Primal Beings: Rage and Detachment
I have two types of friends: one type thinks and re-thinks everything to death; the other type lives life without doing much heavy thinking because feelings guide their actions.
I'm stuck in the middle, over-thinking my feelings, afraid to do any living that brings me personal happiness. I have been trained to accept crap as a life-long condition, and as long as I detach from the pain, I'm ok.
This detachment of mine seems to be rage-related, and I finally see how neglecting my own personal needs feeds into this. What amuses me is how far this pattern goes back, and how such internal rage can be caused. How do I not see how not having my natural mother made me such a miserable-being? If I allow myself to think back to the days of me laying in a diaper, not sure if my basic-needs were going to be consistently cared about or tended.... back when a simple change in condition, like a feeling of soft dryness or a warm feeding had to follow someone's schedule that did not at all reflect my screaming needs. I see very clearly how I have been rendered mute because my voiced preference never mattered from the beginning.
Mute-rage is my mutation, and I hate it, and there's not a damn thing that can change my life's origins. My first year was lived among strangers who allowed my head to go flat on one side. What does that say about the amount of care and attention Baby Girl 1968 got from her surrounding adults?
It suffocates me and bathes me in pain, thinking about the pattern that so easily developed...but my voice is silent to those who should care.
Those who should, don't... those who try are not the same who can do much to help the whole picture that grows dark before my always open eyes.
There have been so many "replacements", not one being what I wanted. I know this to my primal core, as I feel it deep inside my bones.
The silent screams make my ears bleed, but those too, go unseen... so I have learned to accept rage as my internal friend... the one who refuses to go away.
Bookmark/Search this post with:
- Kerry's blog
- Login or register to post comments
- 137 reads
Comments
detachment
as long as I detach from the pain, I'm ok
What does "ok" mean. When I am detached, it is usually because I am not feeling good at all, there is nothing ok to my detachment, what makes it yours is?
Removed and Separate
For myself, the process of removal is very difficult and painful, but once I separate myself from the experience of Feeling, the void of nothing becomes it's own numbing source that becomes pleasing. [The pain is gone, so I'm free to move on in my world of remote stagnation.]
I remember in Nursing School we were taught about bed sores, called decubiti [graphic images can be found here: http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://hab.hrsa.gov/tools/palliative/images/P25-5.gif&imgrefurl=http://hab.hrsa.gov/tools/palliative/chap25.html&h=268&w=400&sz=82&hl=en&start=2&tbnid=CMR4HS2S4my-JM:&tbnh=83&tbnw=124&prev=/images%3Fq%3Ddecubitus%26gbv%3D2%26hl%3Den] These sores looked so incredibly painful, yet the wounds start from within first, and the dead tissue is just that: dead. As hard as it is to imagine, these patients can't feel the lesions because they go beyond the nerve-endings.
In many ways, I can feel certain emotions that way. When the pain gets bad, I turn it off, so I don't have to endure it anymore.... yet I know (intellectually) the source inside me still festers.
The conflict in me is much like the bed-sore situation: do I move, fearing excruciating pain... or do I stay still knowing long-term damage is going to happen, anyway? Have my instincts (sense of smell and fear) failed me, or has my own mind become my own worst enemy -- because I don't trust anything that comes my way.
Does that make sense?
.
Perfect Sense
Is is not the pleasing-ness of numbness that we have learned as pleasure in this world?.... our typically known pleasure that
we seek because we were not allowed the normal pleasure of our mothers? I seek this numbness as addicts seek a drug.
I'm addicted to the numbness/pleasure of "removed and separate."
The first sign of a true human Feeling and I'm out of there... In MY stagnation I am so unworthy of anything remotely a true
human Feeling that I'm perverted in my pleasure that is numbness.
When I read your words, Kerry, I have validation.
IN A WORLD OF WHY,
Teddy
Depth in "Compare and Contrast"
<smile> You struck a nerve that felt good in it's own sardonic way...
I find for myself, like the emotional addict that I have become, my numbness serves me well until I sense the stench of pain in someone else's hell. What does that mean, exactly? It means I can't relate to superficial-fluff that most normal people call "troubling" or "disturbing". In fact, such drivel often disgusts me, forcing me to walk away before I want to play and hurt that person!
Instead, I feel alive with pain and sick pleasure when I have found me a fellow bottom-dweller who's willing to share detailed conversations of their own lives, especially if they have felt and swallowed the human waste some dare to call "love" or "interest". In those cases, my inner-warmth and compassion flourish and feed the hungry soul until the wounds have mended enough to move-on.
I think in most verbal conversations, a person's sense of humor says a lot about their personal-perspective on people, so I tend to gravitate towards certain sick-pups. [I also keep people at arm's length because it's much safer that way... for both parties.] In writing, I call the Remove/Separate Process, "Weeding through the lines". In fact, members can see samples of this personality-profile through our User-Pages. It's amazing to me how much depth and shades of coldness can be found, especially when a person dares to reveal himself as a member of the animal kingdom.
Oddly enough, I find those most "unworthy" of attention are the ones most hungry for the crumbs of human-decency. <twisted laugh>
It's such a cruel backwards world... isn't it?