Old Wounds
06 Sep 2010 1 Comment
Sometimes old wounds never die. They lay, dormant, in your mind. Until something triggers them, and you feel it all over again, plus feeling whatever event triggered the old wound to fester.
Sometimes mistakes made at a younger age are never really atoned for. Why? Because in their eyes, you’ve failed, and will continue to do so. No matter what.
We Have A Map of the Piano
31 Aug 2010 5 Comments
in writing Tags: life, plans, writing
You can’t map out your life. You can’t plan it like a road trip.
If you try and plan how your life is going to go, you only end up with disappointment. Nothing in life ever goes according to plan. How can you possibly plan what age you’re going to get married? Have kids? Start “living the dream”?
Life happens. Perhaps it’s fate. Perhaps you choose your path based on your decisions. Maybe the future is fluid and constantly changing based on the things you choose. Or maybe it’s only the illusion of choice.
Either way, trying to plan your life is foolish. It never works out.
Truth of the Past
30 Aug 2010 2 Comments
in writing Tags: abuse, depression, writing
It’s in a place that’s locked from within. Protected. Truth.
When did I try to pretend? Why?
My family hides behind locked doors. Their pain is kept secret. If it’s secret, it doesn’t exist. Right?
Is that where I get it from? When I was in 6th grade, I told my dad I thought I was depressed. He scoffed at me. What does a kid have to be depressed about? For that year and every year afterword, I was in close contact with every school counselor at each school I went to. Maybe. Just maybe… if what had happened to me had been caught back then, it wouldn’t have been so bad later in life. Instead, things got twisted and muddled and so very painful, doing it all on my own. Discovering my past and the truth of it all. Digging into our skeletons is frightening, but I think it’s required in order to truly survive. We must accept the past as true in order to move on.
I haven’t accepted it. Not truly. And it’s something I must do, so I don’t become lost like my family has. So that I can still chase my dreams. So that I can live.
Morality and the Like
26 Aug 2010 2 Comments
in writing Tags: abuse, blogging, morality, theology, writing
Hopefully, we all have a sense of morality. A lot of what people find morally acceptable comes from the law. The law, in turn, came mostly from religion. Different countries have different laws for a reason. Different religions are practiced. Something that is legal is more than likely because it is in their religion.
So, if you don’t have a religion, how do you know what’s moral and what’s not? Where do your beliefs of morality come from?
I grew up without religion in the house. How did I establish what’s right and what’s wrong? To this day, I am unsure. These days, I go largely based on how I feel in my heart. I think it’s wrong to hit your kids. I think it’s wrong to verbally abuse anyone. I could go on and on describing my beliefs in right and wrong. I’ll probably blog about them as they become relevant.
Today I want to talk about verbal abuse. It’s something that’s been a part of my entire life. When someone is continuously cruel to you, it takes a toll on your psyche. It’s like being brainwashed. You start to believe in these terrible things people are telling you. If someone told you every single day for an amount of time that you were fat even though you are 5’5″ and weigh 100 pounds, you would start to believe it. Most of us know that someone at that height and weight is too thin. But that doesn’t matter. You start to see fat where there is none, if you’re told every day.
It’s the same concept if someone continuously tells you that you are worth nothing. Anything bad about yourself that’s repeated frequently, whether it’s true or not, takes a toll on you. For this reason, I think the punishments for verbally abusive parents isn’t enough. Emotional scarring lasts longer than physical scarring, and yet, society mainly focuses on physical abuse. Tabitha was beaten by her dad, that is just terrible. Emily is verbally assaulted daily. Nothing. Silence. Just because the abused wears no bruises, doesn’t mean the child is of sound body and mind.
With verbal abuse, it’s easier to control the child. You can tell them things, and they will believe them because they are innocent and naive. I finished reading The Weight of Silence. The reason the little girl stopped speaking? Her father pushed her pregnant mother down the stairs one day. The girl started screaming. The father kept telling her to shut up. Finally, he whispered in her ear that if she didn’t shut up, her mother and the baby would die. He repeated this several times. The baby died, but the mother was fine. And the little girl never said another word, at least until 4 years later.
Yes, verbal abuse is wrong. And too many people pass it by.
The Weight Of Silence
21 Aug 2010 3 Comments
in writing Tags: adventure, blogging, journey, life
I want this blog to be different than the one I’ve had for the last 6 1/2 years.
I’ve started other blogs on other websites in the last years, but I’ve never kept up with them. Here, I want to explore my thoughts in a deeper way. I want to find my beliefs. This isn’t a place for my creative writing, or my daily trials and tribulations.
When I started this earlier today, I tried using the name crazy2love, the name I have on a different blog, on a different website. Thankfully, the name was taken. I realized that that name would not fit this blog at all. I sat here, in my black microsuede chair with a footstool, listening to I Dare You by Shinedown, pondering what name I shall choose. I had a hard time with this. Afadedmemory, which I’ve also used before, would not work here either. I no longer want to be forgotten. Rather, I want to be heard.
I looked around and saw my Fantasy Football magazines lying on the floor. Cosmo not that far away. Video games lined up under my TV. Then I glanced on my bed, and saw the book I had purchased this morning. It was called, The Weight of Silence, by Heather Gudenkauf. I had not yet started reading it, but from the description on the back, it’s about a little girl who goes through some terrible event, and she does not speak for years. Then at the age of 7, she’s kidnapped. From the description, I’m guessing that throughout the book, we learn why the girl does not talk.
I saw this book, and it was like fate. It was perfect, because it described exactly what I’m striving for here. Silence can feel very heavy, I’ve learned. When you keep things inside of yourself, you feel burdened and weighed down. It tightens your shoulders, and you feel like you have an elephant on your back. I’m going to get rid of this elephant. I don’t want it anymore. I’m going to speak what’s on my mind, honestly, and with integrity. I’m going to find the truths, and lay them bare.
Life is a journey, and I’m only continuing it.
