Lost identity
How to become a unicorn
Somebody clearly stole my keys, it’s not me who misplaced it
I have flashbacks from before. Traditional family that knows hopes and disappointments of change. Education in industrial region of developed country with all privileges and tacit consent to be politically oblivious. Marriage, trauma, diagnosis. Everything collapsed like domino – gradually and unbelievable precise. Imagine scenario of a conspiration theory which involves secret information centers, data analyses experts and evil genius decision making, some smoke and off course seduction. That is not what happened. My name, my career, everything I believed in and everything I was hoping for – went down the drain. My identity was stolen. Do I think somebody will try use it? I hope so! To see how useless it was.
Tabula rasa.
I need a new name, new point of view, personality integration and alignment. I feel like I am floating in space not being able to grab on anything specific. Psychosis of unlearning is exhausting. Fighting it makes its worse. I am desperately trying to make sense of my life. I am employing my muscles to do some basic work. Grieving, accepting and practicing gratefulness for what remained seems to be necessary.
Adventure of integration begins – my suppressed truths, bad and good, black and white. I am reading my mind while sensing the environment which is giving a lot of feedback. I sit down and meditate diving deep into myself. What do I want? I know what I don’t want, I have experienced it. I don’t want everything to be the same as it was. I want change of bad things and cultivation of good things. How do I know which are good and which not? I dive deeper and deeper drowning into chaos of generalizations so I come back to my body.
Back on Earth
My new believe system manifests in skill to set boundaries and ability to talk about what is important to me. Wow, a whole new world! My newly born freedom of thought wants rebellion and revenge, but it seems like when I am ready to fight, to stand up for myself, to face my deepest fears, nobody is attacking, nobody shows up. It was an anxiety, an illusion of the future created in my mind. Now when I know myself I can stop to fear the unknown. Letting go. Rebellion and revenge will take care of itself, I guess. Being prepared for a war prevents it. Do I need to fight? No, I need to be ready knowing myself. And sing the kumbaya holding hands, because we are all going to die, eventually, not yet, I hope.
best wishes
Who am I, what do I stand for? I believe having friend, a partner is a human right, and being a friend and working on quality of our relationships is our duty.
I believe I have rights, generally, but I still don’t know them. Fuck, how did that happen? Oh, yes, I relied on a free indoctrination education system provided by government which does not want people to cause trouble having their opinion – guilty, I should have red Constitution when my therapist encouraged me to do so. Actually, I did, but it is written in bureaucratic language and therefore not easy to understand – Stop excusing yourself stupid Bitch, please
We teach our children at school, that they have human rights and then let the teacher (husband, boss) scream at them. Rights are beautiful words that don’t apply to reality and authorities don’t enforce them, so we have to count on ourselves – that is the lesson I remember.
Which is duty?
Should I be responsible for researching and knowing my rights if I don’t believe they are to be respected? Who is the one to enforce them? Me?
The thing is, that I am afraid that I will be shamed, violated, hit, prisoned, killed for speaking the truth. I am. It is real fear. Remembering terror facilities – nobody wants to deal with the problem, not to bring back terrifying memories – inherited unhealed trauma. Real thing, but I don’t want to cultivate my trauma for pity or the label of a martyr – maybe a little bit. I want to share my brave and a chaotic story, to connect with others who don’t believe there is a way out, who rely on abusive partner or boss and who are afraid to reach out for help, who are lonely, isolated and stuck. I believe we are all part of a bigger picture. I have responsibility to talk and I am growing to be able to do so. Kumba-fucking-ya.