I don’t know how many times I’ve gotten into trouble for having the “wrong” reaction; that is to say I have gotten into some VERY serious trouble sometimes simply because I don’t react the same as a normal man.
I was once listed as a crime suspect after being robbed while working at a gas station) – because of my reaction. When the cops pulled up (after about an hour), I was washing my car. I guess that’s not a ‘normal’ reaction after getting robbed – but it was for me. After all: my car needed washed, and there was nothing better to do while I waited for the cops to show up. Right?
And then I find I am a suspect, though not the one they wanted. (They had in mind a different man – Detective Beard kept pointing at his picture and asking “Is he the one?” – and despite the fact we told him “no” at least a half dozen times, the man was charged with the crime and found guilty – though we were never asked to court . . . Southern law and things . . .)
As one cop told the detective: “If someone had been pointing a gun at me, I’d of crapped my pants.”
Well, fact is, that was HIM and this is ME, and my reactions aren’t the same. Never have been, never will be. My ‘associations’ are different (due to being sorely abused in the past). And the fact is: I’ve had guns pointed at me so many times it doesn’t make any difference to me. A gun is a gun, and in this instance (a robbery), the gun was small caliber, rusty as hell, probably wouldn’t have worked, and had the robber pulled the trigger, it probably would have blown up in his hand. Plus, – I had also recently graduated from the Marine Corps. Having guns around (even pointed at me) – was old news. Old news indeed.
Loud noises. Most people jump at them. I don’t. I learned early on: don’t jump. Then they’ll find out where you are – or worse, they’ll shoot or hit you when they had been intending on missing. Nothing like ducking into a bullet I’d say. And having faced explosions and nightmares (you don’t wanna know) – guns going off in my ear – I’m kinda innoculous when it comes down to loud noises. After all: if you hear the noise, you ain’t dead, and it ain’t the noise that is gonna kill you. It’s whoever (or whatever) is making the noise – not the noise itself. (Kinda like abuse therapy: the feelings won’t kill you – but the past sometimes can, making you wanting to kill yourself. That’s not a good thing. But the thing to remember is that the “noise” of feeling and emotion – that’s not going to kill you. It’s your reaction to it that cares – and counts – since if you can’t learn to accept it, you might just end up doing yourself in, or punishing your own self for “feeling” what you feel about the things you felt and know. I know we have – time and time again, damaging our self in some way.
When I took martial arts (informally, ranging from 13-17; much more formally since then) – “they” found I had a problem. I couldn’t stay still. I couldn’t just stand there and let someone hit me. I’d always blocking the blow. I couldn’t make myself “not” block it. Every time. Once they even taped my arms down along my sides trying to keep them still. When the blow came I ripped them away, blocking before it landed.
I don’t “do” pain the same as other folks. I usually grin and laugh. Or look down and go “Oh well. I’m leaking again,” in a absentminded voice (because I am “going away” and “zoning down” the pain to a point to where I can still bear it and get on with the job, whatever that ‘job’ may be . . . thanks to my ‘training’ as a young child a long long time ago . . .)
When my father told us he and my mother were getting divorced (this when I was 15 or so) – I laughed – a big ol’ belly hearted laugh.
I suppose I was supposed to be mad, like my brother was – because of my laughing.
When the barn roof blew off one day, I turned to my wife smiling and said: “Now! – We’re getting a new roof.” Courtesy of the insurance company. Got a new one on the house, too, that way . . . a hail storm came along, I went out, inspected the damage – and smiled….
I forgive too easily, apparently. Trusting, too – too much so, some times. Untrusting at others (inappropriately, it seems). And loving – lets not even go there. My daughter says I’m the only one she knows (“in the world” – her own words, not mine) who can unconditionally. I don’t give ‘punishments’ or get “revenge’. I teach instead. Sometimes I have to use hard cold methods to do so – but I teach lessons in life – sometimes to my friends, some of which have been liars and thieves. And yet they are ‘my friends’ – I can get along with them well indeed. Even people who have “ripped me off”. This is something my wife and others don’t understand: my ability to do this thing. And yet . . . it comes natural. I know where their weaknesses lay, and take care not to tempt them with temptations they cannot ignore . . . unless (perhaps) – it is to serve a ‘lesson’ in their life . . .
Abnormal indeed (I reckon). By “today’s” standards. By anyone’s standards. But it’s just the way I am.
I always see some “weird” side in the news – some effect unforeseen – and my wife and daughter have gotten quite tired of my predictive nature, meaning I can often predict what is coming next . . . in “True TV” and Reality shows – as well as in more ‘formal events’, such as politics and military things, or how people will sway and react to some thing (while always maintaining a shadow of doubt, since nothing ever goes fine – and nothing is perfect in nature, especially ME, LOL!)
But what gets me – and I see this happening more and more in our society today – people are judged upon their reactions – and if you don’t “react” in a proper way – they are going to lock you up. Either in a mental institution (“you aren’t like us!”) – or in a cell (you screwed up).
A good “for instance”: someone near to us dies. Do we cry and wail and tear at ourselves??
No. We never have and never did. Inside we grieve – but we never ‘let it out’ (or at least not where anyone can see). We keep a formal, serious calm: “just the facts, ma’am” kind of approach. Especially in emergencies and when things go wrong. That’s just like us . . . and apparently NOT the ‘normal’ thing to do – and so when we do it (“dissociate”) – people think there’s something wrong with us and we oughta be locked up . . . we are ‘guilty’ because we don’t act ‘the same’ as THEY would – because we ARE different from “them” – and so the police officer comes and escorts us off . . . for being “too sane” – in an insane situation. Go figure . . . it hurts, this one really hurts – being punished for what we are (which is a “DID” being).
I watch this every day: crime investigators relying on “normal” reactions to judge their victims (or suspects. Or defendents.) Saying “if he doesn’t show fear, then he’s abnormal – there’s something wrong – he’s either lying, or he did it.”
Fact is – we have no ‘fear’. That thing got burned out of us a long, long time ago. About when we were five years old. Literally burnt out – light that candle up on one end and burn it down the middle – that’s what our mom and dad did for us (but mostly our mom) – inducing such a soul-rendering fear in us that it quite literally “shattered us” (mentally) for a long time to come. (According to the psychiatrists, that’ll the the day I die.)
But it ain’t right to use someone’s “normal” reaction to events to judge US. After all, “we” aren’t normal in any way – not by society’s standards – though we function quite well (better than most of “them”, them being the average human being) – and we are “wonderful” in an emergency (which makes sense – after all, what’s an ’emergency’ when you lived the first decade and a half in “emergency” situations, lockdowns, lockups, and were beaten black and blue? After you’ve been awaken with a gun to your head and someone screaming they are going to kill you – after about the twentyth time – don’t you think your reactions might not be the same as “other people”??? Do you think a body AND a mind can live in perpetual, total fear / panic / rage – ALL the time??? No – you adjust to things . . .
Especially when those things seem “normal” – after all, they were a part of our existence for so long! – the fear, the terror, the desire to be loved; the craving for some kind of acceptance by our own parents?? A life where we lived and everything we did wasn’t all “F’d up” as our parents say? After all, we can do nothing ‘good’ – just ask them – for that’s the way it was when we were a small child – nothing was good enough, and mistakes were common – and ‘they’ or ‘it’ was always our fault in some small way – or more commonly, a large one: purely our fault and things. And then we’d get beaten. Beaten to a pulp. Can you say “animal”, folks? We’ve become that sort of thing sometimes, back in ‘the day’ – when we were getting beaten so bad we nearly lost our mind*.
It’s a frustrating thing, this “being different” and all. It can be kinda hard and definitely lonely when you are the ‘only one around’ who thinks like you do . . . is so ‘insane’ . . . that they love people when they should (by society’s definition) be hating them; forgiving and being kind . . . and yet being able to turn around and “teach them a lesson” (sometimes viciously) – and yet . . .
loving them nonetheless, even while you are doing it (and it makes us sad) . . .
Oh well I guess if that’s insanity, then that’ insanity must be mine – can’t change it if I would, and wouldn’t if I could.
Life’s a “B” and sometimes me, and lets just be happy all around . . . and instead of condemning, learn to see – because the person you are condemning . . .
might just be me.
(* Actually, we DID lose it, in that we had gone “D.I.D” (dissociative identity diagnosis) – a long long time ago – apparently when we were three and four years old. You don’t get that without ‘something’ going on – look it up – since it takes a young mind to break in that sort of fashion . . .)