ID 101 - 2: How did I get here? (chronology)
In the beginning
I have always remembered that I had an unbelievably bad childhood. I just never remembered the details.
I don’t know when my brain created this black hole to hide all those memories. That is just what happened.
Somehow, my head had created some digestible, bite size memories, as evasive as possible, that would give an idea that my childhood was not a pleasant one. When asked by others, this would not prompt pity or attract unwanted attention. When dealing with my own memories, this enabled me to shrug everything off and feel unconcerned and unhurt.
The memory of the pain, however, was enough to sensitise me towards other people’s sufferings.
These have always been the only recollections of my childhood:
- My oldest memories are being incredibly young, and throughout my childhood and teenage years planning how to kill myself. Nothing else. Just a desire to die. Constant. Never ending. A longing that never was satisfied.
- I did remember a conversation I had had with “father”. I must have been less than 10 years old. He had done, or said something mean, as always, I can’t remember what. I asked him if he remembered how life was when he was a child. He looked at me with a clearly aching heart and said, “it was a long time ago”. I remember holding back the tears, clenching my fists, and thinking “I … WILL … NEVER … FORGET”.
Enough to keep me aware, but not enough to hurt. Eventually the “I will never forget” grew more into “I will not allow bad people to make me bitter and callous”. To me that seemed like a logical progression.
These memories were the biggest motivator when I pursued fostering. Helping a child not suffer what I had to.
And during the assessment for that I was terrified. Bringing up these buried memories. Would it destroy me like it did the first time?
But it seems all the years hiding those memories away, trained my brain well. It gave me a few bitesize chunks. Digestible bits. Once again, I remembered enough to stay conscious, but not enough to be concerned.
However, something happened that changed everything. “Father” died. I celebrated. I drunk myself stupid. I got really stoned. I danced, and drunk, and smoked. I was finally free. My tormentor was dead. He died alone and in pain.
Unaware of the implications I partied and celebrated my newly found emotional and mental freedom.
The tropics
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| Figure 2: My theme song for a while |
Moving to the tropics was my first real independent decision. I didn’t have to prove myself to an ignorant and malignant man anymore. I could pursue my goals, my dreams, my aspirations. I did not know what these were. I just knew they were not the one I had been chasing until now.
I will probably write a book, at some point, about this experience. In this context, what is important, is that I had the opportunity to be alone for the first time in my life.
I don’t know why I didn’t take this chance before. Maybe I was afraid of being alone. Maybe all the nights spent isolated, I wanted someone to share my bed with. Someone I could hug. And that usually, and incorrectly, made me feel “loved”. Maybe it is true that I was designed to love more than I was to be loved.
It doesn’t matter.
I had been in a string of relationships since the age of seventeen, possibly fourteen. I was a true serial monogamist. The only exception was when I was fostering.
Once I arrived in the tropics, I had a business. My house was always buzzing with activity. Workers. Cleaners. Admin staff. Neighbours. Friends. For years, the only time I had to myself was barely when I was in the toilet.
Then everything collapsed.
I was totally alone.
While the pain of the events that led to my situation there was hard to bear, the solitude was a blessing. Never had I felt so free. I didn’t need to apply any filters. I could be me. No pretence. No posturing. No fear of being judged by people who could never understand me.
I adapted to this hermitage a little too well, as some have commented. I really needed it. I started discovering parts of myself that I didn’t know existed, or that I had forgotten. Like my Spiritual side. My thirst for learning. I remembered the things that my mind could do when I was a child. Lucid dreaming. Astral travel. Remote viewing. Changing my heart rate and controlling my body. Seeing ghosts. Reading people’s hearts and soul. Predicting future events. I had completely forgotten about these things, and my interest was rekindled.
Over the next 5-6 years I practiced, studied, and thought I was developing a new side of myself while I was in fact “finding” myself. I joined a psychic school. I learnt Reiki. I started meditating. I acquired a wide range of interests that started from the esoteric and that lead me to more scientific avenues. I learnt new skills. I bought a motorbike and started riding around to discover the country where I was. I tried then abandoned businesses. I discovered non-work-related friendships. And the list goes on.
HOW BORING WAS MY LIFE BEFORE THIS! HOW LIMITING! Just live to do a job. Conform. Fit in. No depth, no zest for life, no REAL personal development … no wonder I was so unhappy.
I embraced this new side of me, and grew mentally, and spiritually.
I can now see how that was an important period in the development of the next version of “me”. At the time, however, I saw it as decadent self-indulgence. And I acted as a decadent, self-indulgent middle-aged man. Completely ignoring my physical and emotional health I eagerly pursued my other interests.
Eventually, the conditions were right for me to return to the UK.
The next phase
The next few years have been very intense. Emotionally, mentally, spiritually, and admitted physically too.
On my return to the UK, I had to pay a lot of attention to my physical condition, which has taken great focus and commitment.
The pandemic, with all the restrictions, helped me sustain the rigour I needed, albeit with some intervals. I have now reached a better physical condition.
I have also taken the opportunity to observe myself and learn more about the part of me that had been hidden for a while.
This in turn, has resurfaced some very unpleasant memories, and I was having some difficulties in managing them, and manage the feelings and emotions that these are evoking.
So, I started thinking!
