A long, long time ago, in a state far, far away…
In what feels like a billion years ago and a land that no longer exist, I was having a rough time. In a conversation with someone, I said, “I must be a genius because I have a serious deficit when it comes to people. I just don’t get them.”
Now, you have to understand, I was trying to be funny.
I know, I know. I should stop that. I’m really not good at it.
Anyway, at the time I didn’t know a lot of things. Things other people took for granted, things most people thought everybody knew.
Growing up, I learned the difference between public and home. I just didn’t learn the proper lesson.
I knew my family was one way at home, while in public they were a different way.
It took a long, long time for me to comprehend that the people in public were a different way at their home. I thought it was only my family that acted different in public.
I learned about social graces, manners, and proper adult behavior by watching The Waltons, Leave it to Beaver, Little House on the prairie, and the Andy Griffith show.
Yeah. Somehow, I thought this was how normal people behaved.
So, I learned how to cook from scratch, clean the house like no one lives in it, and run the home on a schedule set by bankers hours.
I had/have a few personality traits which cause further problems. For example, I had a stubborn streak about five miles wide. I had to be right all the time.
These combined to make a situation which was difficult turn into an impossible situation.
Don’t forget, I didn’t feel emotions like other people so I couldn’t temper my behavior with nice things like compassion understanding or patients. There was no room for error or anything.
Things had to be a certain way or I didn’t know what to do I didn’t know how to handle it. In the shows, things rarely went wrong and when they did they got worked out in 30 minutes or an hour
During this time I was raising children, so I didn’t have much interaction other adults. I didn’t work outside the home most of the time because child care was not cost effective.
Intellectually, I knew the shows were fiction, but the shows and the vintage cookbooks were all I had to go on. Every person I knew had already proven themselves incapable of negotiating society satisfactorily.
Throughout this time, I had no idea what respect was, what boundaries were, personal space was an unknown concept, and privacy was up there with dragons and unicorns you know mythical and legendary.
I didn’t know anything about coping skills. I didn’t know how to cope. All I knew was comfort, depression and rage.
So, respectable people avoided me because I was a raging maniac.
Users and abusers were attracted to me due to my usability.
This made for a very dramatic, traumatic, and confusing life.
I had read about and heard about happiness, joy, anger, sadness, grief, and other such things. It simply didn’t occur to me that I should feel these things inside me.
Things I experienced
I learned the people I spoke with on a regular basis were invisible to other people.
Several girls took it upon themselves to “teach” me how act. They never missed an opportunity to publicly humiliate me for any and all minor deviances from normal behavior.
Some of these people were/are spirits of those who have gone before and some of these people were/are fractions of my shattered mind.
I didn’t comprehend that other people didn’t experience things I experienced. It never occurred to me the reason I was having such a hard time dealing with “life” was because these things were not usually part of life.
Since I experienced these things from the very beginning of my memories, I didn’t know I should question them.
There’s a question I’ve often asked and heard asked.
Does a crazy person know they’re crazy?
I feel like I can answer that question now.
The answer is no. No they don’t know they’re crazy. No they don’t know they’re different from everybody else. They just think, if they think about it at all, that they’re not as good at hiding it as everyone else. They can’t figure out why everyone else is hiding it.
Why doesn’t everyone else acknowledge the see-through people?
How can people walk through the see-through people?
How can people ignore the see through people?
How can people hear each other over the see-through people?
Why do people say I’m talking to myself when I’m clearly talking to one, or more, of the see through people?
Why are some of the see-through people black and white and others are colorful?
What are spirits?
What are ghosts?
How do you know if you have seen these?
How can I tell the difference between spirits and ghosts?
Later in life, I’d say about 7th grade, I learned about spirits and ghosts. This brought on different questions.
If spirits and ghosts are kind of the same thing, what are the see through colorful people?
Why can’t everyone see spirits and ghosts?
What causes spirits and ghosts?
Why can’t spirits and ghosts crossover?
Why can some spirits and ghosts crossover without help?
Why do some spirits and ghosts refuse help?
In early adulthood oh, I’d say about 24 or 25, new questions arrived.
Does everyone have large gaps in their memories?
Are large gaps in memories the reason for journaling?
Are large gaps in memories the reason for photo albums?
Does everyone have large periods of time they don’t remember?
Does everyone sometimes open their eyes to new places, people, and experiences?
At around 31, different questions.
Do other people have strangers in their head?
I’m not the only one that shares a body with other people, am I?
How do you go about finding a body for the people in your head?
Have I been possessed?
Do the people in my head realize we share a body?
Since my memories start at a certain age, what happened before that?
Is it normal to remember nothing before the age of 14?
Is it normal to remember nothing before the age of 25?
How did I get children? I’m only 14!
How do I tell these people they are all a part of whoever was here at the start?
Who was here at the start?
In high school I read a book call Sybil, my only question was why write a book about everyday life?
Until the end, when she finds out about her personalities, I wondered why they wrote a book about normal life.
Then, I put it out of my mind and continued to struggle and fight my way through life.
When I thought about that book while I was in my 30’s, I realized I was like her. I realized other people did not have strangers inside their head. As a matter of fact, they didn’t have other people, at all.
I don’t remember if she chose to combine with her other people or if she chose to keep them separate, but I wonder how she made that choice.
I often wonder if it hurts to combine and is it possible for all of us to be happy and separate.
Boundaries and Red Flags
For years, these were words counselors and therapist would throw out to confuse me and make me believe I’m responsible for other people’s actions, or so I thought.
Recently, I’ve come across some memes and had a few conversations with a couple of councilors who managed to get me to comprehend what the therapists were trying to say.
Over the years, I’ve heard a lot about boundaries. Boundaries, put another way, are standards. When you set boundaries, you set the standards for how you will be treated.
These standards are the minimum requirements for a person to stay in your life. They need to be respected by yourself and other people.
You, also, set the standards for how you will treat other people.
Well, this post was about three times as long as I thought it would be. Thank you for sticking with it and reading all the way to the end.
Please, leave any comments and suggestions because I really love to hear from people outside my head!!!! LoL
Until next time…