Tuesday, December 26, 2017

Spiritual

There can be no telling of this story without god.  Spirituality is just a plain fact of my life. I'm currently reading an incredible book that talks about religion. It has turned out to be one of the better books I've ever read. The book is called Ego and Archetype by one Edward F. Edinger. I am in debt to this man for putting this book together. It is that good. I'm not sure how much Carl Jung I would have had to read to figure out what Edinger has said in this book. This man laid it out in a single book that is quite easy to read. He had to do a lot of homework. It is not easy to understand all that Jung was trying to say, and anyone who understand history knows that because of the culture Jung could not say everything he knew. I've learned the most about Jung's life work reading the books of others who studied him. This book is one of those, and it has changed my life.

The book is primarily about three things, the ego and its relation to the Self, the symbolic nature of the Self, and how myths when explained psychologically are a path to the Self. Of particular importance to me is the story of the Lord Christ as a psychological phenom. When the stories and dreams of the bible are interpreted as how the psyche develops a whole new world is born. Of course all of this is of great significance to everyone, but this is incredibly important to me because of my childhood. I've engaged the Lord Christ in my life for a long time now, and as has been perfectly explained to me having read this book much of it went exactly as it should have. Waking up, growing up, purposefully increasing one's consciousness is not exactly fun. It's actually the opposite. It can be fucking terrifying. There is always a phase in growth known as the "dark night of the soul". 

On top of that, it always scares me when I read about how some people's psyches are permanently damaged due to childhood trauma. Edinger speaks of this. He has first hand experience of such people. I cannot help but ask myself, am I one of these people? That is a terrifying thing to have to ask one's self. I still feel much as I did when I was a child; no one loves me. By even asking this question I am giving voice to what I have been being told my entire life; there is something wrong with me.

The way I think of it, it's a double bind. Perhaps a triple whammy. Everyone, even if not abused, develops an ego, and must go through psyche work to find the Self. But the abused person, semantics; either develops a different kind of ego, another ego on top of the ego, or the link between the ego and the Self becomes broken. I can make a solid argument that because everyone in this culture is so ignorant of what it really is to be a human being, that all children are abused, so there are some fine lines about this ego business. I've never met anyone living in harmony with nature and culture. I'm sure different analysts, and psychologists have all manner of ways of describing these ego problems. I've read enough psychology books now to know this is exactly the case. Does it matter though what words we use to to describe the phenomenon? We know it is happening. 

That's why I am telling my story, because surely I am learning here too. They almost all agree one must tell their story. Humans are story tellers. It's why we have a frontal cortex.

It seems to me the real break to my psyche happened in two parts, at the same time it seems. One with society, or culture, and one with god. Not only did my own culture cast me out, so did god.

My family was already broken, I just didn't know it yet. You see, I had no idea that my situation at home was not right until I started going to public schools. In my child eyes, it was all I knew, and being it was all I knew, that is how I thought it was for everyone. I remember it as a feeling, I felt normal. I mean to say that when I went to kindergarten I acted my normal, and because I thought everyone had the same normal, that I would fit in. It took me a long time to figure out why I never fit in because this assumption was just how I saw it. Denial in childhood for self protection perhaps. Obviously, my home life was not considered normal or healthy by cultural standard projections, and so it started dawning on me very slowly that something was terribly wrong with me. This is perfectly normal for a child at this age to make that assumption. All children at this age believe the whole Universe revolves around them. I had no way to realize it was my parents who were fucked up. It wouldn't be until adulthood that I fully put the puzzle together

I was sent to the principles office the first week of kindergarten. My public school career started off wonderfully. For some reason when the teacher stepped out of the room I got up on top of the table dancing, acting a fool, to which she conveniently re-entered while I was mid stride. I don't remember why I was doing this. I was probably just showing off. I was probably unable to contain my anxiety. I was probably already longing for the attention of some girl in my proximity, hoping to be loved. 

I remember too, in those first weeks of school a girl sitting next to me, who asked to go to the bathroom, and was told no. The teacher said she could wait. A couple minutes later I could hear fluid hitting the floor. This was when we were all still unsure of how it all worked. She had no way to articulate, to stick up for herself, that she could not wait. She ended up peeing her pants, and I laughed at her. Donnie had apparently already effected my sense of humor. I got into trouble for this too. No one knew of course that I got beat at home for wetting the bed every night. I didn't know what shadow projection was at five obviously. Needless to say I didn't really make any friends in kindergarten. Technically I shouldn't have even been in school yet. I was too young. I didn't make the cut off date birthday wise, but JoAnn was in a hurry to get me off her hands. I passed the tests, and did well enough, so she was able to convince them to let me in. I was always the youngest in my classes all the way through high school.

I didn't do well in public schools socially, big shocker, and it only strengthened the brainwashing that something was wrong with me. I was always in trouble. Due to the fact I have never been able to remember anything actually traumatic in the first six years of my life, and the way my life darkened at this time, I've always wondered if someone at the school got a hold of me. In the city where I currently live, still in the Midwest, only a few hours from the small town in which I grew up, I've seen several people arrested for engaging children in public schools sexually. It happened four times that I know of in two years. Maybe the principle was spanking me too. I just don't remember. I do know that my life went dark. I lost touch with my own psyche. I lost contact with the Source. 

It turns out, that when a child realizes that the thing being done is known to be unacceptable, that one's self worth really goes down the toilet. If everyone gets beat, and beating kids is okay, then somehow the psyche can bear this, but once one knows that they know they shouldn't do it, and they are doing it anyways; darkness ensues. Real deal darkness. This is what makes sexual assault on a child so debilitating, the perpetrators always know they shouldn't be doing it, and the child can always feel this. As far as I can tell, for me it was violence, and the man doing the most violence found it quite acceptable.

Kindergarten for me would have been 1980. It's fucking 2017 now. I watch a ten year old, and a five year old go to school every day. I walk them to school most days. It's only a couple of blocks away. It's an inner city school, and even though it is not a large city, this place has all the things a big inner city would have. Prostitutes are known to hang out at the gas station across the street from the school at night. Drugs are everywhere. Third graders are talking gangster, acting like thugs. My wife over heard a kid in the forth grade, upon being asked by his teacher what his plans for the evening where, that he was going to Netflix and chill. If you don't know this is slang for having sex.

I've learned that the people in these bigger cities are just as ignorant and repressed as those who live in small towns, they just have a trick up their sleeve. They will not be racist, or sexist, or hate gays, or eat better, and then will think they have the upper hand. They will have some trick for tricking themselves into a sense of superiority over the person living in the trailer park, the person who is one rung lower on the pecking order, but usually they are just a little better with money. If you delve into their personal lives they will be just as ignorant and repressed about what it is to be human. They will think because they dress better, eat at better restaurants, have a nicer car, do more "city" things, that they are not just as ignorant and repressed. It's just a fancier way to be ignorant. It's like most rich people that I've met; take away their money and they end up being more white trash than those in the trailer park. 

This is the case at this public school I walk to; it's the same as any other in the Midwest. These school teachers are not trained whatsoever to deal with these kids, living in one of the highest crime per capita neighborhoods in the whole country, who are all being abused at home. They think that college degree makes them actually intelligent. If you ask them they will tell you they know how life works. Now I'm not saying there are not intelligent public school teachers, there are surely some, but I can promise you they are sufficiently buried in the culture and bureaucracy that they have no voice. It makes it easy for me to see, why instead of asking what was wrong with my home life, they simply said; there is something wrong with him. That is much easier to do
 
The point I'm trying to make is that nothing has changed. Four decades later and nothing has changed.

The ten year old is an introvert. I am an introvert. This ten year old isn't being abused like I was, and the public schools social environment is still fucking up his sense of self with their mass ignorance. He gets picked on, and made fun of. His teacher calls him to the front of the class despite his terrifying introverted fear of doing so. He has a list of things he has to deal with. I think to myself, what chance did I have? This kids mother loves him, and she shows it. For me it was even worse when I went home. I was trapped on all sides with no way out. 

Most "educated" adults don't really know what the unconscious is, much less that there is multiple layers to it. We have our own personal unconscious, then there is a collective unconscious, and then there is a level beyond that. We could go out right now and find all kinds of public educated fools with psychology degrees that have never even studied Jung at all. How is a child going to manage it? I'm saying this, because if most adults did have this awareness, then it would be in the collective unconscious, and this outward pressure of ignorance would not be dictating more ignorance. In other words, if the majority find it acceptable to be different, and realize things wisely, this can be felt by everyone even if they are not aware of it consciously.

If you were born in the Midwest as I was, you would have been immersed in the most ignorant of collective unconsciousness. This would have tricked you the same as me. Profound ignorance regarding life, and what it is to be human would be the norm. I remember reading something in prison, about how only three percent of the population was actually functional. My counselor was giving me this information in his attempts to rid me of some of my loneliness. He was trying to help rid me of some of my shame letting me know that most everyone is dysfunctional. Not three percent of the prison population, but three percent of the actual population. This was one of my first hints that not all was as everyone was pretending it to be. This mentor of mine was showing me a bit of the cultural facade.

In Hermann MO, the year 2016, the recorded population was 2,366 people. I can't imagine it was much higher in 1980. This means there were potentially eighty adults at that time who would have been considered functional in my collective unconscious. Seems to me they were terribly outnumbered.  

Put this into context please, for yourself. If you're in a room with one hundred people, and only three of them know the actual way something should be done; are they going to win out? Say you are at work, and there are one hundred employees debating an ethical or moral issue, like say, spanking, and only three people know that spanking is wrong; what is the social standard going to be? Mother fuckers are going to be getting beat. Make it ten percent. Even if ten out of a hundred wouldn't be enough to sway the field.

In 2016 the state of Missouri claimed there were six million people residing within. Going by this estimate of three percent, there are roughly 180,000 functioning adults in this state. Now if we take into consideration where Missouri stands as a whole culturally, I'm going with this number being way too high. Missouri is going to have a lower average than quite a few other states. Intelligent functioning adults don't tend to live in run down small Midwestern towns where most everyone is bigoted. Hermann, MO isn't where one goes to find a nice job. There were no jobs. The founder of the town had skulls and cross bones on his fucking tomb stone.
  
I remember getting kicked off the bus. This riding the bus business created so much turmoil in my life. I've been responsible for children as an adult and went out of my way to keep them off the bus because of my own life experience. I was getting into trouble on the bus constantly because other kids would pick on me. I have this particular personality that sticks up for myself. I was born that way. I have this crazy thing about not backing down from fights even if I know I'm going to lose, especially if it is on public display. Fuck that shit. Ride or die. I would even try to fight high school kids for picking on me. I didn't give a fuck. If I couldn't fight directly I would calculate behind their back. Because it bothered me so much to be picked on, I was picked on even more. It was a vicious circle, and I didn't have what it took to get out of it. In the early 80s the worst thing for a boy was to be called gay. It didn't take long before I was being called Ben-Gay. The name comes from an analgesic heat rub. Add to this that Donnie would constantly belittle, ridicule, and beat me for being emotional and sensitive. I got extra beatings for crying like a pussy, as he would put it. So when the kids tried this shit, not being so big as Donnie; I was willing to fight for my honor.
  
Every day on the bus it was some drama. When the bus driver finally took actions against me this put JoAnn in a bind. She had to work, she couldn't afford to take me to school. She didn't even have a car. Donnie used the car to get to his job, and he was gone long before I needed to be at school. She was a stay at home babysitter. I was too young, the school too far away, for me to get myself there. My life was basically threatened at home to not get kicked off the bus. JoAnn ended up going into the school with me. She had to make it work. They worked out a deal. I had to sit in the front seat behind the bus driver. If I was good I got a blue piece of paper that I would have to take into the principle every day, and then I was allowed to raise the flag at the school every morning. If I got x amount of white papers in any given period of time I was off the bus. What they did not know was that I found it incredibly embarrassing to raise the flag. I was being punished for being good. To be singled out in such a way was torture. So there I was, being tortured on all sides.

Everyone was picking on me, even the people who were supposed to be looking out for me.

When the next school year came around the paper thing dropped. I'm pretty sure it was the first grade when I was raising the flag. One day, this kid JoAnn babysat was sitting in the same seat with me on the bus. A bunch of kids were making fun of me, and he started chiming in. I really don't know how to say it. When people make fun of me publicly I can feel it inside. They might as well be striking me physically. Since JoAnn babysat this kid, in my mind he shouldn't have been chiming in. He should have known his place. He said something extra mean, everyone was laughing, so I grabbed his head and slammed it into the bus window such that the window cracked.  We all know how it went down when I got home that day. It cost Donnie money that time. Money he didn't have.

There was no where safe for me.

Of course we went to church. We had to go to church. No one was a good person if they didn't go to church. Church sealed the deal. The church was directly across the street from the gas station Donnie ran. A small white church with that classic Christian feel and look about it. The steeple on one end of the high pitched roof. The classic steps leading up to the door. The wonderfully placed stained glass windows down both sides. Large yard in front of the entry. It wasn't a Baptist church so it had a much lighter feel to it. Serene feeling compared to the Baptists churches I had attended. I could feel the Lord there, and this added to the dupe. 

Maybe it wasn't school that made it all go so dark. Maybe it was what I was hearing at church, while at the same time experiencing the school. Maybe it was that both of these things were happening at a time when I began to remember. The church duped me the mostest. The school did not have that energy. I can still feel the energy of churches. It's a thing. I know others who have this same sense. I'm not going into metaphysics and magic right now. My five year old self didn't know anything about metaphysics or magic. All I knew then was what they were telling me, and that I could feel and "see" things of which solidified the concept of god in my mind. 

If I take the Myers-Briggs personality test, I score as an INFJ.  Normally I would be quite skeptical of such a simple test being revealing of my personality, but when I got on INFJ blogs and read first hand accounts of other people's experiences of social life as an INFJ it was a critical moment for me. I cried. My mind was blown. It confirmed that in certain ways I was not so alone as I had believed. It lessened the noose that is always tight around my neck. Perhaps after all, nothing was wrong with me. Not ever really having a sense of self, never knowing who I really am, always wondering how I would be if I had not been abused, reading those peoples stories affected me profoundly. I've always had to be other than I am in a certain way in order to survive, but obviously even for the craziest of people that only goes so far. We all, even if we go stark raving mad, follow our own natures to some degree. It appears that I followed my nature as well.

Turns out that a male INFJ is the rarest of personalities, something like less than one percent of the population. A male INFJ is by cultural standards quite feminine in many aspects of personality. Sensitive, and emotional being two of those things. Those two things got me beat and ridiculed more than a little. Turns out, no one was ever going to know me. This is a double bind of the worst kind. I can't not want to be known. My heart longs for it to the point of constant pain. This hole they created with their abuse, abandonment, and neglect was too big for me to fill on my own. I was going to have unknowable qualities without the abuse.

I must find god, for it's only god who knows me. 

Unfortunately, I was in my thirties when I found this out, so this INFJ information did my five year old self no good. Being an INFJ ties in with spirituality because what this means is, is that I have an ability to see things others do not see. I can practically see the unconscious activity of others. And so if we are talking about god, which is the unconscious, I have a personal window into that realm. I can see things going on that others do not notice and it doesn't take anything extra on my part. It happens naturally for me. I was never able to figure out why everyone else couldn't see what I saw. This added to the idea that I was flawed. This added to my loneliness. This ability also made my life synchronous in a way, or I should say, I could see synchronicity when others could not, and I attributed this to god. These ignorant small town Midwestern folks thought of god as some guy up in the sky, handing out punishment and rewards. I could see this happening, so it proved to me that god existed. That there was this force operating behind the scenes, and that force must be god. I knew this because I could "see"it. 

It would be a long time before I figured out this was not how it works. The issue was that my little child mind could not see the bullshit of organized religion, of the culture. I could not tell the difference between the personal, the collective unconscious, and the deeper levels of the unconscious.  To me it was all god. I had no way to separate out the lies from the truth. I did not know how to defend myself against this storm, so I swallowed much of their bullshit whole. This made my life dark.

Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so.
Jesus loves me this I know
For the Bible tells me so
Little ones to him belong
They are weak but he is strong

Over and over again I would hear about god loving his children, protecting them, yet everywhere I went, especially at home, that was not the case. I learned that not even god loved me.





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