I was thinking today, about where my beliefs came from? How did I arrive where I am? Who exactly am I? I thought maybe some might be intersted to know. I could write a full book, but this has most of the highlights and those were to lengthy for a post, that is for certain. I would have to pick apart the things that were influenced upon me. It is said we have freedom of choice, that we can be, who we want to be. That's not entirely accurate. The truth is when we are young, we are impressionable. I've heard a lot of talk of clay lately as a metaphor. Well a child is like clay, and others mold that clay into a future adult. One reason I think that parents need to do a better job at being parents, teachers need to do a better job at putting an end to bullying, and setting good examples.
First off, I am partially the bi-product of some rather extreme physical, emotional and sexual abuse on many fronts. My Mother had attempted to kill me, at least a dozen times, including 10 minutes after I was born. She rejected me, she never thought highly of me, or showed any caring. My Step-Father could not except me as his own, his only way to accept me, was through fear and terror, so that I would respect him, listen to him, and obey him. Perhaps his way of making me his. My real Father, I'll get into more later, but he was and still is emotionally abusive, my grandmother also was to lesser extent. Because of what I went through, it is not much of a surprise that I became withdrawn. My fellow classmates, recognized me as a target, and until I was 18 they never let up. The teachers I suppose thought I needed to find my own backbone, but when I did, I nearly got expelled, and the other student didn't even get a detention. By the time I graduated, I was almost fully withdrawn from society, which lead to co-workers taking advantage of me, bosses yelling at me for not getting everything done, even though they knew the other employees dumped their loads on me, as did the bosses. It is no surprise really that it lead to different mental breakdowns.
On the religious end of things, my Grandmother (1907-2005) raised me, she was a good Southern Baptist, who learned how a child was to be raised in the early 1900's. As a former teacher in a one room school house her ideals were that if I didn't know the answer look it up. To me as a child this felt cold, specially with her other viewpoint “Children are to be seen, not heard.” It made me feel like I wasn't very important, that I should not ask for help let alone talk. Even as I graduated High School, and into my twenties, her viewpoint never changed, I was and always would be an unworthy child.
My Dad, well his faith has changed, lots. But he was always open minded to other faiths, he is a self-proclaimed Christian-Buddhist. As a child he took me to various churches, in what he thought was away for me to choose my own faith. I was really to young at the time. He also took me to Starwood and Winterfest two Pagan gatherings long before Burning man. I have lots of memories from these that have become important to me. Sitting down and talking to Issac Bonewits, Taking writing workshops from Robert Shea, listening to Robert Anton Wilson, and meeting Dr. Timothy Leary. I got to learn about the church of the subgenious and got into a debate with their founder Rev. Ivan Stang.
I said I would get to the emotional abuse from my Dad. At the age of ten he told me outright that he never wanted a child, that my Mother had me to use as leverage against him. He spent a dollar amount that has gone from 22 Thousand up to 75 thousand to get custody of me, the child he didn't want. It seems to come up several times a year, his guilt trip on me for costing him. I wanted to go to college, but he claimed I never showed interest, because if I had he would have stayed at his job, so he could put me through college, rather than forming his own business. Again I get the blame for his business being unsuccessful, because I made him choose to do it sooner than he was ready for because of my lack of interest.
My first schooling experience was through a Catholic School, I was forced to go to the Presbyterian Church with my Grandparents. I know my Grandmother was Southern Baptist, but her closest friends husband was the minister at the Presbyterian church, he baptized me, and that is where I went, and they went there, because of their friendship. I was enrolled in the Catholic School because my Dad's lawyer told him that the Judge is Catholic, so you will win brownie points. It was a life of hell. During every morning church service, I was not allowed to attend, instead I had to wash the teachers cars, or the windows, or mop the floors. If someone pushed me down, the staff called me clumsy, their precious good catholic students would never do such a thing. Maybe I gained resentment for Catholics, I really hated anything to do with the Catholic church until I was in my early twenties. I finally got expelled from the Catholic School in 3rd grade. We had a hall monitor, that would escort and supervise Bathroom visits. When I got back from one such visit, I was dragged to the office, The story was that the Teacher stepped out and I did a strip tease for the whole class. The students backed it up, including my best friend. A parent/school meeting voted unanimously to expel me. The story stuck into my new school. My first weeks were faced with being pushed down stairs, having doors slammed on my hands, being attacked by four or five other students at a time. It got better in High School, and became more just name calling, and stupid pranks.
All and all somehow I learned to forgive. I think because of all the religious input I received. I this day can forgive anyone now, I had the Catholic Church to forgive, My Step-Father, Mother and Father, my classmates too, and the teachers. Somehow I learned to Love even though I was the unloved.
The point of this really is, if you think it is hard for you, think of how hard it should be for me. These events shaped this ball of clay, and all though the influences were negative, and left imperfections, and negative effects, it also turned out a person who always has a smile for others, who is able to forgive anyone, and because of that gives love freely to all mankind. Is always kind, considerate, and caring. Is Loyal and Honest. Maybe it is the fear of being hurt again that was the main factor, fear that if I do wrong, those evils of my past will be there to cause me pain. Even if it is, I am glad I am who I am.
