Deep inside the voices that speak to me are angry and mean. Chanting choruses fill the quiet in my head with maddening accusations. While I try to fight some of the charges, the voices in my weakest moments, claim their victory, and deeper I fall. The fall is not into a dark depression as one might think, rather a kind of agreement with the voices that I am bad. I am not deserving of love and happiness mock the taunting banter of my inner voices. As a result women, men, some good, mostly bad slipped in and out of my life easily. I was not conscious of the disharmony these people delivered, until neck deep in the wake of their aftermath. Most “good” people were fearful of me. In truth, I found much of their behaviors equally disconcerting, lack luster, or even boring. While I could have taken charge of my own emotional maturity, ushering the voices into adulthood, I instead detached. I busied myself and for the most part ignored the internal narratives echoing the nasty diatribe. It was after all what I knew best. It was my birthright. At peace, in the zombie-walk that comes from this kind of internal divorce, I managed the day to day details of what had become the chaotic rhythm of my life as I prepared to die. Not the kind of death that comes from some dramatic medical diagnosis or certainly not the taking of my life, just patiently, quietly waiting for that sweet release. It would be natural to assume I was sad or depressed however, I was not. I functioned and saw the world as good place, despite my aversion to it. This was my normal. In time, I learned this was not every ones normal. Intellectually aware that I am not deserving of such harsh internal criticism, I remained guarded against the self-loathing thoughts that creep into my consciousness. I fight against these negative thoughts regardless of how familiar. It is difficult to manifest self-love when the people who were supposed to love me the most were so rejecting and abandoning. Moreover, the innate ability to consciously or unconsciously recreate the known, no matter how good or bad was also part of the problem. Recreating scenarios of rejection and abandonment fuel the old narratives. It is here in the quiet of the internal narrative where change is forged. It is the place where God (the universe) speaks to each of us and what can they say to a person filled with such self-hatred and self-directed anger? As I tried to free myself of the relentless droning of the voices, I realized this is ground zero. This is the place, the inroad to freedom. This is the only thing I can control and change… Every day no matter how hard, I try to remind myself I am a good person deserving of love.
Day 77 Your Assignment
Try not to listen to old programmed thoughts about yourself. Try and tell yourself you are good, deserving, capable and competent. Make that your normal. You don’t need a narcissist to validate YOU!