Did u know that it's really hard to actually write about your personal life? Probably not no, but it's sure harder than you think. But i guess i might as well write it down now because i like writing and i think it's a nice way to process things, not to seem obsessive or anything. To be honest i always had a fear of being obsessive, that's why i wonder if i will ever or if I sometimes am obsessive.
I think i got the thing about obsession figured out. It's like when you find something or someone and you start to like them, and start to care and love which is more than normal. But instead of knowing that those feelings are mutual, you know (because it's most likely to be true) that you actually can't have that someone or something. So in order to fill the void that would leave, you build your own character or thing, a lot alike that desire. Am i right? I guess i can be.
But the act of simply writing something down in order to process or remember it should not be considered an obsessive act, right? Even if there are so much thoughts given to it.
Oh well, with no further ado shall i continue or better said, start this so called "journal".
1. In Medias Res
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When I was a little younger, say I was around the age of 10, I had to go to some support group, for younger children. Now I can most certainly say that i forgot most that was spoken about, yet i am very sure that I haven't for there was one theory which was stuck in my mind for some time. Quite frankly, did i only recall it just when i saw that turtle emoji, but i figured it might be of use to this diary, even if it is only such a small part in my life. But this is to remind you, of how all small things in life can mean more than you think.
First of all is there one situation with more outcomes divided by reactions, these reactions come from different characters.
1. The Lion
2. The peakock
3. The Turtle
Now the lion had always been the terrible mistake, for they said a lion was brute and furious (even if it wasn't true, it's a metaphor, a symbol you can't blame these people, we were just children who followed the lesson without understanding). In other words would all outcomes caused by the anger of that lion be wrong and lead to worse.
Second would be the peacock, which is most commonly known for it's pride and beauty. Most outcomes could be considered good, yet i believe maybe now such behaviour would end up causing almost as much trouble as the lion's behaviour.
The turtle however is only a dull creature according to them. This animal does not defend itself, it simply hides within its shell. They least approved of this character, and i'm not sure why; there's nothing wrong with hiding, it hurst none, not yourself nor another. And though they most preferably would recommend being a peacock, does it happen to be that i am a turtle, and i sadly or very wisely wouldn't change that.
And though i like being the one not to hurt any other, did the fact of me being the turtle cause problems too. Because it would be kind of silly to think that none of these options would have any following problems.
My problem was my father, this i can say about that time. It was the amount of pressure put on me as a child that created a fear that could be endless: the fear to be disappointed.
Some of you, who will maybe read this, will think that abuse comes only with force. But my father exhausted me with lies and promises until it harmed me both physically and mentally. The reason why i was given a therapist at such a young age was because i was sick 90 percent of my time and this was all caused by stress.
For those of you who most certainly can not understand how i can fear and "hate" my own father because your father must be an amazing person, let me explain in behalf of all children: there is a bound between a parent and a child when one is born out of love, but there is not such a thing when a child is born out of abuse. My mother was used by my father for a social image and a place to stay. My father never did love my mother, nor did she truly love him, she just believed his lies. He was and is as i like to call it a shapeshifter, while to be honest I understand now that he is just a sick man. He moves from place to place and whatever is liked in one particular town is the personality he wil adapt. I don't trust or love him at all, he has lost both of these unknowingly because i am pretty sure he believes his own lies.
I understand why he lies; he is a surviver. And i shall have to explain how his instinct keeps him running for you to truly understand my story. But i do this with a heavy heart and probably tears in my eyes because this, this is personal.
My father is a prostitute and my father is a liar. But these things are not the ones on my mind right now. The thing that I can't stop thinking about is the fact that my father sold his sperm and that I probably, somewhere have a brother or sister or maybe more with the same fucked up father.
I will never see them, and I don't ever wish to. But i know it, and feel it. This strange thought does not bother me much, it just wanders around in my mind sometimes.
