I am beginning Chapter 2 of I Never Knew I Had a Choice on March 13, expectting to complete it on March 14. The chapter is tittled “Reviewing Your Childhood and Adolescence”. This will be a rocky road: if something is sure is that both are filled with trauma, even if I myself wasn’t able to see it until relatively recently.
The chapter begins affirming that “If you are an autonomous person, you are able to function without constant aproval or reasurrance, are sensitive to the needs of pthers, can effectively meet the demands of daily living, are willing to ask for help when it is needed, and can provide support for others. In essence, you have the ability both to stand alone and to stand by another person”… Well, if you define autonomous in those terms, yes, I am autonomous, with a very i portant observation: I have never been able to know if I can stand by another… erm… non-spiritual person. I know I can stand besides Jesus Charity, but I had never had the chance to know if I can stand by another livint human-flesh-touchable person. Understood? 🙃
“Chronological age is not the only index in considering physical, emotional and social age”. True. I swear my two progenitors have the emotional/social maturity of toddlers, always throwing hate passive-aggresive tantrums.
“The systemic view is that individuals cannot really be understood apart from the family system of which they are part”. In a kid, this is absolutely true. In an adult like me, it is true in other sense: as you know my family, you can understand how huge had been the obstacles I have overcome through my existence, with the help of God’s grace.
“Levinson (1996) writes that a developmental crisis occurs when an individual has a great difficulty meeting the tasks of the current period and that the individual often experiences moderate to severe crises during these transitional periods. The crises revolve around being caught between the ending of one phase of life and the beginning of another era in one’s development”. I do agree with these kind of crises, but there are another kind of crises: the growth crises, in which either you change or you go backwards and get stuck or even harm yourself. The growth crises may be or not be transitional crises. I don’t think all crises are transitional, as Levinson suggests.
“To a large extent, our lives are the result of the choices we make at each stage of life”… This is not always true. Not always the right choices are given, and you are forces to commit things you wouldn’t have done if given the right resources/role models. Think, as example, in a teen who never knew a positive male role model, because never knew his father, and simply have seen machist male role models, or even gang male role models. He ends in jail because he knew no better way to behave, nor had honest opportunities to get what he needed. Would you say that what that teen is living is the result of his own choices? I don’t think so. The situation is not rare. Thousands of narcos end there due lack of better opportunities, due lack of choices. This is why I strongly believe in giving better growth choices as a way to change the world for the better.
“From birth to age 2 infants are becoming acquainted with their world. Developmental psychologists contend that the child’s basic task in the first year of life is to develop a sense of trust in self, others, and the environment. Infants need to count on others; they need to sense that they are cared for and that the world is a secure place”. May be this is why I have at least two memories of prior age 2, one of them being pre-linguistic (I was not talking yet in one of them, I actually remembered the phonemes, now I don’t remember them, but I remember what happened: they took my blanket and throw it away), arpund 9-10 months old, when I began to walk. I know it because I remember myself in the trash can, the height, me trying to stand and take the blanket from the wood trash can (the wood cabinet was open). I remember that because I felt insecure and unsafe? Never thought it before. The other very early memory I have is running my trycicle very fast and it broke, and I got a very hard hit. That happened around age two or less. It was in a third floor, in a very large corridor around the house. The other early infancy memories I have are after those, I think. I do remember hurricane Hugo, they let me go out to the balcony. I also remember being taken away from a flood, but now I don’t trust what my progenitors said about that memory. The mirrow issue also was a problem.
“Attachment involves an emotional bonding with another who is perceived as a source of security”. A true problem for me, since very early age, was that I didn’t “feel like mommy or daddy (no me siento que soy como mamá ni como papá)”. I verbalized this since very early, having no idea of why. In third grade I went further “mommy and daddy don’t love me”. I was so severely reprimanded for saying that that I learned to hide my feelings. The problem of not seen myself neither as mom nor as dad persisted through life, and now that I know what I know I am proud of myself for that… but the fact is I never had attachments to any of them. I did had attachments to my teachers, that is for sure, but never to them. I also had an early attachment to the Eucharist: I do remember saying very early to my progenitor “Jerusalem is in heaven”, as we were going out from the parish (San Martín) contemplating the Eucharist. My progenitor mocked me cruelly: Jerusalem is not in heaven. At that early age, the moves were already being done (I was about six, five, no later than seven years at most).
“A sense of being loved during infancy is the best safeguard against fear, insecurity, and inadecuacy. Children who receive love from parents or other attachment figures generally have little difficulty accepting themselves, whereas children who feel unloved and rejected may find it very difficult to accept themselves. In addition, rejected children learn to mistrust the world and to view it primarily in terms of its ability to do them harm” Yes, people, this is true. During years I cried because I was the rare, always the rare. I resolved this in adulthood, but yes, the rejection of your parents, even if it is a covert rejection and the child is not exactly concious of it, does do harm to a child. It can be healed, of course. What happens in our infancy doesn’t need to define who we are as adults, if we become conscious of what happened and what to do to not repeat the harmful patterns of the infancy and childhood.
“Am I able to trust others? Myself?” Yes
“Am I willing to make myself known to a few selected people in my life?” That is not an option for me right now. There is no privacy possible.
“Do I basically accept myself as being OK, or do I seek confirmation outside of myself?” Excuse me, I am not OK, I am awesome, Jesus Charity says. He is my validation.
“How far will I go in my attempt to be liked? Do I need to be liked and approved by everyone?” For me, its rare to be liked, but I only need to be liked by Jesus.
“Am I in any way like Sally? Do I know of anyone who had experiences similar to hers?” No, I am not like her, I don’t feel like a child, I am a grown woman (as the Phil Collins’s song says: “I am a man [that I sing as “I am His”]). I am sorry for people like her.
“How much do I really know about my early years? What have I heard from my parents and extended famiky about my infancy and early childhood?” My progenitors have gone to the extend of faking an ultrasound of mine. I can’t trust anything what they said to me, including the story of my birth… but I do have infancy memories of my own.
“How was love expressed in my family?” In terms of interests. That always called my attention. Example: if I was given a gift, it was not exactly the toy I asked, but clothes or practical gifts. I was given what I hated, and forced to accept everything. This was this way even as adult with the gifts given as Christmas gifts by my aunts. Love was always somethign that depended on how convenient was what you were doing to their purposes. My parents never said me “I love you”, not even once, during infancy and childhood or adolescence. The most similar thing they have told, my female progenitor, was while I was taken away in a forced hospitalization: we do this for love (hacemos esto por amor). There was also a gesture that I still remember: after the operation I had at seventeen I had severe chest pain and trouble breating. I believed I was going to die because they did nothing and I was barely able to keep breathing due pain (in the hospital, they called it hiperventilation, a possible secondary effect reaction from anesthesia, but the nurse believed I was faking it… now we know it was something more creepy). My progenitors, when they finally did something, didn’t called an ambulance, they took me themselves to the ER. My progenitor female took my hand, but what she was really doing, now I know, was mimicking my guardian angel. I sweared to myseld I wouldn’t let them care for me, never, after that. They waited about eight hours of breathing struggle and chest pain to take me to the ER. No one understood love as I did: as unconditional. That was why I was so easily abused, because I was predisposed to love everyone unconditionally. Another example of how love was understood as interest is that you were more loved if you cleaned more, even when you were concious you were too young to do certain chores.
“We cannot change in a positive direction unless we stop blamming others for the way we are now”. I agree. I can blame them for the way I exist now, as a slave, but I absolutely don’t blame them for the way I AM now.
As I said in the previous blog post, I am loving this book.
Here are the scales of this section of the book.
PD: This was the blood oxigenation test I made after finishing this blogpost. I had a light headache while writing most of this.
That is how much they love me ❤️❤️❤️ The proportion of their “love” is the proportion of my blood oxigenation. They are not killing me, they are simply depriving me of oxygen. 🙃 By the way, my blood oxygenation in this house or in the cars had been as low as 82.
You are forgiven. No hate land here!
Now, imagine me tomorrow in the nurse screening of the endocrinologist, showing this picture.
Imagine them saying “its asthma”. That is what they are going to do, even if I explain them: it only happens inside the room.
Bullshit, people. You, medical professionals, have deliberately choosen through all these years not acting upon clear medical evidence of abuse. All doctors have done the same, eventually.
I am so tired of lies… and I won’t engage in more lies.
So, no medical care for me. 🙃
A final comment, while I hear the song “Truly, madly, deeply” as if Jesus Charity is singing with me…
As you may noticed, I shutted down my social media apps completely. Right now I stopped using Twitter, Instagram and Facebook completely. I have certain access to You Tube for professional uses, or if the progenitors force me to use music to go to take the forced pills without hearing what they are talking/hearing. My only current notifications are emails, for professional purposes. I am not even seeing news.
I simly got tired of begging: please, stop the grammar mistake game. Or please, stop the add game. Or please, stop the false proyection game or any other kind of mind game.
Guess what? I feel a lot less exploited without social media. Really. It can be something very gruesome to say, considering the social exploitation and social slavery I am subject from my progenitors… but I literally begged social media to stop playing with me and exploiting me handpicking content for my social media. I was unheard. Completely unheard.
According to my notion of being a charity influencer, you influence people to become the best person they can be as they live charity… and I don’t think the use of social media I was doing (forcedly: I had no other choice than tolerate the social media exploitation) was compatible with that, nor with evangelizing, my main purpose when socializing.
I think people should be able to reflect about their use of social media and don’t let themselves be moved by thrist of fame or power of influencing. I am very happy influencing only my students, even if they don’t know I am imfluencing them. I do it doing the best job I can. Influencing is not reaching many, is reaching everyone you can for the better, helping to grow in more communion, helping everyone you can reach to become the best person they can be. If I can only reach my students, with no use of social media, well, great.
We should reflect about our use of social media… and if it is cause of social slavery and social exploitation, being able to stop its use until the proper corrections are made.
And because I know the corrections won’t be made… my use of social media, all of them, is right now extremely low, no matter if that means loosing all social contact.
Of course, this means extra time to write blog posts…
(I still had the light headache while writting all that. The dog vomited).
He also made a very strange poop, covered in a thick mucus. It has happened to me also, but not right now. I should have notice that Poppy, the dog that is vomitating and making strange poop, is in the floor. It is a fact that the lower the altitude, the most damage toxic gasses do. I am trying to put him in the bed.
Besides all that, this is the temperature of the room right now. It is hot.
To give you an idea of how hot it is, this was the temperature when arriving at the room, with no air conditioner on during the whole day
This is all for now. Enjoy the blog post time! 🙂
PD 2: Its 10:53 pm now. I went to sleep about 8:00 pm, after going to the bathroom hourly since 3 pm. Right now blood oxygenation is 95%. I woke up due needing to go to make pee, but I felt vertigo while getting up, besides headache. I also had small tremors along the body. As I said, my heart is no hate land. I forgive and keep sleeping and dreaming, oxigen deprived… but this is the definition of parental love here: control and torture. I left the bed for a second, for a very brief moment, and right now the vertigo and the frontal headache are very strong.