Gone mental
Notes from my Black
Value
I have had a very hard time finding value in myself. This is not a new thing. When I was young, I was made to feel that my worth came from the thing I accomplished. I was also led to accomplish very little. I was not given the tools to succeed. Instead I was told to go play outside, or no mom can’t help, she has a headache. My siblings were not down for being a parental figure- not enough years between us. I was told I was not the smart one. My road was paved in a way to ensure I was not going to usurp the smart one’s spotlight. In the same one, the smart one was pulled from sports and told to study so I could shine as the dumb jock. Mission accomplished.
The roles we are assigned early on (up to the age of 5) have life long impact. The way we deal with people, how we see the world, how we see ourselves, as well as many more things we can’t immediately see. So when we are tasked to live our lives, it is likely we don’t have all the skills required.
It isn’t our fault. We are groomed to be one way. This independence, this shyness, this dysfunctional way, this empathetic way, this bombastic, hateful, naive, sarcastic, flamboyant, narcissistic upbringing is taught long before we have the ability to understand it. Yet when we are pushed to the curb and told to live our own lives, we are expected to be this upstanding do gooder of a human that will think and act like society expects… why is society so damn stupid? We are given this responsibility but given no opportunity to navigate it. When we need help, it’s kept at a distance. When we need help is when help should be the easiest to obtain! A quick phone call and a sympathetic ear escorts you to a place of understanding. Instead, if we need help, our insurance is weighed and determined if our means matches the willingness to help. The price is determinate of the availability of services. Yes, we have a “free” market. We also have humanity and rules that govern from the blind side of the fist.
Those of us reeling from trauma have little control over the way we feel. The way we feel effects us in every way. We need compassion and help, not bureaucracy and paperwork we may or may it be able to focus on while in the deep well of piss we currently tread water in.
I was going to write about sex and all this came out. It came out because it’s far more heavy in my head than anything else. My friend is reeling right now. Now, I may not have faith in religion, but I do have faith in individuals. This particular individual has taught me an immense amount about life and myself. She has brought perspective and kindness and the kind of laughter that can make you vomit you because you are laughing so involuntarily spontaneously. She’s a really good egg. So when you think of this person, and I ask that you do, send kindness her way. Have a thought of compassion and send a thought of strength.
Be well.