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“Let everything happen to you: Beauty and terror. Just keep going. No feeling is final.”
— Rainer Maria Rilke, Go to the Limits of Your Longing
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What is Narcissism?
nar·cis·sism
/ˈnärsəˌsiz(ə)m/
noun
excessive interest in or admiration of oneself and one's physical appearance.
selfishness, involving a sense of entitlement, a lack of empathy, and a need for admiration, as characterizing a personality type.
PSYCHOANALYSISself-centeredness arising from failure to distinguish the self from external objects, either in very young babies or as a feature of mental disorder.
The word also derives from the Greek myth of Narcissus. A God whose standard was far too high for anyone to reach… that is, besides himself, of course. In Ovid’s Metamorphoses tale of Narcissus, a nymph named Echo fell tragically in love with Narcissus. When she advanced him, Narcissus did not comply. Heartbroken, Echo ran away into the woods, and for years her crying was heard from acres throughout the land, all until that was the only thing left of her. Echo's home-girl Nemesis(the goddess of reputation) heard of this, and cursed Narcissus to fall in love with his own reflection, ..since that was the only thing he ever paid attention to anyway. When Narcicuss was at the lake, flirting with his reflection, truth daunted on him that he could never actually have a physical relationship with himself… so he committed suicide… the big guy felt big lows.
Widely used as an insult on some of the most atrocious people. Perhaps even used to describe some of the people in your own life. Narcissism has been looked down on by society, and even deemed a mental illness for hundreds of years… and no one is safe. It has spread to the brains of every influencer who is obsessed over their looks. It could be your ex’s, or friends. Parents, relatives… it is noted as a horrible, and toxic connotation of selfishness and greed. For thousands of years, our communities have depended on each other to help one another improve as a whole . If you did not serve in your community, you were looked down upon, or even ignored completely. Even people who just thought differently were considered narcissists, all because they didn't help the community improve in the way the “officials” knew how. Soon, individual thinking became a rebellion because it was so taboo, and Individuality won free rein over the people. The era of supermodels, artists, and inventors were at the summit. Unfortunately, there was a plateau somewhere because the narcissists who branched out, and created a new world, soon created the narcissists who use “self care” and sexuality to earn more money for their already multi million dollar businesses. The ones who thought outside the box, not only paved the way for the dreamers, but also the manipulators who memorized the exact script used to get their way. They thought outside the mob, and observed for their own interest, without empathy. Now, notice how I used the word ‘narcissist’ both as a negative adjective, and a positive adjective…
I had a teacher tell me that “Narcissism is neither good, nor bad. It just depends on what you do with it.” Highly influential artists like Andy Warhol, Cleopatra, Eartha Kitt, and Davie Bowie were all considered narcissists, but look at how each of them created a new world for everyone who came after. They trusted their inner intuitive instincts, and removed themselves from the crowd for the better. They expressed themselves over, and over in deep interest in themselves, in order to learn about other people. Andy Warhol's art was for him to explore his own sexuality, which inspired many to explore, and to express their sexuality in their own way. Eartha Kitt was simply a confident woman who knew who she was, and what she wanted, and she was described as a narcissist. Cleopatra, highly intelligent, had an image she showed to her people in order to gain respect. David Bowie put on an image to make way for the free spirited. Each of these major, iconic historical figures thought selfishly, to believe selflessly.
Then there is the negative narcissist. The righteous one. The one with the mind of an artist and free soul, but with the sacral chakra of a dictator. The taker, the manipulator. The apathetic. This narcissist is smart, and aggressive, and a little bit of a sociopath. They use their image to control others, and to always grab the attention, and validation from any poor soul who happens to get near them. The fallen angels. The demons. The ones God said “no, no” about. This narcissist is empty, and although always filled with new, and fantastic ideas…each one is for the success of one party, but at a huge expense for another. The obsessed, the ones with temporary confidence, until they actually become who they boast about. A fraud. These remind me of politicians.. Some… some.
Now the teacher who taught my class and I about Narcissism, was our teacher who taught us about the cultural balinese performance of masks called Topeng, a tradition that dates back from 896 AD. Topeng tells stories that are hundreds of years old, played by the same characters, by the same people for decades. These actors are dedicated to their characters for life, as well as their own. It is an incredibly honored art, used in healing retreats across Indonesia to help unblock the subconsious. When the actor puts on a mask or tapel, they transform and take on the spirit of the character within the mask. The tapel, is charged by intentions. First, the mask is carved by an expert, and then for months after the actors training, and after countless mediations and ceremonies, they are allowed to put on the mask. When you start to move with the mask on, naturally, your body and psychology will adapt to the mask's spirit. You will see the world through the eyes of the character, even if you do not agree with them.
My first wild experience with the mask was a surprise. Our teacher handed us a velvet bag, each with our own archetypal mask inside. We were asked to stare at our bag, and to send the mask our energy and then to imagine that it was sending it back. Next, we were told to not look at the masks when taking it out, and to keep it face down when putting it over our face. None of us knew which mask we had on. We moved for an hour in the room, all crawling or jumping, or strutting. Yelling, or laughing, growling, or snarling.. Hey! It's an acting school, what do you expect?
Suddenly, I started to feel very strange. I looked around at everyone, and expected them all to be as well, but none were. Everyone was fighting, and the ones who were laughing, were the ones who pitted everyone else against each other. I noticed that two of my peers were pushing one another, arguing in babble. (You don't use words in masks when you interact with other characters.)
I approached them in distress, as if I were a stressed out mother wanting her sons to stop competing with one another. If you don't know this about me, I am naturally very timid due to my wretched anxiety. I tried to stop my peers from hurting one another, but I was too afraid to get in between. I became overwhelmed with all the hate around me, and I couldn't understand why there was so much of it. I didn't have the strength to stop it.The idea of any evil in this world began to frustrate me, and at that moment I couldn't understand why it even existed. I ran from one person to the other, yelling at them to wake up. To wake up, and to see how beautiful life is supposed to be, and how they need to enjoy it before it is too late. That all the battles they have now, don't matter nor have they ever , and nor will they ever, but no one was listening. I already don't feel like I'm listened to in my everyday life, and being in a position where I felt like I could help but with no one listening, and with my lack of confidence, I gave up. I broke down. I cried, with drool pouring out onto the floor. My teacher came behind me, and rubbed my back harshly to activate my spine, which activated the chakras, and activated the character even more. I was screaming in agony and in pain.
At the end of class each of us discussed our own experiences. When it got to me, I told everyone. My teacher responded and said, “You went to each character and felt like a mom. Your two peers who were fighting had the King and the Warrior mask. Those two always come at eachother's throats, just like brothers. You felt like a mom to them, and does a mom have a higher rank over her kids?” he asked. I nodded. My teacher continued, “Back when these archetypes were created, the king had a higher rank over the warrior, but God was above them both.” He smiled, "the mask you have… is the Priest.”
The reason why I was crying was because there was something in me that refused to surface. Again, like in my first entry, movement releases trauma in the body. Moving the body unlocks the physical traumas, the mask unlocks the mental ones. Forever, I thought I resisted the mask because I was being cleansed of some sort of demon, or because my grandfather was a preacher, and I had some sort of religious guilt, but really,... it was because I wasn’t courageous enough.
(Working with the masks also helps an actor unblock their subconscious so they can find a part of themself that relates to the character that they are playing, who happens to be the complete opposite of who the actor was actually brought up as. I say” brought up as”, and not “who they are” because our “self” mostly consists of words, judgments or beliefs passed down from family.)
After the experience, it left me in even more awe over energy, intentions, performing, and the use of oneself. It also made me highly interested in the concept of narcissism, and how narcissistic I was, and how the world is now. How, before this class, I was stuck to only one way of thinking, or how with other things, I changed my way of thinking in order to please someone. Both examples of narcissism.
1. I refused to connect with others,
and 2. because I wanted someone to like me.
I made it a personal goal of mine to break my narcissism and ego . Narcissism, to be made clear, is who you think you are. Who you portray yourself as, the one dimensional you. Ego is what you believe you can do. Everyday I’d do something that I was normally afraid to do. Mind you, I've jumped 14,000 ft out of a plane,and I perform in front of people everyday, but for some reason introducing myself to strangers one on one makes me want to die on the spot. So I started small, like going to the movies by myself, going first in class, taking myself out on a date. Anyway I did it. I wore all black for a while before too, so I started to wear clothes that made me stand out again. I also stopped fixing my hair right away after movement class, and stopped worrying about my makeup spreading. When I have an in depth, heartbreaking scene in class, my mascara always runs. Now I've just stopped fixing it. I don’t care when my mascara is all over the place, it means I did well. It meant I fucking gave it my all, and now I wear my smudged mascara as a badge of pride. With movement… I have very long hair, and I sweat a lot too. After movement, people would say ”your hair!” in amusement because it would look as if a tiger had given me a bath. Again, I didn't care. I was giving it my all, and I didn't think a lot of it. When I stopped, I noticed that a lot more people cared about the way I looked than I did. There were little things, but I found it funny that people even cared to audibly state stuff like that.. like..I know what I look like… I choose to look like this lol.
I'm not blind , I'm working.
I began to find it a very funny observation from people, considering we all had the same classes, and learned about the same topics on how to stop giving a fuck. It was every class too…Its funny how long we take to normalize things.
What really stuck with me .. were those comments from others. Harmless words that in truth don't affect me in an offensive way, but a in a peculiar confusing way. It brings me back in time to when I supposed to care, but had to pretend I didnt. Those who had trapped me into one way of thinking for such a long time. In grade and middle school, or in mine anyway, because it was a super small uniform school… if you stood out you were pretty much harassed… being the top student, being the dumbass, ect, ect (and also the first 10 years of anyone's life becomes the setup for the rest of it, i went to that school since I was three) I took what others said as negatives, because others looked at it as negatives. I fixed myself up because thats what they liked. I genuinely thought that that is what i was supposed to do.
I let other people's narcissism affect mine. I realized… fuck, I actually do care alot about how people see me, or how they thought of me.. Only because they care! And the people before them! I started to catch myself judging others because I, MYSELF, would NEVER be caught DEAD acting or dressing, or whatever like them. That I was the righteous narcissist. I realized that even the most genuine people could be narcissists too, but again, that's not even a bad thing! But they acted like bad people because that is how they received the word! That was what was expected of them.
What's bad is ignoring the truth about yourself, and continuing to hold yourself up to an imaginary pedestal simply because you do not understand the other person's point of view. This goes with EVERY topic. Serious, or not. Heart wrenching, or not. Good and Evil, Evil or Good. If you refuse to look at the intentions on both sides you are resisting evolution. Continuing to judge one another, continuing to belittle their hunting abilities in a world where it's most important, leaves them with nothing to eat. No, it does not mean to AGREE, or even to allow specific situations to keep happening like abuse, or wars, or chaos in general, but to find what it is that's good. Find what is good, and build off of it. Law of humility. Find the essence, find what, or how to transform their violence into passion, and their evilness into creativity, expression, and to where it harms no one but opinions. If manifesting is real, which it has been proven to be, why aren't we collectively manifesting actual peace?
Imagine there was a church, that wasn't actually a “church”, but a temple or something where everyone, no matter your religious ,spiritual, or political beliefs, could go and come together to just meditate?
“Sitting around the campfire, singing kumbaya isn't going to do shit!”
Well fuck, I mean, if it takes months of ceremonies and mediations to CREATE AN ACTUAL SPIRIT, then do any of us really understand energy? Are we really being taught the extensiveness of science? And why the hell is spirituality not being taught hand in hand with it??? Those "you'll be in my prayers" might actually mean something. Meditating together, as well as action might actually help… just a little bit. Fuck… why cant we all just get over ourselves? Why can't we all get over our narcissism and really try and understand each other. Understand the world deeper, the universe deeper. You are not one way of thinking, and believe it or not, a person could be the most stubborn person on the planet, but who knows who they would be in an unexpected situation. Think...who would you be if this happened? Or that? Who would you be in this family or in this life? How would you imagine yourself in any, and every situation you come across?.How would you honestly handle it? Who would you truly be? Instead of hiding from the dark, light a goddamn candle.
Be so full of yourself that you see yourself in everyone, and they in you.
#Tencouragement#open minded#narcism#inspiration#motivation#democracy#self care#self improvement#explore#painting#realism#art#david bowie#cleopatra#andy warhol#eartha kitt#catwoman#mask#performer#topeng#baliindonesia#science#stem#energy#focus#meditation
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I’m having those thoughts again…about the inevitable doom.
I want to indulge in every food and drink, philosophies and human beings. I want to keep my figure synced and stitched, and my aura brightened and cleansed. I want to touch myself until my lips turn red, and until my skin is bruised. I want to get so high that my eyes will bleed. I want to fill my lungs with flowers until my brain looks like a storm morning. I want to do anything I can so I don’t have to feel him…
My old friend, with the name that rhymes with ‘breath’.
#truth#true feelings#its okay#self help#encouragement#law of consciousness#expressionism#self expression
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The Narcissists Origin Story,
Vampires are one of the coolest mythological creatures to ever exist in any storybook.
As one knows, when bitten by a vampire, there are three things that could happen,
The first being death,
The second you become weak,
or the third you become a vampire yourself.
And who wouldn’t want to be a vampire? They're powerful, strong, immortal, persuasive, sexy, and I have often wondered what it would be like to be one… that is if i was lucky enough to get #3. But to have invincible confidence, and to have absolutely no limits?... Worth the risk, Sign me up!
If you know a little bit about the history of Dracula, you’ll know that Dracula was written and inspired by the governor of Romania (1431), Vlad the Impaler. Who killed a google search estimate of 80,000 people by torturing, and impaling the victims limbs. But why is he a vampire? Well, because he took away their lives. He drained them of their blood and their souls. He was a taker, with no giver in him.
He had to play God, to prove that he was one...
But when Jesus played god, all he had to do was turn water into wine…
…Listen, I am NOT a super heavy,” all sinners go to hell,” Christian, I'm just comparing the two.
And I do believe that some ‘evil’ deserves some sort of moral light shown on it, however, I can't imagine how much energy one has to use in order to kill 80,000 people. You have to be psychotic, I mean you have to be deranged! I can't even get out of bed in the morning on some days, how do you do that?
Anyway, I don't wanna know.
So if Vampires are inspired by real human events, and with Vladimir as the extreme, then Vampires can't be too mythical, right? I mean if all a vampire really is, is someone who makes you weak, then there are alot of vampires that exist in your very own reality. They either kill you while you still breathe, drain you of all the energy you have left, Or you become one of them… A subconscious, conducted machine.
A cycle of sucking you dry, while you respond with, “Sorry! I don't have any more!”
My ex was a Vampire, and like many, he was also a narcissist. A heavy one… as in..an infatuated, ill one. I loved him, he loved what he could get.
When I wouldn't react to him yelling at me, he’d call me robotic.
When he asked to sleep with other people,
When he took pictures of womens bodies in public,
When there were albums, and screenshots of naked women on his phone,
When he'd throw my things, throw tantrums, run out of the house, and slam doors. When my dad had to call me, and ask why he was yelling almost every night because he could he hear his yelling from the kitchen,
When my mother had to pull my arm away from the doorknob because i was running back to him after yet another fight,
When he lied to my face,
When he lied about her,
When he fucked her,
When he fell in love with her,
I was there, with a cup of tea and a “How does it taste?”
When we broke up, I was very confused. I went crazy. Checked his location, his messages, everything. I became delusional, although I was right in the end. Most embarrassing thing was that everyone else knew but me that I was beaten, and sucked straight from my own veins. My mom saw it, my father saw it, my friends, everyone knew. Like I had a sheet over my head, and seeing only darkness was normal. I still just didn't want to hear it. I don't like when people remind me, or tell me how to handle my business, so I tend to do the opposite. Again, I loved him…and love is unconditional, but he was the wrong one to show it to and I denied that. If I had loved myself, I would have never known him. I spent two months in the dark, and one at my grandmas. I wrote a book on how much I hated men, and the rest was an honest blur. Then my big brother passed away, and that honestly shattered reality for me. However, I immediately got over the attraction and emotional connection I had with my ex after my brother had ODed. Like “Wow, that was nothing!”
That week my brother had passed, my mom was also moving out of her house on a whim. My siblings and I all had to move everything out in five days to Texas. There was no time to sit around, and look through pictures or trophies, everything had to be done fast! We had to get out of the house ASAP. We got the call of his passing on the 4th day.
Everyone in the family was exhausted, and by the end it, just really fucking heartbroken. We all wanted to be was alone, but together. There were days of the week where we had to go to the funeral home and get things set up for the memorial, and to say bye one last time. Reminder after reminder that he was gone, It was too much for us. At some points I didn't feel the way I should have felt when my brother had passed. My body, my mind, everything was jumbled. At the same time though, It was bitter sweet. I felt confident, I felt good, I felt pretty, capable, and at ease… I was also smoking weed like a mf, and felt unstoppable. I felt coldhearted on some days, which fed into my guilt. I mean, I had just gotten out of one thing, and then into this. I shut down, and I didn't want to deal with it.
So I didnt, I smoked, spent my money on spray tans, got high with my friends every night. Watched TONS of Eris clips from the Legend of SinBad, (I just found it comforting idk.)
A month after his passing, I had just turned 20. My friends encouraged me to start working for the summer, so I applied to work at Victoria Secret. I got the job and when I did, I was then also encouraged to apply to this theatre conservatory in New York City. Happily, I got into the school as well. Still, everything was moving way too fast. The weed helped to slow things down for a month or two, …until one morning when I woke up in my teacup of a dorm from the sound of a car alarm going off in midtown. That alarm, however, became the “ping” of many new doors opening for me.
Applying to this school was one of the best decisions I had ever made. My classes consist of Acting, Movement, Alexander Technique, Voice/Speech and much, much more. Each one is a little like a mini therapy session. While acting you must have empathy, and in order to have empathy, you must be in touch with your own emotions. A class that helps you do that is my very own personal favorite, which is Movement. Movement helps the actor develop their instrument, and to also help unlock the past trauma hidden deep within the body. By moving your chakras, or circles of energy in a spiral motion, you can release, and learn to control your deep seated emotions. Now, before I go on to act, I HAVE to move my body. It has helped me tremendously with my anxiety. When depressed I always move my body as well, and dance stupid with my headphones on.
Having this class after everything that had happened, cleansed the shit out of me. Everyone in the class had their own circumstance that they were struggling with. I would cry my eyes out in the chair, look over my shoulder, and see the girl behind me with puffy, red eyes, smile, and give me a thumbs up. Like… “Ya girl, same.”
I learned to not be afraid of my emotions, and to seek comfort in my sensitivity. I embraced this, and learned much about myself through connecting with my body…yet, this does not mean that I knew how to control my emotions entirely when they arose. I had never reacted before taking this class. I had never gotten mad, I had let people/family insult and disrespect me to my face, but didn't know how to be angry. I didn't mind a thing, because I didn't want to mind a thing. Before movement, I lived life completely dissociated, and for an incredibly valid reason, and for an incredibly long time. I should have been way more angry, rebellious, and brave, but I didn't know how to take a stand for myself. I didn't know
what it meant to be “angry” for I have always associated that word with violence, or revenge.
Movement is like shaking up a soda bottle, popping a mentos inside, and then letting the cap off. I’d be sitting alone in my room and then BAM! Suddenly, I feel irrationally angry for no reason. When I looked more into it, by journaling or moving, I found that there were reasons as to why I was feeling mad or sad. That I should have been way more aware about how I was being treated in the past. Of course it made me upset to remember the past. To sit in my room alone and to realize, “Holy shit, this wasn't a good person after all, why the fuck did I let this happen?” I started to remember memories that I thought were dreams. I had become sick of letting people put me in their box, I became sick of people putting words in my mouth when I was afraid to use my voice. I was afraid to go outside, I couldn't hold a conversation, and had more frequent panic attacks.
All of the feelings, all the emotions that I avoided during my brother's death, my breakup, and during that relationship. Events in high school and childhood, all of it built up. I kept hating myself, like why wasn't I more mad?? Why didn't I stop it sooner? Most people have this rebellious, revenge phase at 16 by dying their hair purple or sneaking a tattoo, or by doing the extreme like breaking into cars, I suddenly had this craving to do all of it. To do everything I was afraid to do. Like shoplifting, drugs, lashing out, and I didnt want to talk or be around anybody. Thank god I went to acting school during this because I had many opportunities to let it all out. If didn' have an outlet where I could express these feelings, I don't know if I would have survived alone.
And when all these emotions had surfaced, I didn't really have anyone to talk to. I had ended up getting into a fight with my friends which was rooted from miscommunication. Some things were said that made me think trauma dumping on them wasn't gonna get me any farther in my healing process. I rarely answered my parents phone calls, I didn't want genuine advice, or to actually help myself. I enjoyed feeling the pain, I enjoyed staying in this feeling because it meant I was in the right direction. It meant I was becoming my own person. Although brilliant to have actually felt anything, I didn't recognize this as depression at the time because I wasn't numb.
I always talked to my boyfriend though. I met him the summer after my brother passed through one of my close childhood friends. I didn't open up to him much at first though, which was always an issue with my past relationships. This one though, was new, and we became exclusive pretty quickly. I wasn't totally sure about the relationship either, I mean… I had just gotten out of a horrid one. I didn't really intend for it to be serious, but I actually ended up really getting along with him. His energy, his heart, he was different, and I felt different with him. Again, not so different enough to let my guard down. I knew better, and with everyone in my life ‘till right now, I only showed him what I wanted him to see.
As time went on, My boyfriend and I grew closer. I let down my guard, and together, we embarked on shrooms. Yes, shrooms. I let all that anger fester in me the night we tripped. My boyfriend described me as a ghost ,and said ( and I quote) “You were completely naked. You looked at me with your mouth open, and stared. I swear your heart wasn't beating, but then you lifted your arms, screamed, and locked yourself in the bathroom.”( End quote)This is hilarious, I know, and I do remember that.
My heart, contrary to my boyfriend's assumptions, was in fact beating. Not one cell in my body was dead, for I could feel… everything. I could feel the sensation of the trees, the radiation from the TV. Both were completely different energies. The radiation made me instantly sick, and the trees made me feel both joy and melancholy. I screamed at my boyfriend because I had never felt more alive. It was a burst, a rush, a WAVE of energy. I was seeing, feeling, and remembering so much all at once.
After the trip, I cried until I felt like the baddest bitch in all the universe. I felt like a goddess by the end of it. I also learned so much about energy after that trip, it was insane, but the reminder that popped up the most was that emotions are just energy in motion. I shed so much old energy that night, that I actually felt like a new person. I felt like my DNA changed. Reborn, like a vampire after it turns. I was ten times more sensitive after that, but also ten times a bit crazier. I started to get madder! Not the, “Maybe I should be mad,” mad, or a “Regret” kind of angry, It was, “Okay I am in the present, no longer mad about the past, I am actually mad, i am angry, and I do not want to ignore this.”
When I let myself get angry, I felt my power more than I ever have had before. I’d get mad like a man. I'd get mad at my boyfriend, “Why didn't you ever ask questions about me when we first got together? no wonder you don't know anything!” I'd get mad at my parents, “Why did you guys do this? Why didn't you do that?” Mad at my friends, my siblings, my ex, and myself. I was the angriest I had ever been. When I’d lash out, I would also feel their power, I felt like I was taking it. I turned inward. My perceptions shifted against everyone else. I was fierce, like I didn't need anyone.
I isolated myself from my peers at school even more so than I already did. I barely answered my boyfriends calls, was doing AMAZING in acting class, but was smoking practically every night, and every morning. I fought with my boyfriend so horribly one night that all I saw was red. My behavior only grew worse with everyone around me, and I started to skip classes. I felt that because I'm an adult, and that was the first time I didn't have someone's hand down my throat, or strings tied to my wrists, that I could do, and act however I pleased, because as a human being, that was my right. I deserved to let myself react however I wanted, because I never let myself have that freedom beforehand.
It wasn't until I made my boyfriend cry was when I felt like my ex. I snapped out of my God complex. “Oh my god, my boyfriend is me, and I am literally behaving just like my ex right now” Why on earth would he stay when my behavior should be scorned? Which is exactly what my ex asked me. “If I treat you so badly, then why are you still with me?” I started to reflect on my behavior from the past. I saw that I got out of a lot of things. I have had a good life. I have been surrounded by love, been shown love by imperfect people, who had only half of what they've given me. I have teachers who have lived LIVES, who invest in my time. My parents have GIVEN their lives to give me time to live my own.
How utterly selfish I had been.
My sensitivity was at a high, but I didn't realize that my humanity had turned off.
My perception began to alter again, and I saw all the sides. Each of my family members has had to learn to embrace life, no matter the hardships. We all deal with shit. No matter what it is, big or small, and if you're lucky, you pick your struggles. This whole time I thought I was living a new liberated life when really I was just grieving. Grieving my brother, my past,and my childhood. Pretending to be okay, and realizing that this had been my behavior for a while. However, one version of myself felt less and one felt everything.One was modest, the other was naked. I saw habits in the way I treated others. When I spoke I heard my ex’s voice, and I heard adults' voices from childhood. I saw the way I was spoken to growing up, and saw that I had accepted that as the norm. I had not only accepted it, but adopted into my own being.
After experiencing my own behavior and after comparing it to my ex’s, I now see how alike we actually were.I grew empathy for him, and I hated myself for it. He was terrible! If he really had loved me, if he saw how awful he treated me from a stranger's eyes, If he had known how hurt I was, if he saw with his own eyes as he was bringing down the whip, maybe he would have stopped before it burned my skin. If he had loved me at all, no matter the emotions that had risen within him, he could have changed. That was a choice he could have made. Would you like to know the excuse he made when I confronted him on this behavior? “What are you talking about? I fight with my mom all the time, and we are still really close. That's how it is in my family. That's how my dad was when they were married.” ` Perhaps not in order, but that was his response. Incredible isn't it? I don’t respect people who are okay with their negative attributes. Actually, I am okay with it. What I don't respect are the people who embrace them as if it is who they really are. As if it is only who they are. Like someone gets really pissed off, and they throw a chair out the window that ends up hitting a kid walking by, You're just going to let that happen? “Oh, it's just how I get!” or “OH! That's just Miranda!”
In order for me to feel better I could either shut down again and turn everything off. I could let them go, and remain alone. Or I could keep the ones I love in my life, take the harder way. Learn From them on how to be better. Follow their lead on life and on love. In order to do that I had to understand that nothing will be perfect. That there will always be an obstacle that is bound to show up. What's important is how you face them, and to be prepared. To walk with the intention of peace, while filled with humility. To learn that no one is perfect, and that the imperfect people who care about you, don't have to. They love as if they are abundant. No matter how much they give, it will always trickle back to them. I already knew before that I didn't know how to be angry, what surprised me the most was that I didn't know how to properly love either.
I could either let myself feed off my own anger for my entire life, bringing it to others out of spite, or I could learn from the people around me who know how to root anger out of pure love. To turn my anger into passion, and to transform it into that incredible, invincible confidence I always envied from those filthy vampires. I learned that instead of violence or vengeance, I could use my anger to manifest the life my parents worked for. To build a life with my boyfriend, to build him up. To support him through his dreams and be there for his accomplishments, To have his kids, and to hopefully teach them all we've learned as well. To live a peaceful, and joyful life.This is what I want.
And fuck anyone who tries to drain me of that energy.
Affirmation:
That pain you inflict on me, is not my pain, and never will be. The scars on my skin are from your lashes, held by your hands, supported by your arms, sent forth by your heart. Not once have I touched me the way you have. The baggage you throw at me is yours, and I suggest you pack it up. No matter how many times you try to hurt me I will always heal, but you will always hold the weapon in front of you while your back bleeds. It is hard to gain courage when you're always hiding behind something. It is hard to let someone in when your arms just can't seem to stop swinging. It's hard to stop swinging when there's nothing in your head but “woe is me”.
I am not you, nor will I ever be you. Your existence is an epidemic, and I will no longer spread it to try and get back to you. Instead, I send you love, and may you never hold onto it. May you keep a little for yourself and give the rest to another. If you can't, then I suggest you buy a stake, for this blood bank is closed.
xPixie
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