Whoa. This realization rolled over me like a steamroller. In meaning to find out what the fuck just happened, I’ve afforded myself getting to the bottom of my messed up psyche. I think, I have pretty much identified what’s gone wrong and where and when. The fact that I’m so confident with this is because I see it happen again as soon as I allow bio family to be closer. But let’s not go there, we’ve been there enough times.
In order to overcome all that had gone wrong from my earliest days on the planet and thereafter, I first found music to occupy myself with. I’ve become pretty serious with it in my high school days, performed in a number of bands and even went pro for a while after my military service and a prematurely terminated apprenticeship (I quit one day out of the blue). The best part about it was that it didn’t only occupy my mind, but my heart as well. In other words: I had found a habitat for myself. Or so I thought. The truth is that I had always put up with the bulk of secondary aspects there, which on the other hand the bulk of other musicians considered as primary aspects, like e.g. getting lots of attention and popularity, getting all the girls and stuff like that. But before I get too longwinded again, let’s fast forward some: I quit playing music for making a living and after a number of odd jobs went to college and ultimately had a career in the high tech industry. The relevant point being here: I seem to have based my “new” identity, my “own” adult identity completely on the job and on being a productive member of society. (in all honesty: That concept rings dangerously close to old patterning, as well, but that’s for a different blog).
Since my demise from the job world in 2007, I have not been a member of society any longer. As a matter of fact, I think I went into hiding out quite some time before that. And the realization that just swept my mind like an oversized broom is this: I can’t take rejection! Or getting singled out. And that’s all I ever got, eventually at least. I found myself singled out, bullied and ultimately let go time and again. And I never seem to have admitted to myself that these experiences made me feel neglected, rejected, disrespected and on top of it all fell on fertile grounds of low self esteem to begin with. That’s what’s knocked the wind so thoroughly out of me that by now I can’t see myself anywhere any longer! That’s why I’ve holed myself up like this for six years going on seven! That is why I feel I don’t deserve being a part of anything any longer, not to mention lacking the courage to take chances again.
It’s a very bad deadlock situation. No risk, no gain. No gain, no feelings of accomplishment. No feelings of accomplishment – vicious cycle closed and locked! And to make matters even worse: I feel guilty again. Or actually: I am guilty of this outcome as I have produced it. Sure, you can always say there was some bad luck involved here and there. But at the end of the day – I am in this place because of me. Because of the way I am. It is entirely personal! And in a big way. Society spew me out because I don’t have a place here. I’ve never been able to take solace in the realization that others got it just as hard or worse than I. After all, isn’t that a completely cynical thought to think? “Be grateful, other people are worse off than you!” What?! But regardless of that, I totally see that many people are in a similar or worse situation than I and that fuels the fire of hopelessness and despair even more. Now all of a sudden, this situation isn’t entirely personal any longer, it’s structural!
I guess, I’m saying that I’m preparing myself to die of unnatural causes. Of violence to be exact. Either carried out against myself and by myself or, and that’s more likely, in the case of massive uprisings against austerity measures in the Eurozone or even war. Even if “only” a financial crash wipe out took place and the benefits I collect would no longer be paid out, I wouldn’t last for a week. I have zero survival skills and very little talent in making things McGuyver style. You could say I’m the opposite of McGuyver: Give me a match, a Swiss army knife and some rope and I’ll be sure to fatally hurt myself!
I’ve been trying to get to the place of finding a new angle, a new perspective. But I simply can’t see one any more. No matter from which perspective I look at things, the conclusion is always the same: It’s over. I’m done. I never had a place here and that’s exactly where I’m finding myself: In no place and “living” like a ghost. Too bad, I don’t have those McGuyver skills, because then I’d go into the woods and away from it all.