I
Had To Teach Myself What “Good” Felt Like
I am unique and extremely bizarre. The way in which I
was raised could be categorized as sick, twisted, sadistic, and perverted. My
dad and grandmother taught me to be both their whore and whore to many other
strangers and men.
In a way, it was to my emotional wellbeing that I never
experienced happiness, excitement or joy because I felt my miserable existence
was perfectly normal. I did not miss out on my childhood, rather, it was just a
childhood with a different scale, an emotional measurement. I think most
unabused people have a wide range of emotions from a 1 which is very bad, awful
to 100 which is pure happiness and bliss. My scale simply measured bad, worse,
awful or agony. It was a very small, narrow scale of emotions that I had to
work with. In a nutshell, things that happened to be were on a scale of
badness. If it wasn’t bad, I did not know how to categorize it. The only
positive thing I can remember from my childhood is birthday cake. Birthday Cake
was great!!
I felt no love, only handling and use and care not to
cause me enough harm that I’d end up at the hospital or require medical care. I
could be used but not handled too roughly. There was no love there.
When I moved to Oregon, I started going for walks in
these big, beautiful and bountiful old growth forests lush with carpets of
ferns under foot and trees wearing blankets of hanging moss. As I walked, I felt
not bad. But I could describe it no further. So, I tried something. I started
repeating “this is good”, “this is what good feels like”, “this is what not
hurt feels like”, “I like how this feels; this feels good”. And I walked and
walked and repeated these new and strange thoughts. I was pretty sure that what
I was feeling was a positive emotion and I guessed that the feeling was “Good”.
Before that, I didn’t really have first-hand knowledge of what Good felt like.
I had to teach it to me. I discovered I could feel Good. And I let that feeling
grow.
My emotional growth had been stunted, stomped on and
eradicated to the point that I had only experience with negative physical feelings.
Growing up there was no one feeding me love, care or kindness. It was a devoid,
empty and flatline way to live but it was all I knew.
I’ve been expanding and growing. I’m becoming aware of
the telltale signs that what I am doing or where I am “feels good”. I’ll notice
a subtle or wide smile upon my face. I’ll notice a warmth in my heart and tears
of wonder and happiness falling on my face. No one taught me this. There was no
one demonstrating these emotions to me. I have had to teach myself what others innately
know or have most likely experienced.
God, I know I am bizarre and my upbringing, my days
have been filled with agony, torture, unbelievable perversion and crimes
committed against me by those called family.
I’m 59 years old and I am just finding the words to
explain an existence beyond outrageous.
