Flawed

Warning

Today’s posts could well be termed “Too Much Information” for anybody reading this who knows me. I’ve concluded that it doesn’t really bother me to put it out here… I mean, I’ve already yapped about much of this, either in therapeutic purging or personal anecdote. So if it bothers anybody, it’s you, so proceed at your own comfort risk. :)

Memory Lane, Part I

So nobody likes to be reminded of their flaws… past or present. But sometimes those reminders sneak up from behind and smack ya in the back of the head. They say that smell is the strongest sense associated with memory. I’d put in a strong vote for sound, too. More specifically: songs. Actually, all kinds of things have been conspiring lately to traipse me down Memory Lane. Some of it good, some of it bad… and a lot contemplative. Oh, I know it’s no use to dwell on the past. I’m not the person I was then… well, I am and I’m not. I’m fairly sure that’s pretty normal.

But sometimes I simply can’t help but wonder… out of curiosity and mebbe just a li’l regret… how much my perspective on life caused my experiences (good and bad) and how much my experiences created my perspective. Kinda one of those chicken and egg questions… which came first? I imagine they’re pretty intertwined, in either direction. And I also imagine this revelation is rather old news in the big scheme of life and humanity, but it’s an ongoing musing for me, and I have little choice but to follow it in search of a logical conclusion.

A Song in Dark Times

So my first “Memory Trip” was triggered (pretty strongly) by the song: “Love of a Lifetime” by Firehouse. I heard it this weekend… Saturday night in the car after I drove Gram home from Family Dinner. That was the bad one… memory, that is. The song was part of a regular set we used to play in the band I joined just outta high school. I had this big ‘ol crush on the lead singer, who could belt that song out with a perfect Firehouse voice.

Now, crushes are pretty typical things. The problem was: my self esteem and confidence was nil. To my own eyes, I had no value whatsoever… and I already had more than one suicide attempt under my belt by time I joined the band. Mostly half-assed attempts cuz I really didn’t have the guts to go through it all the way, and I was mostly just feeling sorry for myself and wanted everybody else to do the same. Either way, it was a pretty crappy way to be lookin at life. And don’t ask my WHY I felt this way… I didn’t really have any real reasons. Aside from typical adolescence, my tumultuous relationship with my mother, and perhaps the influence of my empathy… but that’s a whole nother discussion.

Dark Kaleidoscope

So the big question with such an outlook is: do people really treat you accordingly (that you have little or no value) because you essentially invite them to do so? Are they even really treating you like that at all, or is it your darkly colored perception of everything in life that makes you think that they are? Which experiences stem from which reality? I’m sure it’s relatively easy to tell from the outside looking in… but even from a different inside looking back… I honestly can’t tell.

And I have to wonder… how did my fellow band members REALLY see me? Did they see a mixed up kid? (most of ‘em were quite a bit older). Did they see an easy mark? For years, my memories had them “passing me around” like some kind of plaything. But when I truly try to analyze the whole mess, I wonder if it was more a matter of each making their own private play. Either way, I simply didn’t have the wherewithal... the personal strength, self esteem, or experience to do anything other than whatever seemed to give myself a small bit of value. Except for one… that experience was more like a mutual comfort sort of thing, but even that was jaggedly… just… wrong.

Lasting Impression

Unfortunately these events (along with another, deeper betrayal… unrelated yet still rooted in the same insecurities) inspired a pretty strong distrust of everything to do with men and sex. Everything I experienced after that was drastically polluted by that perspective… and only served to make the matter worse. Even now… years after the whole mess has faded to memory, after I’ve broken the cycle, grown, learned, widened my perspective… a part of that old distrust is still embedded in my psyche. I willingly admit that it is no small factor in my desire to remain independent… no matter how much I claim I no longer allow it to rule my life.

And I have to wonder again… how many connections did I destroy with that poisonous and self destructive attitude? How many potential ones was I simply blind to in my prejudice? How many will I miss or destroy in the future until I can find that elusive balance? I honestly can’t answer that question. Some connections I regret the loss… and I’ve had the opportunity to try to patch a few as best as I can, though they are forever changed. Some connections I want nothing to do with again… ever.

Moving On

No, I don’t dwell on the past. But it is a part of who I’ve become… for good or bad. And, philosophical creature that I am, I can’t help but try to piece together reality and perception… though I’ve heard the thought that reality IS perception.

Amway, seems I’ve had plenty to ramble about for one post… I’ll have to get into my other Memory Lane trips in another one.