Somehow somewhere along the line of my adult life I made a decision evidently that I did not know I made. I disrespect myself.
I do not respect who I am! I am never good enough to please myself.
My latest? What is WRONG with me that I don’t like people?
I really, really DON’T like people any more than I would like sitting down hard on a very prickly cactus!
Do I have the right not to like people? What does God think about me not liking people? “Shame on me for not liking people?”
People – for the most part – seem to me to be yakking squawk boxes. How dare I say this? How dare I think it? How dare I believe this?
I consider an image that gets to reappear in my thoughts over these past 20+ years — because I was blessed to witness it — a group of Dine (Navajo) men sitting in the shade of a few ancient Pinon trees on a hot New Mexican spring day – talking by not talking, speaking by not speaking. One would say something — a LONG time went by – a long time went by – half an hour or more — and someone would say something else.
Quiet voices. Undemanding-of-attention voices. A different pace. A different music.
The pages of this blog are packed with stories of my history. Enough at the moment for me to mention that people were so little a part of my first 18 years of life – except as shadows of lives lived that had NOTHING to do with me as I suffered under the insane mad-woman abuse of my mother — that people as people did not exist for me at all.
I can’t go back and change anything about my childhood – including the isolation and solitary confinement. Yet how hard it is for me to accept – to respect – my SELF as I AM.
Am I getting closer? If people are for the most part toxic to me – and even if I feel so often terribly lonely – but being with people does NOT make the loneliness go away but rather exhausts and confuses me — I really do need to stay away from nearly ALL of them!
As I mentioned in my recent post, I am hoping to complete a goat pen for miniature goats – and a bunny cage or two will be in the mix – so I can have friends I can relate to.
It is seeming increasingly clear to me that if God wanted me to be able to tolerate people – to understand or to like them – He could have given me some worthy studies in being one of the more ordinary people during the first 18 years of my life — where the lessons most mattered.
But, no — my lessons were of an ENTIRELY different kind – and they turned me into an ENTIRELY different sort of person. Dare I accept and respect this fact — no matter what ANYONE else thinks or feels about me?
On a soul level, I am hoping my condition is temporary and will last only as long as I am in a body in this world. In the next world I hope my soul will be strong and good and forgiven – so that I will not be forced (again) into a kind of permanent loneliness that I NEVER asked for.
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