The first definition that dictionary.com gives for the word instinct is: an inborn pattern of activity or tendency to action common to a given biological species. However, is that so accurate? It's second definition mentions impulse, which sounds more like it. We all have various instincts, varying from our hair standing up on the back of our neck, to being able to understand a person without them saying anything. It's not necessarily knowledge of something, but a driving force or tickle inside our soul that says something unique to each of us. There are different kinds of instincts. Survival, Maternal, Internal, Life, or even Death. Some psychologist will argue that instincts are not even real, which seems completely silly to me. I am very aware of all the instincts that I have, and they rule my life.
I understand now that most of my instincts are faulted, from various patterns of social learning that I was exposed to throughout my life; as we all are. Recognizing that my instinct to help the "underdog" is actually my way of helping myself, or being that person for someone else that was not there for me. In actuality this instinct of mine is not helping myself or anyone else. The proof lies in the pudding of all the failed friendships with those underdogs I tried to help up. I completely have to re-learn how to help these underdogs without harming myself or possibly them in the process. Learning that helping them was me trying to help myself through them, and seeing their failures and putting them onto myself, is vital to my new self. Understanding that it is my inner child/self that needs the hug, the reassurance, the security of always being there has been such a moving experience. This brings me to a song that made me break down after a session about my inner child, and that song is Steve Holy's "Love Don't Run." The meaning of the song to me is completely different to me than it is supposed to be perceived, but it was so powerful.
Another key instinct that I have is a survival instinct. I'm not talking the naturally born fight or flight in a crisis situation, but rather the surviving the hard times in life. To cope with things my survival/defense mechanism is to shut down, stay level headed, or completely fold and conform. Now this does not sound like a bad instinct to have, and perhaps I am naming it completely wrong, but it's brought me to think of a situation I had with a friend that repeats itself throughout many relationships I have had in the past. It is the situation when a friend comes to you crying and sobbing about her feelings and how she is upset with either you or someone else. This situation I would greet with a hard exterior, level head and be logical. Seemed right to me, to not be two blubbering messes with no directions and just breaking down. Wrong; or so I was told. It is a true showing of strength should I be able to break down with that person and share my feelings in action and words. It baffled me. My logic was completely wrong? Okay so it is not in every situation, but one situation I had was a friend tell me she wanted someone to cry with, and I told her it couldn't be me. It hurt her, and I felt completely helpless and apologetic when I couldn't share that with her. it is not a matter of not feeling those things, but being vulnerable with someone is very hard for me. I can talk about my feelings for days on end, and barely bat an eye. To show them is a completely different story. This applies also to facing crisis unemotionally, choking any emotion down that would be "wrong" for the situation, where I am defenseless, and disassociating from the situation.
With all that said, I am enjoying this journey of self-discovery that I am on right now. I do not completely understand it, but I do understand that the following quote rings true to me more than I ever thought possible.
“Nothing of me is original. I am the combined effort of everyone I've ever known.” ― Chuck Palahniuk
It is so true, as everything you are in your biological, environmental, spiritual, mental, and physical properties are because of the road you that was layed before you when you were a child. you can change what you want to deny that it is a part of you, losing weight and denying the obesity in your family, finding a rebel religion to your family, or whathave you; but you are who you were made into. This does not mean that you cannot discover truly, and deeply who you were made to be, and change it to something better. It just takes a lot of work and personal truth, and really getting down and dirty with yourself. I can't deny that I am scared of changing what has been so comfortable to me, but have acknowledged that I made it comfortable because of not feeling worthy of change, and honestly was in denial for a lot of years. That was only because I was running away from it. That doesn't solve a thing, and right now I am just in a standstill waiting for the things to catch up to me, so I can counteract them with the knowledge that I have gained about myself.
I do have a long way to go, but I am determined to become who I deserve to be.
To be more specific, it is as simple as grieving. My therapist is insistent on the fact that I have to feel the pain, I have to grieve, I have to release all that I have so neatly bottled up inside. He is so adamant about it, despite me not knowing why I should have a pity party to grieve in such a way that is cathartic. I don't understand it, but that is because all that I feel should have been done about my life has been done; the fact that I have survived it. Is that not enough?
Yes I had no real childhood, was not protected, not loved, abused daily in all forms most of my life, and so on and so forth. I could go on forever about what I did not have, how negatively I was treated, but dammit I made it through! I could be like so many other women who have lived similar lives such as mine who turn to substance abuse as a vice and destroy their lives; but I haven't. I fully take pride in that fact, that somehow, someway I have not consciously punished myself for the evil that others have put upon me. However, having that ability to not to turn to drugs and alcohol, does not make me better then them. I still avoid everything much like they do, but in a sober state of mind.
When you know nothing more than what you have experienced, I do not believe you are able to grasp the "what might have been" or "what I would have wanted" because should you have had different circumstances throughout your life, you would be in the same boat as the one who had the hard road; the inability to know differently. Whatever has happened in life, happens for a reason and while that may be a positive and perhaps unrealistic way of looking at things, it is the truth. It is hard to be grieve losing something that you never had in the first place. Am I completely delusional when I say that?
I cannot deny that there is pain, there is anger, there is black fear, there is a poisonous ball of negative energy inside of me that was put upon me as a child and has never stopped growing since then. It would make sense to somehow pull it out into the light to dispose of it. Honestly though, it scares me. What would it feel like should I be able to grasp upon it and make it exit my body? I have felt the pain once, in direct linkage with the negative influences of my life. It physically, spiritually, mentally, impossibly hurt.
I wonder who I would be without that pain. Perhaps it would just be me, the real one.
I am sitting here staring at the date of my previous blogpost, and I am not surprised in the least that it has been so long. Blogging has taken the back-burner for me, but it was on the road to the back-burner for longer than its been frying. I read blogs all the time, mostly just my favorites as I like to keep up with them. What do I do for them though? I don't comment or even blog in turn for them. Doesn't seem fair, but it is what it is.
There is just so much going on that it is almost impossible to hang onto everything that I enjoy doing as a hobby. Work, school, counseling, and family life is keeping things moving faster than I can keep up with. I forced myself to slack this week though, I needed the rest. I had plenty of time to prepare my garden for spring, play with the kiddos, watch some documentary's, go bowling, and a variety of other things that I enjoy doing.
Therapy is going so well though, probably the best thing I have ever done for myself besides have children. I am finding out a lot about myself that needs alterations, only because they hold me back and I want to move forward. College on the other hand is going backwards. I have been enrolled in a difficult algebra class that I am currently failing in. I accept that, however much I don't like it; I have to accept it. I will fail it with my best efforts to pass it, and it's okay, because I can always retake it as many times necessary to pass it. However much money that takes out of my pocket. I just don't grasp math, and am the first to admit it.
My change of degree to a psychology one has been a good choice for me. It's created a vision for me, therapy through art, or helping women, possibly both. I was born to help people, I believe it is my purpose for my mortal time here. Hence why I have taken the route to help myself first. I found out that I attempted to help people for the wrong reasons, and in the wrong ways, which is why I always got upset with them when they failed. Throughout this process I will discover how I can help someone in the most beneficial way for them, without harming or sacrificing to much of myself into them. It will at least give me the right stepping stones to succeed.
I want to help my family first, my babies have been going through all sorts of emotional stages that I do not understand or ever had the chance to go through (to my knowledge) when I was a kid. My oldest is more sensitive than he lets on, is getting bullied occasionally, hates his reading homework, hates his chores, and is acting out at bedtime everyday by not going to bed and being hyper-ly destructive in his room. My middle child sat in my lap bawling yesterday about how everyone bosses him around, and how it is hard to be a kid. He also does not like school, and hates that he doesn't have time to play much when he gets home from school. He wants to be a grownup so he doesn't have to be bossed around. To me, it is very cool that he recognizes the fact that, that yes children do get bossed around and it is hard to deal with. He is only 7, it is amazing how well he knows himself and how in tune with his emotions he is. My youngest babe is in a growing spurt, and I have nothing real negative to report on him. He knows how to keep himself busy with activities and his imagination, he knows how to play chess for the most part (at 5!!!), is interested in science and discovering spelling and math. He too though will resort to hyper-ly destructiveness with his brother at bedtime. I believe this is mainly because they are both very high energy, and he shows favoritism for that brother in particular.
With all that said, I realized the other day (for the umpeenth time) that I love being a mom. I love discovering things that I forgot about my own childhood through them, and how magical untainted imagination can be. Being a mom is not without it's frustrations however, as there are times that I just want to throw my hands up in the air and wish for the ability to let them go wild and be whoever they become despite the rules of manners, socialness, or anything that parents teach their kids. I cannot do that though, it is just not right. It is all a learning journey though, with no answers or solutions to the various problems presented, for either the parent or the child. You just have to hope that as a parent, you are taking the child in the right direction, and should they not end up in that direction, it was because they made the choice, and any individual can make their own life choices.
Well I think this is where I will stop, and wow I really was all over the map tonight. That's okay, it was good to write. :)