I didn’t know I was hurt THAT much in hindsight

This past week allowed me to be unexpectedly self-reflective all of a sudden. In between my blogging life, work, adulting, and everything, I was really thinking about how my life was affected negatively in ways I didn’t even think about.

It’s one thing being physically attacked which I won’t downplay if that’s happened, but bruises and cuts can heal as well as being seen. The mind is far tougher to heal.

I don’t want to be to explicit or wax some grand life story, but I started to understand the causes and effects with how I view things. There are struggles with my mental health as well as my shattered self-esteem that I’ve mentioned before, but I’ve been realizing more and more how I was damaged psychologically. It wasn’t just about explicit insults, but there was a lot of low-key things.

Some examples:

-Being told that I can’t do something or join a certain group because it is “too difficult”. (Geez, dog whistle, much?)

-Being told to just take insults and potshots with a grain of salt while others getting what they want as well as making me the bad guy if I fired back with hurtful words.

-One time a former female co-worker complained about my “male voice” despite never raising my voice at her, around her, or trying to divert attention somewhere else. If the situation was reversed and I complained about her or any woman about her voice, I’d be called a sexist. Back then, I had NEVER heard that as a negative thing before years ago.

-People making fun of my interests, but if I make fun of them in return, they suddenly freak out if I knew about their weaknesses.

-My masculinity was questioned just because I was more into artsy things instead of sports by a couple of people. Dead serious.

-My peers doing some egregious things with impunity, but I do something far less severe and I’m punished for it.

-There were times where I apologized for things I didn’t do even though no one believed me that I didn’t do something when I was a kid.

-I was told by a now-ex-friend that I was being “unchristlike” when I vented out some frustration online even though I wasn’t attacking anyone. I wished I never sought this person’s validation when it came to friendship or even music. They even insulted me and humiliated me while pretending to console me after the fact and I should’ve called out this person more often. Maybe this person wanted a medal for mistreating me while trying to seem righteous while using me or others to get some indie rep or possibly moving to Portland…

That’s just some of the things among worse examples that are far more profane. Some of these emotions welled up and I held a lot of it inside.

There were some very negative side effects because I felt like I couldn’t talk to anyone since no one would believe me or they say I’m making this a bigger deal than it should be. Not only that, but I wouldn’t talk to people for hours on end and I even had periods of self-harm years ago which really didn’t help. I just kept smiling despite being full of agony as I was going along to get along. As I get older, I realized how much others have used me as some kind of object or stepping stone without me knowing about it, how I’m not allowed to speak my mind, or how I’m supposed to just be oppressed with these microaggressions. It’s no wonder I’ve been so messed up in different ways, and I feel like I have to be an autodidact with my recovery. This isn’t going to be instantaneous.

I’m not sorry for this being a more depressing post. I wished I never had any pain in my life as well as immediately identifying all attempts of abuse at me even during my childhood. Shame how so many people never took my issues seriously.

I Wish I Could Smile Without Using It a Defense Mechanism

It’s scientifically proven that smiling is easier since there’s less muscles to use.

If it was physically easier, then why does it still hurt after the fact? I can’t lie to you, I have struggled in the past as being a people pleaser of sorts. Blogging has helped diminish that somewhat, but it still lingers. I tried telling people I wasn’t alright, but they tell me I should keep smiling more or they wouldn’t care about how bad I would feel then. Whether it was me being depressed or angry, it was somehow a nuisance to them. This was just bad advice in hindsight and probably affected my mental health in low key ways.

Are people that inconvenienced at best or scared at worst when I’m in a negative mood? Then again, I’ve seen my fair share of other people acting up way worse than I even could on my worst days and no one seems to call them out, but it’s whatever…

On here or my other blogs, I’d feel like I’d be lying if I said everything was pure sunshine even if I was genuinely happy when I typed something out.

I just wished others including my own friends and family would listen to me and care about my emotional well-being. It’s a shame how some people told me I’m being selfish for asking such a thing, but others aren’t. Thanks for feeding my solipsism, jerks.

Sorry for not having any poetry or any creative posts today. Smiling can be such a chore for me even before these pandemic-filled times. Shame on everyone who subtly violated my mental health in such stealthy ways years ago. This isn’t some kind of sympathy post. I had to get this off my chest as I’m self-analyzing my life.

The Unknowing Trauma Bond

Why was I so naive to try and befriend my eventual abusers?

Psychological violations were low-key

To my own brain and esteem

Shame on me, for only seeing their talent or their facades

No class ever taught me about gaslighting

Why was I so stupid thinking I could redeem them?

Saying sorry even for things that weren’t my fault

Became some kind of vicarious intent for these vampires

When I stood up on my own two feet

That’s where they wanted me to change my name to Billie Eilish (if she was relevant during those times, pardon the pun)

I might as well have been the son of Satan himself in their eyes

None of my peers went through what I went through

This arrested developmental was pure stealth in subterfuge

Hugging me while my back became a corporeal sheath to them

Those same parasites never had my consent when they got to my psyche

No AT Field was there to protect the cortex

Perpetual scapegoating…

Avoiding my judgmental glances…

It was a like those blizzard cyclones that plague New England even when those who control them flee to become a Northwesterner (Nor’Wester?)

I never saw agony in their beings. They might as well sing pop punk tunes and name a band after a Blink or Ataris ditty

#FirstWorldProblems is what their laments sound like

Stockholm got the better of my judgment and I never knew why

I’m sick of having to prove my worth, intelligence, and humanity to them, my own friends…

…and you.

I Wish I Was Never A Defeatist (At Least I’m Honest About That Flaw)

There are times where I wish I took a psychology course

To realize how much my psyche has been abused in ways I never knew how or why from subtle forms

The hobbies I like(d) became objects of ridicule

Social awkwardness manifested in itself

My heritage also made me something to hate regardless of my character

Apologies were spoken ad nauseum for who I was

As if my mind wasn’t flawed enough

So many things forced me to be an autodidact

“Why even bother?” I would say or think

“I know I’m going to lose anyway.”

Stop it, brain.

“It’s always the biggest jerks who get what they want. You need to be cruel to be on top even though you’ll never get away with it.”

That didn’t come from my mind this time. It was bad advice. Get thee behind me…

“Try reprogramming yourself. They think you’re a stupid robot anyway. You’re just a useless piece of –“

SHUT UP!

The violation of my self-esteem affected me way more than I thought. Shame how any affirmative thing I say about myself can be construed as an ego.

All I do was lose, lose, lose, no matter what as I try to squeak out a semblance of a victory.