Well, they aren’t difficult for me. I’ve always been the type to point out elephants in the room. Well, I’ve been able to SEE the elephants. Overall I kept quiet about those elephants out of fear of being ridiculed – because growing up, when my mouth got ahead of my brain – I was ridiculed – often in front of family gatherings. Which explains why I stopped participating in all of that long ago.
Why was it ok to judge people who smoked cannabis while those same people tossed back glasses of wine and alcohol? And sometimes drove while drinking?
Why was it ok to laugh at the next-door neighbor kids for living in poverty by those who had so many red flag behaviors and unseen, hidden horrors happening in their own home? They really believed their money gave them special privileges. I always hated that growing up.
Why was it ok to ignore the family member who was being beaten by her spouse as “none of my business”? When I said “it sure as hell IS our business,” I got the “shush” treatment. We don’t talk about that.
Why was it ok to poke fun at those wanting to change their life by seeing a counselor?
I remember the day I received a card telling me how much my family loved me, how much support I had when life got hard. I remember the time when I realized this was a crock of shit. A lie.
How can people do this to members of their own family?
I’m absolutely done hearing “family is everything”.
No, it is not. Sometimes it is the absolute worst place for you. And those who did not experience this are very blessed to have that support system. Without it, life is f’ing scary. Especially if you’re already highly sensitive and struggle to be in a world that operates on a completely different system than the needs of your own.
I struggle. I get the judgment and the blame – the advice that is utterly useless to me – and I see behind the words. I see the people behind them and their lives. They have or had families. Wonderful parents. Siblings. Even friends. Some of us simply did not have that no matter how. many. efforts. we made to the contrary. Shit, my friend attempts here in my personal life are – just – UGH – I don’t want to try – at all – ATM. I show one little regard for Trump?
I’m ostracized.
I make one comment about that odd trail in the sky, and suddenly I’m the neighborhood freak.
I make changes in my life as a young adult.
Good-bye “lifelong” friends.
I am open and honest. I do emotions. Because, you know, I’m human. I do my best to create safe spaces for people just to BE. And that scares people, apparently, because they vanish. Shit, even one person who I really thought was a friend told me she would call me – no matter what time of the day or night – because I was so good at holding space. She vanished when I questioned why she was not keeping her word with me over one damn situation. Just one damn thing. POOF.
I f’ing show up. And I thought others would do the same.
Not all will.
Are they human?
Where am I now?
Today.
I see people on the streets, and I pretend I’m invisible.
I just cannot. take. one. more. disappointment.
My body can’t.
It’s a strange experience for me. A new phenomenon. I was born sociable. Loving people. Talkative. Sweet. I befriended more new students than I can count. Each and every one used me to gain recognition than POOF off they went with the popular crowd.
This world has kicked my ass since I entered. And my body is letting me know she is not interested in one more rejection or one more g.d. disappointment.
Blame the victim.
I’m sensitive – to everything now.
Change.
Weather.
The ongoing pressure of having to make up my f’ing mind where I am going to live is literally slowly threatening to crush me.
I. don’t. know.
No matter what f’ing tool I employ or what I tell myself, that pressure is always. there.
It’s not just due to trauma – it’s due to how I was wired. What I experienced growing up. I was not safe. I had little consistency and absolutely no control. My emotions were not considered relevant. I was the background one in the corner, especially at gatherings.
And if someone was harming me, I took the blame for it. Getting bullied in school? My fault. Struggling to get good grades, no matter how hard I studied? My fault. By the time I was a sophomore, I began to develop a real disdain for school. My only source of control was to cut class. Which I did. Frequently. I also learned how to mark myself present when the attendance nazi’s came around collecting their little lists of “who showed up and who didn’t”.
By the time I was in my early 20’s, I began having panic attacks. I stayed in situations I otherwise would not have wanted to be in, because no one had my back and I was too damn afraid to go it alone. This world out there has always – ALWAYS – frightened me. You know that song with the lyrics: there are vultures and thieves at your back.
We know this. Even if those vultures and thieves do not show up as real people in your life, the very nature of this reality traumatizes you. Repeatedly. Slowly. Some people are more resilient. Some have support systems. People who have their backs. With love. Consistently. That makes traversing this reality a lot easier. If such support is missing, the world feels far scarier.
I am seeing people on the right who claim to be know-it-alls go after those they call “snowflakes” who need safe spaces.
WE ALL NEED SAFE SPACES.
It is science. Neurobiology.
And yet I also wonder – do the bullies need safe spaces? Or do they create the illusion of a safe space for themselves by being a bully, which is how this entire reality operates? Those with the most. Control and power over. BULLY ENERGY. BULLY BEHAVIOR.
I was going to say such people fail to see the humanity in us all. And yet I have come to this conclusion – a conclusion I still have yet to allow in 100% – but it’s all I have given my experiences: there are some who are not human.
Some who do not have a Soul.
For those with a Soul, even if they engage in bully behavior, they SEE their behavior because they FEEL that sense of wrong within.
Those who claim they are better than or somehow stronger and better off because of childhoods where they were ignored. Made them tough.
Tough is not strong.
It takes a lot of strength to share the words I do today. It took me over two decades to be able to do that – consistently.
You can only pretend so long. Sometimes it feels like a paradox – I was never good at pretending. And yet sometimes I wish I had mastered the art of pretending. Would have made my experience here easier.
But those who carry the Truth within – the gift of vision – of sensing – and feeling – we don’t have it easy. We aren’t here to go along. We are here to break down this entire f’ing toxic reality.
Difficult truths ahead, says Q.
Knowing who is deserving of your trust and who isn’t, based on whether they have a Soul or even want TO acknowledge their Soul, is one of the most ominous ones.
💖
Victoria
