[Paganism] Weird brainweasels.
Jun. 1st, 2014 11:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
elialshadowpineSo, for some reason there is a particular thing bothering me today. I am not sure why it's come to mind, but it will take a little bit of explanation.
I've talked about how when I was a teen, my dad basically used me as his free therapist, with absolutely insane theories, like my mom's co-worker get-togethers were secret lesbian orgies. Stuff like that. But what else went on was more on the magical side of things. He read the I Ching regularly, obsessively. He was convinced there were demons in the house. Now, to be fair, I saw a fair amount of shit but I'm pretty sure it's stuff he invited in, because he wanted badly for these things to be true, just so he could be right.
He would have dreams and visions and tell me about them. One that he relayed was that he was in his 90s and dying; my sister was there with him, and I was not. From his dream, I was in Europe. This isn't the one that upsets me. He later had a vision that I died at 35 in a car accident.
And he kept in on that. Hammered in on it. Repeated it. Again. And again. It is part of why I had extreme driving anxiety when I was able to get my learner's permit. I heard it so many times. "You'll die in a car accident when you're 35." "You need to make the most of your life because you'll die early." "I'll outlive you."
That was over fifteen years ago. I am turning thirty next year. And that... it's like it haunts me. I find myself thinking, I don't have much time left. I find myself worrying about Morgan and the others I love, because part of me believes he's right and I will die. Even though logically I know that he had multiple dreams where different things happen and the future is never set in stone. There are many things that happened between then and now that could and likely have changed that potential.
But that doesn't help my anxiety. I still have the niggling, "...but what if it's true?" in the back of my head. And part of me worries that by worrying I will draw that to me. And when I Look, I don't see my death there, not yet. And, hm, while I hadn't thought of this angle before, in Tarot, at least, the death card symbolizes change. So, that is a possibility. I wish I could write it off as the ravings of a narcissistic old man but he did have prophetic dreams and visions at times. Not all the time. But enough to be concerning.
On another level, it bothers me on how focused he was on my death. In a way he didn't even seem sad about it. Just... matter-of-fact. I don't know if that's because of his experiences in Vietnam, or what, but looking back, it's really creepy to me.
And the irony is, I have struggled with suicidal ideation my whole life. Yet, the thought of my actually dying... it doesn't terrify me, but dying then would be wrong. That's not my time, and I know that. But the universe doesn't always behave by "should". So... I don't know.
All I know is I'm haunted, and scared, and angry at my father for planting and nurturing poison in my head that continues to toxify me fifteen years later.
This entry was originally posted at http://nonny.dreamwidth.org/517223.html. Please comment there using OpenID.
I've talked about how when I was a teen, my dad basically used me as his free therapist, with absolutely insane theories, like my mom's co-worker get-togethers were secret lesbian orgies. Stuff like that. But what else went on was more on the magical side of things. He read the I Ching regularly, obsessively. He was convinced there were demons in the house. Now, to be fair, I saw a fair amount of shit but I'm pretty sure it's stuff he invited in, because he wanted badly for these things to be true, just so he could be right.
He would have dreams and visions and tell me about them. One that he relayed was that he was in his 90s and dying; my sister was there with him, and I was not. From his dream, I was in Europe. This isn't the one that upsets me. He later had a vision that I died at 35 in a car accident.
And he kept in on that. Hammered in on it. Repeated it. Again. And again. It is part of why I had extreme driving anxiety when I was able to get my learner's permit. I heard it so many times. "You'll die in a car accident when you're 35." "You need to make the most of your life because you'll die early." "I'll outlive you."
That was over fifteen years ago. I am turning thirty next year. And that... it's like it haunts me. I find myself thinking, I don't have much time left. I find myself worrying about Morgan and the others I love, because part of me believes he's right and I will die. Even though logically I know that he had multiple dreams where different things happen and the future is never set in stone. There are many things that happened between then and now that could and likely have changed that potential.
But that doesn't help my anxiety. I still have the niggling, "...but what if it's true?" in the back of my head. And part of me worries that by worrying I will draw that to me. And when I Look, I don't see my death there, not yet. And, hm, while I hadn't thought of this angle before, in Tarot, at least, the death card symbolizes change. So, that is a possibility. I wish I could write it off as the ravings of a narcissistic old man but he did have prophetic dreams and visions at times. Not all the time. But enough to be concerning.
On another level, it bothers me on how focused he was on my death. In a way he didn't even seem sad about it. Just... matter-of-fact. I don't know if that's because of his experiences in Vietnam, or what, but looking back, it's really creepy to me.
And the irony is, I have struggled with suicidal ideation my whole life. Yet, the thought of my actually dying... it doesn't terrify me, but dying then would be wrong. That's not my time, and I know that. But the universe doesn't always behave by "should". So... I don't know.
All I know is I'm haunted, and scared, and angry at my father for planting and nurturing poison in my head that continues to toxify me fifteen years later.
This entry was originally posted at http://nonny.dreamwidth.org/517223.html. Please comment there using OpenID.
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Date: 2014-06-02 01:55 pm (UTC)I wish my dad had more of your attitude. He didn't seem to want me to live, so much as he wanted me in a protective bubble that he could control. I honestly think, there, that he meant well; between his family of origin and what he saw in Vietnam (which he rarely talks about, but what he has is horrifying; when I was a child, I remembered us abruptly leaving the home of a friend of my dad's from the military, and it wasn't until I was an adult that I found out that it was because he had confessed to my father that he had thrown prisoners of war out of helicopters to their deaths... if that is the sort of thing he witnessed, it's no wonder he believes the worst of humanity), he truly believes that humanity, and particularly men (to use his term, my dad is the biggest "feminazi" I know). I truly believe he wanted to protect me.
But, protection became stifling, and his idea of protection involved me not having a life that wasn't scripted. Complete community college (I started at 16 through the Running Start program, although I did not take a full load, so I did not get my Associate's... I'd sorta like to finish that, but, well, money, plus disability, plus... what would I really do with it? Sucks because I was looking over their new courses for my 16yo gothdaughter who will be applying for Running Start as soon as Omi & co move here... they have SO many courses involving diversity, I could just squee. So many things I'd love to take! But, alas! Money.
Complete tangent aside...
Community college, Associate's, transfer to a 4yr school (because it's cheaper that way, and really, the material for the first two years isn't terribly different between a community college and a 4yr), establish career, Find A Man, settle down, have children. That was the Script. I so did not follow the Script. (Disability at 18 really didn't help...)
But, he really didn't want me to live. I was threatened against bringing home even friends, and warned that I shouldn't even talk to fellow students at college unless necessary. My dad would have had an aneurysm if he'd known I regularly chatted with a lovely goth gent. Probably too if he knew that I wandered around the campus and found all the deserted wooded hidey-holes where I could play my music on my portable CD player and write (often under the bridge where there was a cement block that worked for a decent seat, and the trees and water was calming). Probably also would have freaked if he'd known I would chat with fellow classmates and go up to the student center during break to get snacks (I did evening classes, which were 2hrs long, so we had a break in the middle).
I wasn't encouraged to live. It's weird, because when I was younger, I was encouraged to be very masculine, outgoing, even aggressive. When I hit 17, I was supposed to be "ladylike" and demure and watch myself because rape rape rape everywhere. It was a complete 180. I didn't know how to deal with it, and was stuck somewhere between being male and female, and I identify as female but I've had to learn how to be a woman.
This to say, what you are doing with Kira, encouraging her to live her life and take experiences when and where she has the chance, is beautiful. I think that's good advice for anyone in general, because it can be a mistake to let chances slip by. I especially took that to heart myself when I started to develop health issues at 18 and then got my fibro diagnosis at 19. I saw how it worsened over time for my exes Robert and Vel. I wanted to experience what I could, because I knew that I might not have the chance later in life. (And indeed, I have less opportunity now than I did then. I loved going to goth clubs, and would drive an hour to get to the ones in Dallas and Providence but I can't make a 45 minute drive to Seattle now, not and dance and drive back safely. So I am glad for having those experiences when I did.)
ctd.