“Dammit, Mom … I didn’t do anything and they all hate me.” I wailed.
“Well, you clearly did something.” She replied as sweetly as she could with the stinging words.
“No, I didn’t. I just went to school and none of them will speak to me!” I sobbed back.
“I heard you with your one friend talking poorly about some of the other girls.” Mom came back at me.
“But, she was saying stuff, too and I didn’t think she would tell!” I wailed.
“Oh … well … that was a dumb assumption.” She responded dryly.
“YOU ARE NEVER ON MY SIDE!!!” I screamed.
“Not when you are wrong, no.” She shrugged.
“What am I supposed to do now?? This SUCKS and you don’t even care!” I screamed back at her.
“I care, but I can’t fix what you broke. You deal with the consequences, it will pass and never do it again.” She said ending only one of many conversations I had like this with her.
I was so resentful of that approach for so many years when I was young and immature. And, then as I grew up I realized … it was the best advice I had ever gotten.
I never viewed myself as a victim. Neurotic and insecure at times over it, sure … but, never a victim. Life handed me some serious blows; the tragic loss of my only sibling, cancer and open heart surgery at the same time, relationships failing in epic, often humiliating fashion and economic hardships.
Most of them … I viewed as partially or wholly my fault.
That may sound idiotic and being too hard on myself, but I would sure rather have it that way than the other. That thought came to mind when discussing a friend that had gone through a recent break-up. The couple at the center of the conversation were well-suited, they got along well. But, one had suffered through a pretty traumatic divorce years and years ago and her trust in men was just gone. The consensus was that just created too many hurdles for her to truly move on happily.
That made me sad.
Victimhood keeps you stuck. And, not just a little stuck, completely stuck. In a world where you believe every act is nefarious, every deed isn’t altruistic, too many hearts are cold or intentions are almost always bad … you die. You don’t die a physical death, but emotionally you are stunted and rotting inside. Just like my friend (and we all have one), who has decided because of the bad acts of those in the past cannot let go and feel true, trusting love again … she breathes, but she doesn’t really live. I was just as hurt as my friend, but (thanks to my mom), I went to a therapist and actually asked, “what in the HELL am I doing wrong here? I am either a really bad judge of character or a masochist.” And, even in knowing it wasn’t all my fault, I was also able to recognize that some was, dealt with the consequences, fixed it and never did it again. (I mean … yet … time will tell … I didn’t say I won’t still mess up .. but, no worries … it will still be my fault if I do)
But, not blaming everyone else for everything set me free.
It’s why I fight so strongly against the victim mentality. I want everyone free. No one is ever free when carrying the baggage of yesterday. And, no matter how hard you try, you never unleash the weights of those bags by throwing them on someone else. It simply doesn’t work. I often get met with the same rage when I do so. Serious rage. Threatening rage. When I see that, I think back to my juvenile responses to my mother as she forced me to take on my own challenges and even admit that I played a part in them (even when I ACTUALLY didn’t … MOM!) I see wounded children acting out.
That makes me sad.
And, in the end what makes me saddest is we will “cancel” the world and the pain and emptiness will still exist. But, in a world full of so much less. Hollowed out. Empty. Sterile. Sad. And, still … the same pain will throb. And, some will sit in the ashes of the destruction and still find someone else to blame for it.
Pretty Political 