Shaking out the garments...

-
I feel as though, since writing the posts where I diagnosed my parents, and my dad, and later writing the post "F--- you," I am done. Everything else is a post-script. 

Yet, there are still more things to think about and process. 

I feel as though I am shaking out the hems of my garments. Seeing what other pebbles, baubles, or time-bombs may fall out. Get it all out, Ishmael. Get it all out. 

We need to get clean, get clear of these people. Shake them out...

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

in sterquiliniis invenitur

-
Image
Before science was alchemy: a combination of religious, philosophical, and pseudo-scientific ideas. Although “archaic” by our standards, these thinkers were the brilliant minds of their time, and their work made way for true science. According to Jordan Peterson, one of their key dictums was in sterquiliniis invenitur. Peterson liked to interpret that phrase as, “what you most need will be located in the place that you least want to look.” But for my purposes, I like the literal: “in filth it shall be found.” Yes, in filth it shall be found. I am on a journey, and I cannot totally control my trajectory. I just know what the next step is, and which rock to look under next. Some places scare me: some intrigue me. Some disgust me. My recent post on “Girlie” disturbed me greatly. It got me thinking in a very uncomfortable direction. Very, very uncomfortable. Will I publish these words? I do not know. But I need to take this journey. Pubishing is a separate issue. I need to ...
Read more

A need to get away...

-
Although we had asked my parents for space , I had no confidence that they would give it to us. My mom had sent an angry and confusing letter . It was very hard to interpret, but what I felt was a strong sense of shame, entitlement (she felt entitled to my space, myself, my children), and no comprehension or respect at all of my boundaries.  One aspect I found very disturbing -- and quite confusing -- was that she mentioned the scenario of meeting in the grocery store, and my awkwardly trying to ignore her, and scoot past her.  This was exactly the scenario I had imagined in my dream , months earlier. I had spent hours obsessing over this image: it was like a PTSD image, that I had on repeat in my mind. How did my mom have the same image/dreams as myself ?  Then she related a dream. This dream was very different than any dream I have had. However, the fact that she was also having symbolic dreams about our relationship also troubled me. Just how linked are w...
Read more

How my mom made me mad... (Dec 10)

-
How my mom made me mad In a previous post, I mentioned that I had gotten very mad at my mom as a teen. Mad enough to yell “I hate you” at her. And for this, I was spanked. With a belt. As a 16+ year old. And I apologized for it. Try as I can, I cannot remember the specific thing that made me mad. However, I was able to remember the  feeling. As I focus on that feeling, a cluster of other memories comes to the surface.. ** I was sitting on the computer (now in the main area of our house) playing video games. I did that for hours at a time. They weren’t even fun or “good” games. My brothers were into World of Warcraft and Final Fantasy. But I didn’t play those games. I played simple games like solitaire, and basic, cheesy games with poor graphics. Much better games were available. Why was I playing so much? It is hard to say.  I was trying to find work, but not having much success. Why wasn’t I having success?  I had a job as a dishwasher one da...
Read more

Dream: chased by super-mom (Aug. 27)

-
I had a dream sometime this summer. We had watched super-girl before bed. In the movie, there is a powerful “mother-in-law” character who is seeking to destroy and enslave  the world. In my dream, I had been given the series of power, and was flying strongly over my city, when the mother-in-law saw me. I fled and hid. But she found me instantly. I hid again, and again. Every time, she found me. Then, I flew into a house, into a building, and hid in a closet from my childhood, with a sheet over me. I heard her steps approach. Her hands rested on my head and followed my neck and shoulders over the sheet. Her hands were soft, but in total control. She had found me. It was all over. As I woke from the dream, part of my mind said, “but you have the sword of power! Her abdomen is right there! You could wound her, and make her go away!” But the louder part of my mind said, “but I don’t want to hurt her.” I woke feeling very confused, hurting, and controlled. ** Inter...
Read more

Dreams: More thoughts on the missing woman

-
There are a number of images which are all connected to the theme of a missing woman. These came very rapidly, and I forgot some of the connecting material. Rather than re-reading my journal, I’m just going to remember them as I come. I remember a fishing shanty (a place to buy bait). I always like shopping for bait, so this was a happy place. It was very rustic, and there was a dock with very romanticized boards on it, leading out into the water. It was there that one hint came to me, “She fishes without bait!” I could see clearly the hooks, but no fish. It was very significant that she fishes without bait. In another flash, I was entering a shopping mall. Or maybe a supermarket. Some rough looking people passed us on the way out. A darker man…and I realize this may have been the dark figure from the supermarket (the one I refused to think about in my previous journal entry )….laughed in a cruel way, and said, “you will never find her.” He was accompanied by two or three other p...
Read more

Workplace Narcissism: Diaries

-
[Note: I had several minor incidents working with narcissists at work. I collected them all into this post] While being trained for a task, I did a minor mistake. I accidentally bumped a button, causing machinery to go in the wrong direction. I quickly pushed a button to make it come back, and the unexpected motion blew a fuse. Kim and I were stressed about it for a while, and tried to fix it. Finally, electricians came and changed the fuse. There was no real harm done. On the way home, (we carpool) I asked Kim if it was me pushing the button that blew the fuse. He was very reluctant to answer the question. “I would never ever say it was your fault,” he said. “But I just want to know if that’s what I did there cause that reaction?” It seemed important to know. I wasn’t offended if it was me. It was an honest mistake.  He did verbal gymnastics for a while, trying his very best to avoid putting any blame on me, but finally said yes, probably it was you. “But I’m not blamin...
Read more