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dolariAnother Uncle and his daughter came to visit...and I was relegated to entertaining my cousins, again. Universally ignored, even when trying o make nice with the family. You know, I'm 27 years old...when do I get to sit at the Big Kids Table?
Thank the gods Steph called for a nice talk...although it seems we only talk whenever she has some sort of dental surgery. We're goin to try and get together sometime Friday. I'm also working to try and get to Austin next week. I need to get away from here.
One of the first things my therapist tried to "fix" in me was the idea that I was Wrong.
Not wrong as in "in error." You've heard of the phrase Evil Incarnate? Well, I was Wrong Incarnate.
I had, for the longest time, felt Wrong physically...ever since I was little kid. Puberty made that feeling worse as my body pished, prodded and basically made me even more awkward. Looking back on it, though, puberty wasn't anything harder than anyone else was going through...but there was that overarching feeling of Wrongness that was sitting on top of my head.
All my life, I've been told I wrong by my mother, relentlessly and viciously. I did very little right in her eyes. Little girls didn't do X. Little girls didn't do Y. Little girls didn't do Z. She'd often ask my advice or comments on something or other, then dismiss them out of hand with a bit of handwaving and a "Well, you're just not intelligent enough to appreciate this."
I began to poison my own mind with that kind of thinking. That I was Wrong Incarnate. I aimed low, and felt lower. I failed school miserably from about sixth grade on. All the while, my father got mad at me for failing so badly, and my mother waved it off with "If that's what you do, that's what you do."
I was ranked #465 out of 565 when I graduated. And trust me, I barely graduated at all (August graduate) and the feeling of Wron Incarnate followed me beyond. I went to work for a jerk, because I was happy he'd hire me at all. I went to college, then abandonned that because I was convinced I couldn't do it. I gave up on drawing and writing because twenty four comic companies cannot all be wrong when they tell you "You dont have the talent." When I lost he Jerk-boss job, and I failed out of college and I was at my lowest I attempted suicide. I failed at that, too. OF course I did. I was Wrong Incarnate.
I moved in with Geri who built up my self confidence and introduced the idea that maybe...just maybe...my mother was wrong and I had a lot to offer. It took many month with Geri to get me on the right track.
But I was still Wrong Incarnate. I set my sights very low, yet again, and worked on a career in newspaper delivery. It was a fun job, where I could be away from people (I had become an complete recluse by now so that my Wrongness wouldn't affect my friends or family).
And I lost that job. I remember thinking that if I ever lost that job, I couldn't go any lower...and was a waste of amino acids. I began to think badly...making strange connecions...seeing conspiracies against me at every turn. I even believed that God himself was playing with my fate, just to for fun. My thinking was tainted. I was Wrong Incarnate.
I ran away to Pennsylvania. By that time Deener and I had met, and he offered me a place to live, away from everything. And my head cleared. There were times when I relapsed, and while I began to work with my therapist through thinking I was Wrong Incarnate, there was always the thought that I was God's Plaything.
That line of thinking was still holding me back though...making me aim lower than I should have...and that's when I became an athiest...not out of belief, but out of self-defense.
Life took a definate upswing in 2000. I had finally gelled with Pennsylvania Folk. I was happy with Deener. I had a good job. I was workign my way through my problems.
And then it all collapsed...and now I'm noticing the old thinking coming back. Seeing my mother do anythin she can to make me feel inferior. Manipulating circumstances so that I'm increasingly isolated. A choice word here, an action there. It's turning into 1992 all over again.
I talked with Steph today. She has always been a stable and guiding light, and was one of the first people to convince me that I wasn't Wrong Incarnate, or that God wasn't out to get me (jury is still out on that one), or that my parents were conspiring against me. Today she and I were talking about our lives and she came out and told me that she noticed how things have gone in the recent past. And has told me that she sees that too much has happened to me too quickly for it to be a coincidence. She sees a larger hand in all this, and so do I.
I don' tknow whose hand, but if SHE sees it, it's most likely there.
I have an idea who it is...but she has everything she could have gotten from me. Why would she continue this?
I need to get back on my pills. This mood is corrupting my soul.
Thank the gods Steph called for a nice talk...although it seems we only talk whenever she has some sort of dental surgery. We're goin to try and get together sometime Friday. I'm also working to try and get to Austin next week. I need to get away from here.
One of the first things my therapist tried to "fix" in me was the idea that I was Wrong.
Not wrong as in "in error." You've heard of the phrase Evil Incarnate? Well, I was Wrong Incarnate.
I had, for the longest time, felt Wrong physically...ever since I was little kid. Puberty made that feeling worse as my body pished, prodded and basically made me even more awkward. Looking back on it, though, puberty wasn't anything harder than anyone else was going through...but there was that overarching feeling of Wrongness that was sitting on top of my head.
All my life, I've been told I wrong by my mother, relentlessly and viciously. I did very little right in her eyes. Little girls didn't do X. Little girls didn't do Y. Little girls didn't do Z. She'd often ask my advice or comments on something or other, then dismiss them out of hand with a bit of handwaving and a "Well, you're just not intelligent enough to appreciate this."
I began to poison my own mind with that kind of thinking. That I was Wrong Incarnate. I aimed low, and felt lower. I failed school miserably from about sixth grade on. All the while, my father got mad at me for failing so badly, and my mother waved it off with "If that's what you do, that's what you do."
I was ranked #465 out of 565 when I graduated. And trust me, I barely graduated at all (August graduate) and the feeling of Wron Incarnate followed me beyond. I went to work for a jerk, because I was happy he'd hire me at all. I went to college, then abandonned that because I was convinced I couldn't do it. I gave up on drawing and writing because twenty four comic companies cannot all be wrong when they tell you "You dont have the talent." When I lost he Jerk-boss job, and I failed out of college and I was at my lowest I attempted suicide. I failed at that, too. OF course I did. I was Wrong Incarnate.
I moved in with Geri who built up my self confidence and introduced the idea that maybe...just maybe...my mother was wrong and I had a lot to offer. It took many month with Geri to get me on the right track.
But I was still Wrong Incarnate. I set my sights very low, yet again, and worked on a career in newspaper delivery. It was a fun job, where I could be away from people (I had become an complete recluse by now so that my Wrongness wouldn't affect my friends or family).
And I lost that job. I remember thinking that if I ever lost that job, I couldn't go any lower...and was a waste of amino acids. I began to think badly...making strange connecions...seeing conspiracies against me at every turn. I even believed that God himself was playing with my fate, just to for fun. My thinking was tainted. I was Wrong Incarnate.
I ran away to Pennsylvania. By that time Deener and I had met, and he offered me a place to live, away from everything. And my head cleared. There were times when I relapsed, and while I began to work with my therapist through thinking I was Wrong Incarnate, there was always the thought that I was God's Plaything.
That line of thinking was still holding me back though...making me aim lower than I should have...and that's when I became an athiest...not out of belief, but out of self-defense.
Life took a definate upswing in 2000. I had finally gelled with Pennsylvania Folk. I was happy with Deener. I had a good job. I was workign my way through my problems.
And then it all collapsed...and now I'm noticing the old thinking coming back. Seeing my mother do anythin she can to make me feel inferior. Manipulating circumstances so that I'm increasingly isolated. A choice word here, an action there. It's turning into 1992 all over again.
I talked with Steph today. She has always been a stable and guiding light, and was one of the first people to convince me that I wasn't Wrong Incarnate, or that God wasn't out to get me (jury is still out on that one), or that my parents were conspiring against me. Today she and I were talking about our lives and she came out and told me that she noticed how things have gone in the recent past. And has told me that she sees that too much has happened to me too quickly for it to be a coincidence. She sees a larger hand in all this, and so do I.
I don' tknow whose hand, but if SHE sees it, it's most likely there.
I have an idea who it is...but she has everything she could have gotten from me. Why would she continue this?
I need to get back on my pills. This mood is corrupting my soul.
