Me and all the others

child abuse

Child abuse (Photo credit: Southworth Sailor)

I am different. Aren’t we all… I thought about that today, that feeling. Nobody can understand me, because I am different from them, the others.
It was something I read about helping young people with addictions, that got the thinking going.
We seem to think that we are unique. And I am, but there are not six billions different personality types. Something must be similar other then the fact that all humans have a mind.
When I was a child, I defined my whole being, on the “different” part. I saw people being happy, but had problems relating it to my existence. Of course I had moments of happiness, breaks, Christmas, my secret places. But I saw families and other children with lives so different from my own.
I guess that was what made the distance so enormous. When others tried to get near me, I’d back off. I was so different that the idea of being like them was a concept impossible to understand. The idea that someone could help, wasn’t there at all. For me as a  child. Guess I am growing up now.
Following this was the understanding that nothing could change. I was stuck (as the only one in the world) in my situation, with negligence and abuse, and a life outside of the ordinary.
I was way out. When I sort of cleaned up, and got my life together, I used patterns and behaviour I had watched and learned. I did what people expected me to. I hid away the abused child, and what had been me. Put it in a huge locked box and threw away the key. And for some years, I was probably nobody… Well, I know that’s not possible.
I guess over the years I have found me again, and started working out how my experience has shaped me, and my life.
Sometimes I am very strong, feel like I know what I am doing, and love my life. Sometimes I feel very scared about what has been, scared of those feelings that sort of can take over my whole being.
Sometimes I am just scared. But I’m not all that different anymore.

Related:
The end of childhood as a Horror movie 

How are things at home

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9 thoughts on “Me and all the others

  1. Very interesting post, and really has me thinking. I have a 16 year old dealing with mild depression, and I just can’t understand because I feel he’s had such a calm and fulfilling existence. But I can’t tell him how he should feel. I guess this post got that point across to me. So thank you.

    • Thanks for reading and commenting. I am glad you found it useful. From my own experience trying to get three girls through troublesome teenage years, I know that my idea of “perfect life” or “happy family” is quite different from the ideas they had. That’s part of growing up… isn’t it? At some point they stopped being my moms lovely little girls, and had to try out both the boundaries set by their parents and others. Finding a “self” based on their own experiences and thoughts. Those years were quite weird, but now we are quite good again:)

  2. Do you find it hard to relate to people, given your life experience? I often do. The things that most people value in their lives are so different than what’s important to me personally. Though the things that happened long ago were terrible, I think it gave me more of an appreciation for the little things in life and the ability to get through difficult situations now with relative ease. Either way.. Great post. I enjoy reading your blog and can empathize with much of what you’ve written here.

    • No, not really. Sometimes a special kind of men scare me. And yes, my values may be different because of my experiences. It might have given me ability to get through, difficult situations, but it has also taught me to take wrong choices… Like hiding, drugs, not talking to people, don’t trust anyone….
      Thanks for reading and commenting! 🙂 much appreciate it!

  3. You truly write from the heart. I wish you well as you continue your journey in life – and as you continue to work with the walls and fences that you’ve put in place because you were hurt by others.

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