True Self
January 6th, 2025
I can't believe it's 2025 already. I will be twenty-five this July.
I was a completely different person when I landed in Houston for the holidays. Two weeks later, I am dissociated, battered, weary, and tired of life again.
It felt as if I were bipolar, or something of that sort. For some reason I felt self-actualized when I first landed, like I could express who I was first and foremost without challenge.
I realize, I have an enmeshed mother. It's shameful to admit it, but it's the truth. My mother smothered me with "love," and by smothering me I couldn't breathe. And by not breathing, my soul died.
"Enmeshment trauma" is the correct word choice for what I'm experiencing. I have to negotiate with my mother about boundaries. It's not going to be pretty. She's going to guilt, scream, and yell. It's going to be scary.
When I was a boy and did these things, negotiating that is, it usually meant getting my hair pulled and my head bashed into the wall. Now that I'm older, I'm sure this will not be the case as I am now too large, but the fear is still baked in my nerves.
I am still responsible for these feelings. I recognize them now. Even if I feel these things, I am responsible for responding properly. Even though my thoughts completely betray how I should think, and my feelings betray how I should feel, I should always resort to communicating my needs.
That is, if I can still feel my needs...
My Needs
It's actually not that I don't know what I want, it's that I don't want to know what I want. That I feel guilty having needs. That I feel ashamed that I want certain things and don't want to do certain things.
That's right actually. I know exactly what I want to do. Why is it that I feel so ashamed that I have desires and wants and needs?
Taking Responsibility
Sometimes I let "fault" get ahold of me. Sure, it's not my fault I feel this way, but I sure am responsible. I like thinking of it like the baby at the doorstep metaphor. Someone's left a baby at your doorstep, and sure, it's not your fault that the baby is there and nobody is there to take care of it. But hell, it sure is your responsibility now, and you have to step up to the plate.
I wish there were someone telling me to tak responsibility for me own feelings and emotions and wants and needs and yada yada. But it sure as hell is my responsibility now.
I'm going to start organizing my life aggressively, and I'm going to start cultivating healthy boundaries assertively. Whether I go camping, or whether I join a sports club, or whether I join a church organization or a volunteer organization.