Most people nowadays would look at mythological tales and write them off as silly bedtime stories that involve such things as animal sodomy and human sacrifice, in conjunction with heroes overcoming tenacious odds and adversity. But then again, it’s not a wonder that most things produced by this universe are polarized in some capacity.
Thankfully one can break the patterns that bind them as chains restrict a prisoner to a cell that offers limited opportunity for growth and expansion. Now granted this cell could be the mind, an actual prison cell, or poverty, although the mind (subconscious programming) will ultimately make or break the experience one has in life.
So what is the the pattern above? The mythological representation of cyclical patterns we’ve been referencing for the past two paragraphs (the Ouroborus for those who didn’t catch it). Now just what in tarnashins are you goin on about?
Oh, sure thing! Well let’s think here for a second. Oh, I know! We’ll use a real world example to give y’all a better idea of what this monkey’s mind noodle regularly contemplates as he goes through his animalistic routines throughout the week.
My daddy rarely showed love and affection to those who were apart of his life. Not to mention the fact my mommy was a malignant narc who got her kicks from denying anyone love and affection, so needless to say this little monkey spent more time around excremental behavior as opposed to learning how to offer love and affection to those who filled his spacial bubble – regardless of how temporary.
But enough about her because I want to focus on the man who spent more time on his bed watching television, instead of spending it with his kids who desperately needed loving attention that didn’t involve passive aggression, chastisement, awkwardness, or just plain ‘ole toxic rage. The man in question? Well he could be summed up in one word…
You see, my deceased father (committed suicide upon having put the family through hell since he experienced his own) loved to tell anyone NO if they wanted to do something. This in turn meant all of the power and privilege filtered to the world’s best mother who only used it to sequester even more influence as she tugged and pulled on the strings that moved an entire family unit. She was a real puppet master, let me tell ya!
But in any case, I digress because the point is my dead daddy could be summed up with the following when he was alive: alcohol, sports, work, and bed. (no particular order)
So how did his son (me) grow up considering he had such a shining example of what a man should be in the world? (there’s actually nothing wrong with being human while liking the aforementioned interests, although it’s always an issue if one’s lack of stability prevents them from tending to the needs they were held responsible for taking care of – they just happened to be my dad’s cup of tea).
But in any case, I digress because the point is my younger self (19 years old) could be summed up with the following when he was alive: psychedelics, computers, work, and bed. (once again, no particular order)
I spent hours sitting in front of a computer – probably just as much if not more than the amount of time my father sat in front of his bedroom television set. My preference for dissociation was merging my attention into the world of online gaming, or real time strategy games that consumed hours of my time. At least it was better than being yelled at for just existing…
So that meant I spent little time developing or even maintaining relationships since my dad never did. After all, it’s kind of hard to make friends when most of your time is devoted towards keeping up on the latest hockey, baseball, or football games. (once again, similar flavors but different drinks – much like Sprite and 7up) I.e. similar patterns with the same results that produced isolation, social awkwardness, and an inability to extend loving warmth towards those who shared our bubbles. (not implying soda causes one to be a hermit, although I wouldn’t know because I don’t drink it)
Hell, we even made respective visits to our local psych unit! I was on the kid’s floor since I was 15 at the time and he was obviously on the adult floor at 50 something, and we all know how our respective visits ended… (I’m alive and he’s dead)
So it took a while to recognize how similar I was to my dad because I didn’t want anything to do with a man who not only shared similar features (eye shade, hair color, facial structure), but also happened to completely uproot my family’s sense of dysfunctional stability. His mess-up simply shined a light on the fact something was off in our neck of the woods, but he left one of his sons (me) to take charge and dive down the rabbit hole of narcissism in order to fully comprehend the machine they all unknowingly were entwined as if it were a massive web of distortions and abuse that actively worked to feed off their souls and lives alike.
I’ve nearly been No Contact for year, and it’s the best damn decision I’ve made since I entered adulthood. That’s not to say the experience has been easy peasy, lemon squeezey! But it sure beats being chastised and treated like a turd or a used condom 24/7, let me tell ya!
So where am I now? Well I actually have a relationship with my cat that doesn’t involve yelling at him for throwing up (frustration with mess even though he was the one who had to feel yucky for throwing up, no need to make a nervous cat even more nervous), ignoring him (he would actually resort to stepping all over my keyboard to get my attention, oh and I never really played with him because I didn’t know caretakers should spend time with their loved ones in order to promote their sense of value through recognition – it’s called taking time to show interest in another’s interest = bonding), or – well I had everything else covered because he never went without food, and his litter was always cleaned because no one likes smelly litter. (if you do then we can’t be friends)
How does he react? Well he doesn’t run away or lower his back and tail as often (unless a meteor were to fall from the sky or something else along those lines). But when he does, I assure him everything is okay and there’s nothing to worry about because he hasn’t done anything wrong to upset me if I happen to let out a grunt before realizing he might take it as though he did something to cause the upset. So he’s been walking all over the kitchen counter-tops even more so than he has in the past, and play sessions are becoming quite the hit at our humble abode.
Get a plastic water bottle and cut a hole near one end so treats can fall out as your kitty pushes it around – sounds + activity = FUN
Cut several holes in a box and tape noisy material on the end of a rod as you move it back and forth among the holes so your kitty can fill dem holes with their paws as they attempt to wrestle the assailant – sounds + activity = FUN
Use a laser toy to watch in hilarity as your kitty runs around wildly in order to catch what he never can. But a treat always helps to encourage him to keep hunting 😉 – activity = FUN
Just rotating those three activities is enough for my baby to get something out of our hermit-like existence, and it makes nap times even better since he’s more inclined to snuggle next to his daddy 🙂 Not to mention the fact I love spending time with him. Just writing that brings tears to my eyes because I never heard my own father say that before he died. It’s okay though because I’m becoming a parent who is capable of providing for those he is responsible for loving. My cat doesn’t have to be in my life, but he is and I’m going to make the best of our time left together.
The lessons learned from living with another being, along with working with my disabled clients have taught me to establish healthy boundaries that allow me to spend time with others without compromising my own sense of value and worth. I.e. I’ve been learning how to successfully fill another’s cup without depleting my own. (breaking dysfunctional patterns)
I even got to hang out with my friend who I missed the weekend before this last one because that’s how the cookie crumbled, and we had a blast meeting up this past weekend. I even blurted out in front of his kids and wife that I’m awkward when it comes to hugs (something I’m weird about because my own family’s version of love was shockingly abrasive and fake – minus my aunt and uncle because I’m Peter Parker), and my friend responded with the words “it’s okay, I am too.” (his momma is similar to mine, and this isn’t a red flag for those questioning the legitimacy because he’s a really good guy who understands where I come from – something that’s hard for anyone who hasn’t suffered narcissistic abuse to relate)
In any case, I’m starting to feel comfortable being myself around people and even online because I have nothing to hide. I mean – my eBooks are available for free even though they’re also available for purchase via most retail outlets for anyone who enjoyed reading them or found them useful.
I’m proud of what I’ve been able to accomplish thus far in life considering where I came from, and life keeps getting better and better as I stop hiding from the world around me. I know how difficult it is to enjoy life when C-PTSD, depression, or a scarcity mindset (let’s face it, there’s nothing functional about a mind that constantly kicks itself for existing) put a damper on the experience. But I am an example that one can overcome the issues of their past by shedding the old as they embrace the new.
It takes work and dedication, but everyone is capable of improving their experience in this life – even if it’s temporary. Why? Because we all deserve to enjoy the life that was given to us. But no one has the right to take that away from us, even though people don’t always get the genetic lottery in terms of being birthed in a family that isn’t dysfunctional in some way or another. I mean, the world didn’t get the way it is because of how functional humanity is…
However, that doesn’t mean we’re stuck with the maladaptive behaviors and mindsets our own caretakers used to raise us. Why? Because I said so. Seriously, we can change.
So I’ll finish today’s message with a bit on empathy because it was recently brought to my attention that I completely lack it.
Long story short, there was a “fight” over the definition of forgiveness.
What did the “fight” consist of? Me trying to convey the point that one who has suffered abuse need not forgive the abuser, but the abuse itself. I.e. it’s healthy to process feelings of rage, hate, bitterness, and so on because holding onto them will only prevent someone from enjoying the present. Why? Because you know there’s a problem when your cheese falls off its cracker when the very name, scent, sound, etc. associated with an abuser happens to come across your mind noodle whether via memory, or even the off chance you run into them for whatever reason.
We then recognized for the first time that to forgive does not mean to love.
For none can love that which is unlovable.
However, we can accept the harm that was felt and delivered without thought in mind.
So they blocked me on Twitter, and that’s okay because I know the steps I’ve taken have led me to a new way of life. One in which I don’t have to spend 24/7 slaying the dragons of doubt and fear as to whether or not I deserve to be here. In any case, I accept what has come to pass because I wouldn’t be where I am without the experiences I’ve had. Now that’s not to say I would wish any of my life experiences on anyone because I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemies. Why? Because life has been pretty turdly for the past 24 years. But no longer.
Why? Because 25 is coming up, and I know the universe has wonderful things in store for me. That’s why I enjoy healing – it offers me the opportunity to encourage others to do the same for themselves because we are powerful, beautiful, and extraordinary. We can be the captains of our ships as we steer them into the vast reaches of a galaxy that rests suspended in a sea of star clusters. Cheers.
Ladies and gents, the cycle…
Featured Image: Pinterest – Ouroboros