Life Is, At Least For Some Of Us....

I often think about life and what it is about.  I wonder why I have had to walk this path.  It has been rough and is full of pit falls everywhere I step.  I had to see a qualified and agreed upon shrink last year for a workers compensation case I am involved in.  In his report he wrote that my life was the most tragic, yet remarkable life he had ever known. I read his entire report and I found it interesting, honest and was grateful that he had allowed me to receive a copy of it.  To actually be granted the permission to read a psych report on yourself is unusual.  So, thank you Lieberman.

My life is tragic I would have to agree. Sadness has always prevailed in my time here.  I used to think that it must just be the charge of some of us to carry the weight of more inadequate beings.  Some say that I must have been a horrible being in a before life. I went WOW! I must have been a Pharaoh that destroyed, abused and burned absolutely everyone.  I believe that when people judge you so readily they must be some of the people I have met in  my life and they just turned a blind eye to my pain.

The thing is if you met me on the street you would never know that I was this person so full of pain and agony.  I put on a fairly decent show.  It comes from years of being pinched, hit, and knocked around for not putting a smile on when strangers appear in your life.  Do you think that my family ever thinks about the abuse they so readily are willing to deliver again.  Do you think that all those foul people in my life think I have forgotten the guns, the bullets, the deaths, the screams, the whippings, the lies?  Why would I forget being gang raped, or hiding under my bed, of hiding in my mothers closet, not knowing that an orgy was going to happen.  Fuck, I just ran for it as I heard the storm of people rushing up the stairs.  Usually my older sister was there and she would yank me in to the laundry hamper at the end of this long closet.  Oh course, those days were the days where my mom was still married and the domestic fight included fist fights and dragging her up the stairs by her hair as it ripped from her scalp.  But, fuck what is worse, that sight or the orgy she now had in the bedroom with all her new girl friends.  I find them equally as disturbing. Well that is until a new Step-father entered and brought pedophilia an entire new name.  Learn to fight big brother, as I opened the door to see our new "dad" jam his dick down my now brothers mouth. I slammed the door and said "better you than me, motherfucker".  You may be quick to judge of course, but, he is six years older and had been in my bed fucking me the night before.

People point fingers so quick until they hear the entire story.  I learned to use razor blades and knives after my introduction to life.  Not six months earlier did I report to the mom in the house that my brother was hurting my at night, translation for the stupid people out there, fucking me.  Do you know what I was told?  You dirty little girl. You are forcing him to do these things you have a dirty mind, get out.  Of course, this is also while I am still entertaining grown men too.  I said nothing, but boy was I angry.  I had just been doing what I was told, nobody ever told me it was wrong, dirty, or anything.  I thought that is what I was for, how is that for a shocker.  I was pretty pissed off that everything everybody was telling me to do was now dirty and I was fouled and disgusting. 

So I fixed it. I did not cry wolf that is for sure. I would tell you what I did but I am sure you would object to the reality of my attack. Oh well, at least I knew, that is better than not. I hope that BDSM makes it through because I am bored and I find it interesting, especially since I was raised in a dungeon with good men and not men that came in to my room in the middle of the night paying for an hour with a little girl. I would rather be with Masters of BDSM then with men who sneak and fuck small children around the corners in the night.  At least when you enter the dungeons lair they know what to do with a small child that has learned to use knives and razor blades against men and women who come in the dark.  They never hurt me, just trained me up in the BDSM fashion that does not exist anymore, a girl brought up in a dungeon.  Isn't  it better than a girl that went into the family business of abusing the next generation.  Be careful when you judge that which you do not know.  I would not have sex to save my life. I would not masturbate to save yours.  All people seem to ever be interested in is their next fuck, if you do not know this to be true in your life your lucky.  Grow up with a Narcissistic Family and you'll find its all they think about and do, constantly.  It's their power over you because you find it intriguing.  Good luck, they find you savory too.

Signed the Narcissistic View of a Child, Me, don't feel sorry for me, I don't, I am who I am because of all this insanity. In fact when I think about it, would I not be what they raised: a malignant narcissist too.  I mean how could I be any different if that is all I knew.  I don't really know, but I am clear that I do the opposite of everything they do.  I made that decision early on, I did not agree with the way they were living life so I decided to readily watch my mother and do the opposite of what she did.  So malignant narcissist or not, I don't do what they do, I think its wrong to take advantage in such direct and dishonest ways.  I mean maybe they are more evolutionarily advanced, that's obvious.  I should not be so rude and assuming, but I am stuck being a genius and now some sort of savant, hopefully its an idiot savant at least then I sound stupid.    But reality bites because no matter the explanation how can I be different than what raised me, I can't!! However, I can retain the choice and I am free to make one, hence the title of my blog and the honesty to day to shout its intention.