Monday, March 2, 2015

Okay, Doctor, I was talking to my friend...

So let's say, for the sake of argument, that my childhood involved a parent with borderline personality disorder...  something like that.  Mild form.  Fear of abandonment, irrational reactions, 'I'm a bad person...'  No one's fault, just that's how it goes.  The child develops coping mechanisms.  Maybe a kind of patiently letting the episode play itself out, keep a this-is-normal face on.

But the world doesn't simply operate, it won't give you the things you need, if you just cope, passive, everyone get along, I can talk to everybody...  I threw my entire coping mechanism into the thing with the girl back in college, and just coping isn't positive enough, it isn't active enough, it doesn't really do it.  She would be waiting for me to come through and I didn't know how to do it, except in very faint subtle ways that weren't enough for her.

So then you realize everything, like what you should have done, too late.

And that's how you start out in life, by being the great martyr to coping, to everyone getting along, but not very able to stand up for what you want out of life, to go ask for it.  So you end up in sort of open codependent relationships.  Mr. Nice-guy.

That's a painful realization, to come upon, half-way through life.  It's frightening.  You've lived your whole life in such a way...  Now what?  Where do you change?  What do you want out of life, after politely going along with everything, the peacemaker?  How do you stand up for yourself?  Making everyone happy except yourself.

You really don't even want to see it.  The damage.  Don't rationalize it, making it into high Christianity, it's just human cowardly psychologically stuck behavior.

And I guess that girl was the perfect thing for me to run-up against to make it all come out, to show my faults off, making them plainly visible.  A people pleasing escapist dreamer...  Yeah, she called me out on my shit.  That's what smart people do, that's what women do.  Yeah, good luck with that.

I guess that's why I've held onto it for so long.  The difference between feelings, knowing what you want, and what you end up with.  The great mystery of my fucked-up-ed-ness.  All my creativity I've thrown at it, that too just a coping mechanism.  Instead of facing my problems.

Yeah, all the higher consciousness Jesus Buddha stuff...  I mean, good for them, but it doesn't really do it down here on Earth.

My flawed modus operandi, everything's fine, sure...

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