When you see God as a woman, which also makes way more sense, although I preffer it to be something beyond or outside of these ways, my existence could make sense.
When I was little I simply knew that I was worth living, that I could do what I want, although I mainly wanted to do good and also that bad things weren’t worth it.
But I was not stopped by simple barriers or whatever held back other babies.
(Remember, I was climbing out of my baby bed, climbed over my baby chair to make breakfast as a surprise for my parents and such things.)
So yeah, I was an unusual kid, but since I had no siblings and my parents also had a lot of problems, they still have for the most part, no one really noticed how unusual I was.
And I assumed that I was just a normal kid, like any other kid. I mean, how should I have known back then, without much contact to others in that sense.
So for me it was weird, since other usually thought that I had to learn what I already knew and they even didn’t understand themselves. Often I found myself in situations in which I felt as if I would have to hurt myself, do something willingly wrong (or against my will) to make what was expected of me and my age (or whatever).
Only to later see people expect me to do what I already could as a little kid, but then unlearned to fit into what they wanted before when I was younger. So confusing and without any logic.
Well, not to forget my high voice and that I actually had a lot in common which was typical for girls instead of boys. At least from the stereotypical views, besides things like transgender etc.
So my existence was mainly based around understanding why man are the way they are and why they fail to understand. At least this is what now makes sense, at least way more than what I was able to handle when I was little.
I might actually have a female soul and maybe I even lived before or maybe I am the universe from the creator perspective. I don’t know for sure, but I can tell, that in order to understand a man as a woman, it makes sense to become a man.
When I was little and a teenager, I usually knew my worth (priceless) and what I could do (basically anything, although I was happy with what I had). And that I was interested in others, happy to be able to be with them, although I knew that I couldn’t speak with them about what I knew, understood and felt. Sometimes I did, but most of the time I kept quiet or tried to tell it in a way in which it was okay for them or seemed appropriate.
This left me isolated, alone and then also hating myself.
My father and my mother didn’t break my spirit nor did they give me much or support me much with anything. Although my mother would have, if she could have, without her work, my father terrorizing her and others making her feel bad as well, as if she was stupid. She is and was very smart, strong and good-hearted, but fear, hurt, pain and hatred broke most of it.
In my case I got through all that somehow because I have seen through TV shows (when I was little) and also some games and later videos and so on, that there was truth to what I knew and felt. Although it still didn’t really give me that or was what matched it. More as if they were searching for what I already had.
And I was not perfect, I made mistakes here and there and they also followed me, these failures. But I knew that this was the way of things and programming and games also made me handle this, since in there or with these, it was clear, logical and obvious that at some point there is failure or something which has to be done in a different way. Learning. But again, the most important lessons of life, were already known to me for the most part, so I actually had to unlearn them in order to survive. Sounds weird, was weird, is still weird and was literal hell.
It is like telling a tree, that it can’t be grown up after a few seconds, only to see the tree shrink and then tell the tree ten years later, that it should be grown up now.
Great! What a society…
Usually this would then let the tree stay small, since when you once learned something, like a reflex, when you hit a hot thing or a thorn of a rose or something, you won’t do that again. At least try to avoid it, since there is no point in hurting yourself, is there? (No, but I hope you understand.)
So while most people were focused on getting new things, crying around or laughing or making other people’s life hard, I was already over these things. When I was playing something, I usually put everything back when I was done. It was clear for me to help my mother with baking, cooking, cleaning, laundry and such things. I even asked for it, since I wanted to know about all of it. Also about names of colors and such things before I actually was needed them.
So when in school I had to learn about these things again, it was boring. Only to see that it would be like this for the most part.
I think, that because I loved myself and others so much, I was terrified and confused.
And my purpose was to understand hate and pain and all these things and find a way out of it.
Because for me these things were not there or at least not plausible.
I of course felt pain sometimes, but since I probably always had pain, I assumed it was normal, so it was ignored for the most part, until it became unbearable last year.
I had to understand why some people were so ignorant towards others or themselves.
And because I was trapped in their world, I had to become like them first, I guess.
So as an elementary school kid I knew already how to handle emotions, not because I had to (although sometimes maybe I actually had with my father), but because I tried to make me hate myself.
This is of course a thing you should not do, but I understood that most people actually had this problem, so yea…
So for example when I felt too happy in school or was about to get emotional or whatever, I willingly imagined something horrible. From bad grades to getting physically hurt or whatever, until I felt very cold and was emotionless. This was actually a common thing I did in school. Probably after a few traumatic events happened, since life was trauma for me, but some specific ones.
But again, these things didn’t make myself hate myself, so I made myself hate myself.
This might also be what happens to others, but they either don’t know it anymore or it maybe happened subconsciously or passively (without their knowing). In my case it was an active thing.
Probably because my subconscious and conscious mind where together at first and maybe never fully got separeted. I don’t know how to describe it, but I have to use words others use for these things. I personally didn’t even know that there was supposed to be a subconsciousness or whatever. Like with these angel and devil on your shoulder kind of things or two voices etc. I never understood these things and assumed that people were making this up or I don’t know. For me it was confusing and I thought they made it for fun.
Until I realized that they were serious or at least some of them.
When I was little I just had my voice or silence or images, visions and whatever I wanted to see.
So when I wanted to think about something, I did that and when I wanted to talk with myself (or think something through, I just had a monolog with myself and made sense of things along the way). Sometimes in form of writing it down on a piece of paper or forming a poem out of it.
And when I didn’t get a thought and also nothing bothered me, I just observed my surroundings silently.
Really, I just sometimes feel and felt like a camera, just seeing and hearing things, while moving around “recording” all of it. In my case that actually more true than you might think.
When I heard that some people have a photographic memory (or how it’s called), so they can go through a lot of papers and stuff and later remember all of it and look through it in more detail and with time, I thought, hey I also got something like that. It of course depended on my mood, whether I was stressed and such things. But I have a visual memory like a video recorder or in other words, I can visit moments of the past and relive them. Although they are then of course still just memory. And I can also go beyond that and for example imagine buildings, sometimes even close to reality or how they were years ago and “walk” through them inside my head. The problem is, that I can’t draw very well and some of it is also blurry. But for example I could tell you where you could find the nutella in a super market which doesn’t even exist anymore from a time when I was little and even move it in my imagination. And describe everything in a way. Or the schools I went to and such things. And I know that others can do that as well, but yea, it is still amazing and sad at the same time.
Because all this cool things were not helping me and only made me depressed, hopeless and broken.
But through my experience I not only kinda approved that men can have all abilities women have, except giving birth and I also really don’t want to make that thing with my body, but yea… I also showed that people can’t or usually don’t want to understand children.
Because I was already grown up since I was a baby, which then again makes it possible that I have already lived before, I could see all these things which are wrong, analyze them, record and try to change them.
Without much success back then…
I can also not tell whether it was actually me who already lived and was grown up or not.
Another theory was, that maybe some other spirits had felt / seen my love and then were seeking shelter inside me. Giving me their knowledge and also problems, while I made them feel good, what they couldn’t on their own. Well, either way, I was going through more a human being should have to go through.
I think I probably died a few times, since this year I had one moment, soon after or before I had some kind of “awakening again(?) moment” when I was hit with trauma again. I was in my bed and then it felt as if I was getting sucked in by something and it was somewhat dark and felt like an endless tunnel. Then I felt or said something like: “I know this, so this was what I have seen when I was little. But I have to go back.” (or something like that) and then I woke up again. And boy… I was terrified. Around that time I was not only falling through reality, I didn’t trust anything anymore, especially myself. I was as if I was hiding inside my mind behind walls and millions of other stuff, while something was still moving my body. Because I was so terrified.
As I kid I once was trying to kill myself while lying under my blanket, pressing it against my face, knowing that it would get harder to breath after some time and hoping to die when I would fall asleep. Because I knew that during sleep the breath would get even lower and I usually wasn’t breathing that much / strong. And one night my mother found me this way, already a little blue. Maybe it was this time when I first was there and because she felt this at night and woke up and took away the blanket, I came back.
As a kid I thought about this as a very good way to go (die), since I knew that my mother and father would think it was an accident and “just happened”. It would have worked, if my mother wouldn’t have woken up and then safed me.
I also often was having weird dreams, visions and feelings as if I was between time and space. As if I was talking with my future self or past and such things. And sometimes this might have actually happened, I guess. Not with a post card or anything, like actually sending a message through time and space to my future or past. Since I sometimes hoped that I could encourage me in the past to stay alive for what I found again or remembered and also my future me to remember.
All of this turned me into a zombie or robot more or less. Because since childhood I was trying to die.
The saddest part is, that I actually would have had no reason for it because I was what so many needed, wished for and wanted. And I loved myself, knew that like God I could do anything I would like to do, in a way. When I played games, I realized this and through programming, but I felt it all the time when I was younger. But usually my environment told me that this can’t be or simply didn’t understand it or let me be the way I was. Paradox, I know, but that is what was.
I recently thought: “I was meant to be, because I was (not) meant to be.”
This perfectly describes my life in one sentence.
Like saying, because everything was going against this existence, it was needed or necessary to happen. So something big and beautiful could be. At least that would be something worth all of that mess and it made sense and felt good.
But when I would mention it, then people would say that this can’t be, that I am selfish or whatever. Or simply don’t understand even a bit of what I try to tell them or also fear it. Since boy, it was scary. But actually only when I always felt as if it was only me, like always, as if I always had to do everything right, all was up to me…
And when I gave up on the accident suicide path, I tried the long-run failsafe death run.
While a lot of people might have tried to stay alive or I don’t know, I tried to do the opposite. I know that I was not alone with this and a lot of people also have some kind of death wish, you don’t need to tell me that. But I mean, I knew that I couldn’t live like this, with everyone ignoring me, blaming me, forcing me to do which was not making sense, while I knew what would have actually made sense and helped (or at least would be going way more into a good direction).
I already wrote about it many times, but it is also one of the, if not THE core problem of me.
I was too good.
And the problem is, that because narcisisstic people (or people who want to be good and cool or whatever) tend to say that, others think I am doing it because of this and then ignore me or take me for that.
I really was too good.
I mean, I was everything someone could wish for:
- strong (when I wanted or had to be)
- knew what I wanted
- interested in others
- … (and so on)
I had all these qualities, ideas, potential and possibilities.
But it wasn’t really recognized. My mother was at first and also sometimes does support it, like today, when she isn’t too empty and done from work and other problems… but she also often said things against it, when she couldn’t handle it or was not herself.
My one grandmother even said something about that I couldn’t walk that early, although I already spoke with just a few months. But for her it was important that I could walk, which I probably also learned not long after, but communication was more important. And I understood things before I was able to speak. I actually wanted to speak more and probably earlier, but I couldn’t since it was hard to make sound. Understanding was easy compared to that. This is actually still this way, since I am better at understanding things than speaking (or in some cases doing) them myself.
And when you are a little child, already knowing and understanding things the “grown-ups” think you still have to learn and not even know or understand themselves, you are lost. Especially when you realize that even the so called intelligent people or scientists or whatever (at least those who were presented and usually mentioned) weren’t knowing or understanding what I knew as a child. I mean, for me it was hard in school, since I had to think on a level which was beyond my possibility, so I had to assume and try to learn in which way teachers and others need and want things, rather then learning new things. Which then of course also was bad, because I couldn’t learn about things which would actually have been new for me or could have been in a way. And I know that there always have been others who were also thinking in such ways, feeling such things. But I never really heard from them or got in touch with them. Only through things like TV shows or such things, I got messages which made me hope, that there must be other intelligent people out there. Sadly I often learned that they then either got called crazy or that they called themselves stupid or that it was hard work or nonsense they did. Not always and in all cases, but it seemed as if they either also weren’t allowed to speak their truth or didn’t know it was.
So it was no wonder that I made myself hate myself so badly that I believed many times, that I was pure evil and had to be dead, to make me die or want to be dead. The worst thing was, that I went this far, that I accepted that I probably had no escape, that I would always have to go through this, forever.
And this was last year, when I successfully “forgot” or ignored all good I knew and once felt. I hated myself so much, that I thought that it would be best for everyone when I would die and hopefully never come back. I actually only stayed because of my cousin who was giving me his time or at least the possibility to write him. And that he said that he loved me for who I am, although of what I did or thought and so on. I didn’t really believe him, but still thought, that I couldn’t let him alone here. This really was the only reason, I think.
And maybe the fear, that I might end up waking up as a baby again. So I decided against suicide a year ago (8th December). I felt great the same day and even better the following weeks. But I had to make a decision and it was to quit my job, since I didn’t want it and only did it for other people, since I wasn’t allowed to do what I actually wanted. To live, give hope, do actually useful things which would people want to live and love themselves and then also make me happy. I was and am actually someone who just needs others to be happy and then I am happy and need nothing more. And when I can make them happy with helping them with something it was even better.
I had a conversation with my mother about this and that and we also wanted to make some Christmas cookies / biscuits. And were searching for the forms to make then.
So yeah, where have we been?
Right, I was meant to bring good and then made myself hate all of it until I almost was the opposite.
So I then actually was able to understand how most men and in general people with a lot of hate and other problems must feel and be and think. Since I had this good-hearted nature I could luckily not really turn into my enemy as a total, but I was convinced of being the worst being alive or responsible for all pain, horror and suffering in all existence. So yea…. I went far enough I think.
Now that I got out of this again for the most part, I have proof that one can not only make themselves hate themselves to death, but also love themselves again or maybe for the first time, besides all that. Because I forgot that I already loved myself and everyone when I was little and didn’t even know anymore that I had a lot of good moments in my life or that I was strong and so on. I didn’t even know anymore that I was even good or that there was hope for anything. Which then made this experience happen out of a “this happens for the first time” kind of perspective, althought it actually gave me nothing new (technically). But it wasn’t what I got (back) which was worth it, it was worth that I lost all of it and then got it back, since this way I was able to understand why “everyone” (a lot of people or maybe most) were acting, feeling and being the way they were or became. And that was worth it, although it would have been a complete waste of time, been stupid, horrible and like the worst to experience (at least for me and probably a lot of others). But because it was for a good cause after all and it helped me to also give a damn about rules like “You can’t say this!” or “This is crazy, you will be called crazy.” and all… because I knew, that in case I would have to do this all again to come to the same result, why not just talk about it anyway or write about it and if it is all for nothing then at least I tried it, since everything else seemed pointless as well.
And so far it was a good thing. But again, I will never want to do this again and also didn’t really want to do this the first time. It just seemed as if there was no other way and I also didn’t get anything telling me that I should have done or could have done something else. There was just nothing it seemed. Not completely nothing, but at least nothing which said something clear, like: “Just come over here and let’s figure that shit out together.” Instead it was more like: “I don’t know what you are talking about, I don’t know what I am doing with my life, but whatever you do, it can’t be working this way.” (or something like that). Although some people of course also saw that I was good and could do things, but at that point it was already too late for the most part and they also couldn’t help me, so I was alone anyway.
I once heard, that God must have been lonely or alone and so he/she/it (‘… das “s” muss mit’; german memory thing for english learning about the addition “s” when it is about he, she or it, like he knows) created us humans.
Well, I guess that plan didn’t went all that well after all, am I right?
But I actually didn’t feel lonely or alone when I was younger, eventhough I was often actually alone somewhere or at home. I sometimes even felt better this way. And I didn’t feel alone with others back then.
Only later on I felt this way, the more I realise and wasn’t able to share, since most people didn’t want to know or also had no way to help me or whatever. Until I gave up on that case.
Now we will see and again, I am always happy, when there is someone who knows more than me, but not like “knowing” in the way of remembering things like 20,000 pages of a book or whatever. More like “knowing” in the way of “understanding” things and just automatically know or remember something, rather than hammering it into the brain (or whatever some people do with their brains).
The more people understand more than I do and also can do things, the better I feel.
Unlike a lot of other people, who want to be the one who knows all, can do all or whatever. Or at least seem as if they can, while actually a lot of others have to do things for them, to keep their image and also make people like me want to die or actually die, so they can present themselves as God or godlike beings.
Pretty sad, isn’t it? Pretty stupid, childish and insane, don’t you think?
Good that we are just talking about a lot of so called leaders and smart people. Not to confuse it with people who actually know something and can do things, but often get over-heard and ignored like I was.
The more thoughts someone is dealing with, the more intelligent they might be or at least the more they might have to let out. Thoughts are a good thing, but the world often tells it a bad thing. Why? Because they only have a few thoughts if any and they know that if others would start to follow their own thoughts or work through them (in case they are very confusing, conflicting and chaotic which they usually are), they could come to the conclusion that a lot of injustice had happened to them. And this is very dangerous, when someone wants to keep their position and power who was only possible through injustice and a lot of ignorance and pain.
Good people are even called sick.
There is a thing called “Helfersyndrom” (helper syndrome) I heard in german many times, which says that some people just want to help others and then often don’t look after themselves. And then called this a bad thing. My mind was just blown because they actually called empathy and selfless helping a sickness. At least it seemed and felt this way for me. And the only thing which is wrong about helping others selflessly, that you could end up abused, used and such things and then get broken. But if helpers would have others who protect them and give them the safety and time to heal and help themselves, there would be no problem with it.
Next time I would go to a psychiatrist they might even call the wish to live forever (or at least long and happy) a psychosis, oh wait… they do (or whatever they call it). What a parody, what a paradox world…
I wonder whether they know how messed up this actually is. Hopefully they realize now. And hey, this doesn’t go against the good people in these areas, who are just confused or actually wanted or want to help, just don’t know. Because I never want to call one group or profession “the problem”, that is unfair and wrong because there is always someone or something good somewhere or can be.
But I have already seen some people who made animations and stories in which they made their therapist explode their head. Probably for similar reasons. I was just sad, that it seemed that they were going through something similar like I did and felt trapped or lost with what they had. While it was actually creativity, hope and so much good stuff (or what others made them feel and thing, in case of bad things).
Well, and the father of my mother had a problem with killing animals, but sometimes he had to, when they were badly injurged. And although he was eating meat, like everyone in the family, I think he wasn’t always feeling so good about it, since I also didn’t. As a kid I actually liked to eat bread with lemon juice and some mayo(nnaise). Or bread with cocoa (pulver) and milk and such things. And then I felt good.
My mother’s father actually held his breath when he was born and already got blue, but then the nurse(s) asked his mother whether she wants him or not and she said that she wanted him. So they made him scream or at least breath and so yea….
When I was little / young, I said to myself that whatever happens, I wanted to end my family misery, at least the one of my father’s family, since I was my grandfathers (father’s father) only grand child. I either wanted to end my life and therefor end it or at least don’t get children until I die (when I thought that I had to die anyway or hope I could soon). So I also avoided any girls although I kinda loved them all. Hated my feelings and also thought that it was good the way it was. Since I thought that I would then only repeat this painful cycle. Since I knew that my grand parents weren’t really happy, my parents… don’t mention that. I didn’t want to make anyone else feel this way and so I thought it would be better if I would just stop existing. Because I knew that I had also problems and tendencies to be like my father, or his grandfather etc.
And I didn’t want to make anyone go through this.
The worst thing is, that I might have actually caused it because of this.
Well, not by avoiding to make a family in a traditional way, but because I wasn’t able to be honest about my feelings and all that. And because I later also believed that I wasn’t good and whatever shit I or others told me.
I also wasn’t made for a family, like having a wife and children. I was made to be a friend, a fighter, a supporter and such things. But I also had this “reproduction” need or whatever it is that a lot of men have or seem to have had. I don’t want it and also don’t want to be reproduced or whatever. I only had this problem, since it is probably a genetic parameter code thingy. Actually a hormone thing, I think.
So whenever I was able to have for feminine hormones (I assume), I didn’t have such feelings, at least not in a way I would have when I was probably have more masculine ones (or at least hormonse which were said to be this way).
This means, that it is possible to self-regulate the hormones. And usually this was able when I was spending time with others who at least seemed to be on a similar level or path like I was. Or just watching videos of them, hear stories or whatever. Because this gave me peace and calmed me.
Either way, thanks for reading and going through this with me (in a way).
Stay safe and thank you for being here! ❤
I will go baking some cookies (or whatever they are called) together with my mother. 😀
Till next time! 🙂 💛💜