may not always be successful at this, I try very hard, and no one else even gives it a second thought. They just go on being themselves and not caring what the world thinks. There is self confidence, and there are character flaws that need to be changed when you are clearly pushing people away and angering and torturing everyone close to you. People need to get their heads out of their beehinds and look at themselves in a third person perspective for once. Because if something doesn’t change soon, I will be changing more drastically then I ever have before in my life. I already have been making some slow drastic changes. And if people around me don’t wake up and start seeing into my soul….That will be the last they will be seeing of me. The ants go marching one by one hurrah…..

Humanity Switch

0514159bdf0abf507775a6de2807327e09bdd7-wm

Knurd (drunk spelled backwards) is “the opposite of being drunk. It’s as sober as you can ever be. It strips away all the illusion, all the comforting pink fog in which people normally spend their lives, and lets them see and think clearly for the first time ever. Then, after they’ve screamed a bit, they make sure they never get knurd again” – Terry Pratchett

The problem with me is that, I have never spent my life in that pink fog. The only pink fog I have lived through are the rose colored glasses that I once saw the world through due to living in what I thought was a sheltered bubble. My parents sheltered me from the real world, while exposing me to so much other inner torture that many others don’t have to experience. And I live with that inner torture without the pink fog….totally “knurd”. I have never turned to drugs, nicotine or alcohol. I have lived my tortured life completely sober. The worst vice I have is food/sweets. A little bit of a spending/shopping issue. But nothing outlandish. The pain is becoming far too much to bear. I wish I could shut down, shut it off like a humanity Switch. I am an extremely sensitive person and I get hurt every step of the way. One would think I would be immune to hurt by now, but I’m not. I have begun to shut out the world. The less human relationships I have, the less I have to deal with. I wish I could live on a deserted island. Being a sensitive, feeling human being sucks. No one understands me. I have drifted further and further away from understanding and wanting to be a part of the human connection. It’s just not worth it anymore. The hurt outweighs the good for me. I wish I could find my way back, but I fear I have seen too much…

 

 

Home Base Default Setting

img_5876

Many people probably view me as someone who plays the victim role in life. As someone who is very vocal about my pain and suffering, and who often over steps boundaries in order to tell my stories, most probably perceive me as someone who is looking for sympathy. But honestly, I am quite the opposite. It helps my self esteem when people to whom I have told a part of my story, or those who have been with my on part of my journey tell me how amazing it is that I am as functional as I am. Or that I have beaten the odds. Or that people like me give those who have faced less adversity in their life no excuse to behave as poorly as they do when I have been able to rise from my ashes. It is the recognition of what I have been through, and the admiration for what I have done to pull myself through that helps me continue to rise above.

As someone who has felt constant invalidation, been doubted by so many as to the validity of my stories, and been made to feel like a crazy person; hearing from others how strong and resilient of a person I am is what I need the most to continue healing. It is when people question my truths, question the eccentricity of my emotions, question whether I make mountains out of molehills, question whether I am the drama seeker; that pulls me under.

My home base default setting is that I want to be viewed as someone who is strong BECAUSE I face my darkness head on and don’t succumb to it. My home base desire is for people to recognize me as someone who is not a negative person that resides under a grey cloud of doom because I am a negative person and want to rain on everyone’s sunshine day, but rather for people to see that I have been thrown a ton of curve balls and I am not one to ever take the easy way out by resorting to drugs or alcohol to deal with my problems or rather mask them. I face them full on and that often means having to get dirty by sliding in to home base in order to score (read: weather the storm before seeing the sun again).

via Daily Prompt: Base