People in general, including my own human self, have confused me from a very early age. I didn't really get why everyone was so awful to each other. I tried to be this better person, a bigger person or whatever. Then friends and family used, abused, and ditched me time and again. My family wasn't the therapy type. It was too expensive or unnecessary or potentially dangerous. So when I first started seeing therapists, I paid for myself to go. I went through a lot of them over time. It was really hard to learn what it meant to feel comfortable with someone because discomfort was the norm in my family of origin. Eventually, I would realize that I didn't feel comfortable with that person, that particular therapist, and I would have to learn how to exit from the bond. It was kind of a huge mess. Worth it, though, because therapy teaches how to redefine stories. For instance, "they ditched me" gradually becomes "they were going through their own issues."
On the inside, though, somewhere deep beneath the new comprehension, there are cells that retain that memory of feeling ditched. That doesn't go away. I think this simultaneously sucks and has a good purpose. We all need some feeling of rejection, of sorrow. It connects us and can help us be more cordial with each other, more compassionate. You probably know as well as I do that the world forever needs more compassion. You've likely met the people who don't connect with their sorrow. They're fuckerheads to their families, to others... and really, to themselves. Not that this makes it right. It just explains that turds shit on themselves, too.
Sometimes being the antiestablishment rebel personality means being the compassionate one. I know that statement goes against all kinds of social norms and popular culture in general. But really, the world we live in is full of bullshit and we need vulnerable sensitive beings who exist with confidence. I mean, certainly, learn how to recognize mistreatment and speak and act against it. For sure that is necessary. Know that people may tell you you're the problem sometimes just because you're the one who speaks up. Fuck those jerks. And remember compassion for them. This sounds confusing when I reread it, and I guess that's because life is confusing.
The trials and tribulations help us when we can integrate them. The people who ditched us, the jerks and fuckerheads, they offer these opportunities to learn about and set boundaries. We learn who we are when Dipshit Junior or Jackass Senior throws a punch. If we're lucky, we get to keep going. I wish this type of luck for you, Dear Reader, that you see the value in your vulnerability and trusting nature.
Well hello there.