I recently learned about trauma bonding. So what I think of as affection or duty, or love is inextricably twisted up with psychological manipulation in my formative years such that the two can't be separated. The hope of reconciliation or restoration has been dashed on the rocks of the maelstrom in my head. I can't trust my own feelings. Like an addict, I have to stay fully apart from the thing Iam addicted to, and that thing is the same thing that the entire world keeps telling me I am supposed to go toward. The things I am supposed to feel for dear old dad and lovely mommy. But mine were a mask and perversion of what that means.
Yes, go to lovely mommy who bore you and depends on you or she might just kill herself and don't upset her because she'll throw our dinner actoss the room, most likely at us and the calm down and cey for forgiveness and tell you how bad you've hurt her and she had to get a cat to replace the hole you left in her life.
It's sick and I should have punched my dad in the face when he insulted my wife. Should have thrown the rocking chair my mom sat in to tell me that through her bay window and showed them how twisted it was.
But no, that's me. It's my fault. I'm always so dramatic and contrary. See how your little brother fawns on us to get what he wants? Why can't you be like him. No of course we can't beat him for this, he gets too upset. But you should know better so you get beat and better not flinch, and for good measure we'll take a way the toy he took from you and give it to him until you learn to share.
And still, still, I want so bad to hear the one thing I'll never hear, that you accept me for who i am. That you are sorry for all you did and that you release me from all the obligations you strapped me with.
Even the god you built for me sits in my head and accuses every motive, demands more sacrifice, self-denial. I have passed out from attempts to show my pennace, to beat my mind into submission. I have scars all over my body from the mortifications.
I know it's a lie, it's satan, the accuser, sitting in the seat of hope in my soul. I know you are damaged yourself but it's no excuse. You were the parent. I didn't choose to be born. You saw the signs and refused to acknowledge it as I endured intense pains with no medical cause, and couldn't eat for illness. Still it was my fault and you let me live on white bread and rice cereal. You accused me of being on drugs...I wish! But no, I couldn't run away. The demon you set in my mind made sure my chains stayed invisible, hidden in the drive to please you, to be good. To show I was 'saved'.
And so I am forced to accept that my very mind has been raped, Twisted and stolen so that I can never trust it. There is no safe place for me in this world. There is no safe place outside of it, because that's where the demon god lives.
Deeper still I know this isn't true. I know there is hope. I know that my own life shows a goodness and accomplishment beyond this storm, but I am locked inside it and can't see it except in glimpses through the sheets of rain and wind and debris that never cease to charge inside me. I will do what I can to heal and to mitigate the pain of others, even if I can't see it or feel it. And I will seek solace in the Flow beyond thought. True loving God that must exist, please take me beyond my mind. And help me accept that I will never ever see my parents again, and that is not my fault.
