I was reading things on the Internet and it was depressing me. Depressing me because I look at the people writing these things and see them as successful at whatever they are doing while I feel like a failure at what I do.
I am going to try something new tonight as far as posting here. That is to write and post what I wrote. Change from the past where I would only post when I completed a post. Which sometimes never happens with an idea for a post. The reason behind that is the fact that the struggle I go through writing especially about myself tires me out and I find that I cannot finish.
I thought the reason why it was struggle is that it is hard to express myself in words. I think that is part of the reason. The other reason it is struggle is that reflects the inner struggle inside me. The part of me that does what to express itself against another part that wants to keep quiet.
Being quiet and not expressing myself is not who I am. It is something I learned growing up. My birth family was not all that talkative. They where talkative when there was something to talk about that would inflate their ego or people’s opinion of them. When I was a child there was not a lot to be proud about. It was only when I was away from the influence of my birth family that I realized that it was alright to talk about what we are feeling and what is going on.
But I also learned that it was easier to be quiet about what was really going on in my life and why. No one wanted to believe what my father had become and how he was treating me. No my father was a good person and I was making it up to cover up my problems. I am just going to stop there. There is a lot that comes to the surface when I think about that. In the end though, it was easier to keep quiet about my problems than listen to another person deny what is going on with me.
But times have changed. In a glacier moving kind of way, but now I find myself accepting myself more but also with people accepting of who I am good and bad. I no longer feel the need to keep quiet about myself and what I am going through. If anything it is helpful to let people know what is happening with me.
But that experience and memories are still a part of me. They fight against me wanting to open up about myself. That is why I struggle to write posts in this blog at times. Even if I do finish a post, I find myself trashing what I wrote.
Instead of fighting against that and forcing myself to post something. I will just write until it becomes too much or what I feel comfortable at the moment writing. But most of all write for myself.
That is other part of the struggle and why I felt I need to do what I did with this blog. If I know people are reading this blog through comments, likes and following then that part of me that wants to be quiet will win again. But if I don’t know if anyone is reading or their thoughts about what I wrote then as far as I am concerned I am writing for myself. That I don’t have that part of me that wants to keep quiet gaining strength because their is no need to be quiet when I am talking to myself. If that makes sense. Well at least to me it makes sense.
Anyway we will see how that works out. I do what to want to write and express myself especially about my experiences in childhood and as a young adult. Just have to find a way that works for me.
Over the last couple of days, several ideas have come to my mind to write about here. The only problem is I haven’t thought about them enough or not ready to write about them.
Usually what happens is that when I am in the mood to write, I forget about all these to wonderful ideas I had for posts. This time around, I am just going to write the ideas down along with a few sentences as a description about the idea. That way when I am in the mood to write I can go back to this post and pick one to write. I will add ideas as they come to me in this post:
- Not Who I Am: While I growing up, I thought I had to be something that I am not in order to survive. Over time it became a habit that was hard to break.s
- The Voices: About a video I saw about anxiety. How anxiety became something that crippled me as a person when I was a younger. How came to grips with my anxiety. That is still there but no longer keeps me from functioning as a person.
- The Introverted Extrovert: About how people in IRL often see me as a shy and withdrawn person but like my sex that is not who I am. That when I was younger it was necessary to be that way. Now it is something I choose to be for most people.
Doesn’t necessarily mean I will write abut the ideas that I post here. Just things I am considering to write about.
One of things I have been doing over the past few years is bring memories that I have suppressed back to the surface. It was very hard at first. I didn’t want to deal with those memories. There was a reason why when looking back at my life there are blanks. But if I am going to stay true to accepting myself then I have to accept those parts of my life that I don’t want to think about again.
It is not necessarily the memories of the abuse that are suppressed, but parts of my life which ended up in disaster or I failed myself in some way. It is hard to bring those experiences back to the surface and deal with my failures and times when I was a coward. I like to think about myself as a person that succeeds in life and is a strong person. But I am a human being.
A human being that at times will fail and is weak. I have to accept that and live with it. That means no longer allowing myself to suppress those memories. But instead of being judgmental of myself in a negative way, learn from those experiences and reflect on how I could have done it better or just accept that there was nothing that I could have done. Sometimes shit just happens no matter what I do.
With that attitude, I have been able to bring most of my memories back to the surface, but there is one point of my life that is hard to bring to the surface. That was the time of my life when I was five to eight years old. There are just quick flashes when I try to think back to that time of my life. The time of my life when I was sexually abuse by my father.
From those quick flashes of memory, I have an idea what happen, but a lot of the detail is missing. But when I think about it, there is a lot more than just what happen to me.
I had to pause here and come back to writing this post. Thinking like that brought a lot of things and some them very painful. But also how much of that I should write about in this post. I decided that I would write about how it affected deep down. Other things I might talk about in other posts. But for now lets keep it short and sweet.
To understand how it affected me deep down, I think some context is in order. At that young age, I didn’t have a lot of people in my life outside my family that I could look as role models or examples. What I did have in the way of my family scared the shit out of me. Here was a father that loved me dearly who changed into this monster that abused his own kid on so many levels. A mother who would rather live in denial about what was going on than face the fact her husband was doing this to her kid. That other people in my family often instead of helping or trying to understand why I acted the way I did, just blame me for what was going on. That I spent my childhood trying to deal with what happen to me. But most of all it made me question myself.
Having only those examples, I did wonder if I could become like them. That as a parent, circumstances would put me in a position that I would abuse my own kid like my father. That maybe I would be in denial about what was happening to my children and let them suffer by doing nothing about it. It could be the case that it would never come about, but I wasn’t going to let my children go through the same thing I did. That the only way to make sure that didn’t happen was not have my own children. Better to be safe than sorry. Which put me at odds with myself, because I really did want to have children. But I couldn’t trust myself not to be like my father.
This caused a lot of problems in my life. But regardless of them, that was something that was not going to change for a long time. As life went on, I found examples of people who dealt with life changing circumstances in a better way than my father. That stood up for their kids despite the consquences because their safety meant more to them than anything else. That I could be a good parent to my children and not follow the lead of my father or the rest of my family. That my children could grow up with love and support to be the person they are inside. But by the time I realize that, I was on a path that would not allow me to have children anyway and I wasn’t going to upset things to fulfill my desire to have children.
In some ways, I hated myself when I realized the truth. That I gave up the one thing I really wanted in life. But it is easy to look back at decisions we made in the past with the knowledge we have know and be critical of ourselves. But we have to look at them with what we knew at the time to be fair to ourselves. If anything I look back at the decision of not having children not as a stupid decision, but that I showed courage and wasn’t be selfish. I had reason to worry that I could be like my father and that was the right decision at the time. So yes in some ways I do regret not having children, but in much stronger ways I am glad that I didn’t.
If anything being abused like that helped me accept something about me later on in life. That is being transgender. One thing that bothered me greatly when accepting being transgender was being male and not being able to pregnant and give birth to my own children. All other things didn’t matter to me except that. But even if I was born female and everything else being the same, I still wouldn’t have children. I would reach the same conclusion. Maybe how things played out would be different, but the end result would be the same. So having a male body is no longer a big deal to me.
I still have fantasies that I grew up with a father that decided to eat his lunch somewhere else that day. That the chain of events that started with where he had his lunch never happen. That I grew up with a father and family that loved and supported me. That I had children of my own that I love and supported just like my parents. It is nice to indulge myself once in a while in that role play in my head. But it means more where I am at now.
That despite the problems in my life, I managed to find a way in life to be happy and glad to be alive. The same thing, I imagine other people are trying to find. That I am lucky in a way to reach that point in my life despite how long it took to me to find that path. Some people never do find that and spend their life bitter and angry. As the old saying goes “Better late than never”. For that reason I cherish and grateful for what I have in life now, instead of being selfish that life didn’t turn out to my ideal of it.