a reply to:
geezlouise
Louise, you hit a nerve here.
After plenty of self reflection even before you post, I partly agree but it's a bit different for me. I will type it down now, full disclosure and I
really don't care what other's think about this. If it helps somebody else, that's enough.
I've been through a lot in my childhood. When you see that your own parent's don't trust you for things happening that you don't understand, are not
at fault for, it breaks something in you. When get the impression every interaction is based on a suspicion, again something a child can not know when
an adult preys on them. You just want to be appreciated. Then my family died and I couldn't close that chapter. I will never be able to ask if their
love for me faded and today, I would formulate it very different.
I would ask if I deserved that treatment as a child, I would ask them what of it exactly my fault was so they would isolate me from the family. That's
how I felt. That's how I felt after waking up in ICU and hearing what happened.
In school, because of my speech issue, I got ridiculed. I got ridiculed for the way I dragged my leg behind, for hiding my body because of the scars.
Nobody would shower after sports when I was in there, I felt like frankenstein.
My uncle, a former member here, verschickter, was not like my parents. I would describe him as a philantropic, fd up excentric but good hearted
genius. But he was sort of like me. There's more to it but let's not make it complicated: The letter I received about 11 months after his death where
he confessed that he's my real father because he cheated on his brother corrupted me mentally but let's jump back to my youth. Maybe my parent's knew
and I felt it. I still loved them and their loss destroyed me.
Being a crippled, speech issue ridden, outed bisexual in class isn't easy. When I first started to die my hair red, I didn't do it for attention. When
I got my scars tattooed over, I didn't do it for attention. Being in the influence field of my uncle, in need for a stable person that loves me like I
am, I became the women I am today.
He didn't cut me any slack, no pitty. He wasn't cold but he wouldn't allow any weakness to be used as an excuse. I never heard from him that "This was
good", I only heard critique. I don't blame him for this, we all are shaped by our surrounding, but that's not an excuse either.
I just wanted to be appreciated. That's why until today I can not handle compliments. I just don't believe it. People tell me how awesome they say
they think I am. How badass and focused, the energy I put into things and most things I touch just chooch and work.
It's hard for me to hear that because I can't stop. I am perfectionist and I know it's not good. Now, enough background info, you wrote about making
other suffering and you isolated yourself because of that? This is true for me and I killed a friendship, the only real deep friendship I ever had,
partly because of that.
Then, you will read a lot of things from me that will come over like posing. Since I give a # about what others think about me, most of the time, I
can explain what it is for me:
I throw these things out there, that I sported 1000hp cars, drove races and how amazing the Tycan is, not to pose but because I am enthusiastic about
it. It's a fishing line thrown out to poke those that love the same things I love. To get them out and answer.
If I could, I would enable the experiences I was allowed to make in that field to everyone. Have them feel the joy I did. But then I know because of
my Synesthesia, my senses are all 99% sensitive. The experiences I marvel about might not be that strong for others.
Still I know about the impression it gives. Or when I talk how I do charity. It's not posing, it's attention seeking in a way to meet new people that
like the same topic. Being appreciated for my existance.
Because that's something I crave, because I didn't had this in my youth from the point on, where an adult decided to abuse me and my parents both made
it clear to me that I am partly at fault.
This all came flowing out of my heart, I didn't go back, went over sentences so it could be a very crazy looking post. I feel you are able to grasp
and understand what it is for me, that you described.
In the hope it helps you even a tiny bit.
I love you louise