Ok, this is perhaps the cheesiest post title I've ever used. But I have to give credit where it's due. I'm going to be so blunt here, I doubt I'll ever actually even post it. But here goes before I wuss out.
I have been having trouble today. I finally came up to send all the letters I've been writing and not sending over the years to my parents. If you are the one person who ever reads this blog, I have no contact, abuse, long story. I'm not here to write about that. But short story, one of them dropped one of their periodic "you can't get a way from us" bombs on me and I finally sent them in response. They likely arrived by today. They can't contact me back but it still rocked me. Can't focus, antsy, etc.
So I sought some relief in my intoxicant of choice, porn. Yeah, whatever, it's safer than meth. But that naturally conflicts with my morals and ethics. It's not so much religious, though partly, as much as Punk hangups about being controlled, abuse to actors, profiting from pain, etc. Not here to talk about that either. But I was trying to find some perspective on that aspect in the increasingly bot-chewed internet and ran across some article decrying a movie I've never heard of by, guess what title.
So of course I looked up that movie, watched the trailer and, promptly and completely, my cells lost all cohesion. Total emotional meltdown. Why? I'm not a whore, never have been, never been to one. Maybe some sexual abuse in my past, but I can't unlock it if it's in here. But this was a huge visceral somatic reaction. Ever get those? My therapist says to pay attention to them.
So here I am, trying to figure out why even just the poster blows the cap off some well inside my eyes. I don't even know, the movie may totally suck. But something about the idea of being unconditionally loved...not just in word, but tangibly pursued even in full view of everything that is wrong with me, done to me, grown crooked. Maybe that's it, because here it comes again. I can barely see the screen.
We are all dropped into circumstances we don't choose. We are forced to survive them and that shapes us. But for those of us who had hard ones, we spend the rest of our lives being judged for them, trying to hide them, fix them, get rid of them. We find people who say they care, but really have their own hangups. Every turn we are let down looking for that salvation...that one person who truly gets us and will not stop coming after us...not for some evil end, but because they see something valuable in us.
God I want that. I can't find it. Even amongst people who mean well. Hey, newsflash, my trauma made me REAL good at picking up microexpressions, interpreting and predicting signs most people miss. So you can't hide it. I see it when you tell me I'm your family and ditch me for your biologicals, leaving me to sit at home alone. I know it isn't intentional, but it's still a falsehood and I don't believe it when you say it.
So what, then? Does this exist? I don't know. I like to believe it's possible. I mean that's where these stories come from right? The widest spread religion in the world is based on it...in theory if not in practice. So here's what: I will do what I've always done. I'll meet the need myself.
I'm going to absolutely screw it up...a lot. But I'll BE the thing I want to see. Won't help me much. But if I can make it true for someone else, even somewhat, that's a good thing. Because, you know, it isn't hope that keeps us going. It's action. Hoping just leads to disappointment. But doing something makes a difference. Even if it's swallowed in vapid social media and political circuses. Even if only one person gets it. Even if no one gets it. It's still valuable.
