Acceptance is a key towards being a happier being.
But when I think of the things we’d been taught – even as a small child. And we were trained in some of them – the worst of them being used as someone’s sex toy. For their pleasure and our desire for what we were convinced was love and acceptance. Acceptance for a child can is a big thing. A Large thing. It makes up part of life. Even now, look around. How much do you do to be accepted by this world? A lot of things? A million things? Maybe even a few million?
Take it from me: what are you thinking? Even that is judged in the eyes of social acceptance. How you think and more. I’m talking about your morals and stuff. Whether or not you suffer from depression, or some other form of insanity, acceptance by yourself and others seems to be a key towards building a happier self & being.
Acceptance. The things you HAVE to accept: taxes and death, and abuse. Sometimes I think life is nothing but a series of abuses – from the first harsh dry breath until the last gurgling sigh, and everything in between.
Sure, there are those bright moments, those shining stars which we like to think define us. But isn’t it the worst that defines us in some ways? Our secret desires & cravings – things we dare not engage in for fear of unacceptance; that is to say, rejection of what we feel is right for US even if no one else agrees.
That’s one of the crosses to bear with a DID / MPD system: different levels of acceptance, or no acceptance at all, of differing morals, outlooks, and viewpoints that varying alters may have. We have one: Whistler – a nice enough guy if you were to look at him. But he’s known for whistling down dark alleys at night looking for someone to prey on. We keep that “one” (alter) in a cityscape all its own where it can whistle all it might, but no one’s gonna come looking for him.
It’s best that way for some of our interior beings; the Beast being one, Whistler another, and we have to keep an eye on ’13’, our teenage (or preteen?) alter who swore off of every emotion in the world . . . and whose cold calculating mind – which is also that of a 13 year old – can be very vicious and cruel.
Or the Businessman. We kind of accept HIM, have to, but another one with no heart. He is, as his name suggests, strictly business. And there is no heart in business and he’ll cut your throat in a heartbeat.
Acceptance is also key when it comes to outside forces. My parents – one aged and in a nursing home, the other increasing insane as dementia swamps her mind and she re-engages in old attitudes and tricks to get her way. It is very hard to accept someone who is toxic, but we do what we must: drawing boundaries (which are confusing to her) while still doing our family ‘best’ to make sure her old life goes dragging on, though she swears it’s the last thing she wants.
Acceptance of my parents deaths won’t be easy, but it won’t be hard, either. Getting people to accept that yes – I CAN divorce, alienate, get rid of my parents – that I no longer consider them family at all, except by accident – even they cannot accept that, and neither can many others.
But I can accept them not being good with that, and I accept them (my friends) anyway despite their condemnation of my attitude. They don’t know what went on; they don’t know the horrors I survived. Some, living right next door, would still be in shock if they knew . . . but some know. They saw the scars at night.
Acceptance goes a long way towards achieving some peace in your life. Accepting that we will not, cannot, and never will know all our past. That’s one for ya. Accepting that there are mysteries about black holes in our memory we will never be able to penetrate. Accepting that yes, my younger self sought love in the arms of another abuser, escaping the one he was with – that’s okay, and I’m okay with it. I’m okay with the abuser and abuse itself, though I am not happy the way “he” (the abuser) handled it in the end. He really damaged that little child in a lot of ways neither would understand for years to come.
Accepting that yes, for ten years I denied myself any kind of “positive” emotion, not allowed to show pride, triumph, or even the idea that I might be kind of okay in anyone’s eyes – that was a lot of my parent’s doing. Accepting that they made us an emotional cripple, as well as a social one – and that by accepting, knowing, we were able to painfully and very slowly correct that thing.
When you’ve been as damaged as me (and we) have there’s a lot of things you have to accept about your life, your past, your future, your now, your present, and all the emotions you have. You have to accept those parts that would make everyone sick, and those that are by society’s definition downright evil. You have to smile and grin at them and accept them with open arms, knowing they are down right damaged parts of you, and accept that that will never change. They are what they are and we are what we do and we do what we think is best for all, including the society we are in, even if it causes us pain a lot of the time.
We can accept that, too.
Acceptance is a cruel nature’s joke, but sometimes? It’s the only way to keep on moving and get along, creeping along in our lives.
Learn to accept it.