So here we are, full circle. Funny how life works. I was in the middle of my university years when my frustrations with life led me to pursue and explore, for lack of a better word- the unusual. I wanted to know if there was more to life, if I was on the right path or not. In short, I wanted the Truth.
But let's start from the beginning, it was my first time away from home and I was so desperate for it. Living under a tyrannical sociopathic father from a third world country is not the easiest of things to do. On top of that, he was never really a father to me-- rather he was abusive physically, and more notably, emotionally. At a young age we kids, my 2 older sisters and I, banded together to support one another in a house that was more destructive than supportive. We called it "The Circle of Trust"; it was our safe haven. We could rely on each other more so than on our parents, who were too busy arguing to notice the emotional baggage they were creating with each and every single bout of angry outbursts. Don't get me wrong, our mother did her best to keep us safe, and many times it really did feel like our safety was at risk, as well as hers (with good reason). He had struck her on occasion, and on one unfateful day, beat her to a pulp. I worried for her.
My father was psychologically a mess; he had quick black-out-angry episodes which terrorized our family. To make these matters worst, he was often violent. He was with my mother; he was with me; and at times with my sisters too. I was a shy, unassuming young boy. I minded my business and did not cause much trouble. I took after my mother, she was the only one around to parent I guess. Never once did my father pick me up as a little boy and put me on his lap, to show affection and care, to teach me important life lessons I will face as a man, to teach me how to ride a bike, and then later; how to shave, how to tie a tie (which I still don't know, embarrassingly, to this day). Driving is the only thing I recall him teaching me; everything else was a fail. I remember once when I was an early teen no more than 13 or 14, we were upstairs in the office of our store, and he tried to teach me how to count money. Of course, I had that skill already, but he wanted me to count exactly how he counted-- with one finger in between the notes or whatever; and when I couldn't get it just right, he got frustrated with me and said "ah, forget it, you can't do nothin' right". Here I am an extremely impersonable young man, and he deflates me like a balloon that lost all it's air. That summarizes my childhood with him; I am in total anguish, disgusted with his parenting style and lack of care as a father. It seems he wanted, and to this day wants me to be just like him. I was never good enough. Ever.
I am now 28 and realize his behavior lies in accordance with his own inflated, egotistical view of himself-- the true behavior of a perennial sociapath (now that I know what that is). How did he become that way? Well, the premature death of his father when he was around 11 or 12 years old didn't help; he had to become the man of the household and earn the living in an impoverished and corrupt third world country. Maybe he shut off all emotional connections at that time, as a coping mechanism to deal with the harshness of reality. His mother, my grandmother, has always said he was a hard headed stubborn child; "dadda" she would say, meaning hard. On top of that, my grandfather, was in the military and known to be hardheaded himself. I always thought it was pathetic how unemotionally attached he was from everyone; how sad a life it must be to be him. Now I know, he simply knows no better.
Don't get me wrong, I am not complaining about my life; I have come to grips with it and recognize the challenges I now face as a direct result of the emotional scarring I faced as a child. And what was the results of this sort of trauma? I went through school being scared to mess up, scared to be incorrect, and therefore completely shut myself out from the teacher-student exchanges. I never raised my hand, scared to be wrong and get the disproval of my peers and my teacher-- scared to be embarrassed, like my father had done to me so many times. I went through school in a proverbial shell. Never spoke, never tried to make friends. What made matters worse was that I had inherited my mother's shyness, whether genetically or by the environment she nurtured-- being more timid and risk-averse, rather preferring to blend in quietly and respectfully than to make any kind of noise or disturb the status quo. This lethal combination of my parents molded me into who I was as a young man.
In summation, I graduated school and university in tremendous regret; I was unable to manifest the life that I saw for myself. I made progress though, each and every year I made growth; I worked on myself, deep in the shadows, all by my lonesome. I wasn't ready for the world, I told myself. I was still extremely nervous in social situations or large groups in general. I now realize why alcohol and drugs are so rampant on university campuses. It didn't help that at the time I had such a negative view of liquor. Matter fact, year no. 1 was when I had my first taste, and had sporadic drunken nights; of course, not knowing how to manage my alcohol, I would over do it and puke my lungs out, then going on long strikes from this poison that kills your body and brain. I was less socially awkward and able to blend in more among my peers, people I was comfortable with, as I was with my close relatives. It was only near the end of my uni days that I was actively speaking in class, small classes at that.
Now that you know my back story, I will tell you how I am gonna use hypnosis to change my life. Hooray! I should say that despite my past, I have always been optimistic about my ability to change my future. I am always optimistic about righting the ship and realizing my wildest of dreams. :)
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