Sundrip Journals
I heard so many one line commands about who I shouldn’t trust but you never told me when its okay to trust.
Never trust a man when he tells you he loves you. He just wants to sleep with you.
Never trust anyone who says “trust me.”
When is it okay to believe a man who says “I love you?” Exactly when is it okay to trust at all? Please tell me, how did you summate the trustworthiness of a complete gender into one single sentence?
My therapist and I discussed the theory of Basic Trust as explained by Erik Erikson. Erikson says that a child learns trust from his caregivers. He trusts that when he’s held he won’t be dropped. He trusts when he’s hungry he’ll be fed, comforted when he’s ill and have his needs cared for. This foundation of trust if healthy can lead to a healthy trust and outlook of the world. We take trust lessons from very early on and apply what we’ve learned to the world around us. Dr. D remarked that when my mother violated me she also damaged my Basic Trust which I then took into the world and based everything on these early lessons.
What I took from our conversation was that the earlier we treat our children with care and concern the better. From infancy we start to learn and we take those lessons with us out into the world. I can say with certainty, everything I know about mistrust I learned from my mother.
I have to wonder what on earth I’m doing? I mean really, am I just totally off my rocker or am I in a space now where I can venture out and not feel like I’m going to crash and burn? For me to even consider walking down this road says to me I’ve made a tad bit of progress in my healing.
I’ve said repeatedly that I can’t date a black girl because it’s too triggering. I’ve said that I like black women a lot (ooooo chocolate) but when I see them I think of my mother and it frightens me. At this point when I look at her I don’t think of my mother. When I see a mutual friend of ours I see my mother but not when I look at her. I guess my concern is that if this grows into anything and there’s sexual contact I’ll end up freaking out.
The following 3 responses were to a video shown on The Onion. I removed one persons name because she doesn’t need to be involved in this.
Name removed
too much. unsubscribing now.sunnstone (me)
@name removed
Too much like the Jaycee Dugard story isn’t it? Too close to too many real stories.
Somehow I don’t see sex slaves,. murder and “sired children” by rapists funny at all. Maybe I’m just normal is all and don’t find these things funny. Give me a few years of being able to look the other way and pretend these things don’t happen, then I’ll give videos like this 5 stars.
Thank you for your voice too. May you always know right from wrong. This is wrong!SeriousPieEnthusiast
@sunnstone shut up faggotass nigger
Here’s the video that sparked the above responses.
(blog carnival subject)
We didn’t celebrate birthdays a child but if I did I think I would be offended by such a display of love and positive attention. There would be balloons and cake, punch and potatoes chips. There would be burgers grilling outside as my cousins ran around in party hats blowing those obnoxious horns. What I just described is a typical scene from the movies, the only reference I have to birthday parties. If you take that example then add my family in there the only thing one could feel is frightened. Besides, I don’t believe I’d feel special at all. While everyone looks dead at me and sings that infamous song out of tune I doubt I’d feel anything but exposed. We’re talking about the family that hurt me as much as inhumanly possible and they’re all focusing on me. I think I would have been frightened by it.
It’s important for human beings to connect and feel as if they belong. We want to know we aren’t alone and that what we’re going through doesn’t separate us from the rest of our peers. I believe this is why lists of famous people with disabilities are compiled. Since its Black History Month I decided to gather a list of African-Americans who have reported a disability or were a victim of sexual assault. As I gathered names and diagnosis I came upon several male survivors who are not black but I felt compelled to list them.
My lists include people we see on the big screen, in the news room, on the football field and in music halls. They are famous faces that fit in the crowd with no mark on their forehead saying, “I’m Bipolar” or “I’m Schizophrenic”. There are no scarlet letters written on the chest of these men and women marking them as abuse or rape survivors. Instead we see there faces and connect them with accomplishment. If we can see accomplishment in them maybe we can see it in ourselves.
Continue reading ‘Famous African-Americans with a Disability’
Because of the snow I was unable to get in to his office to talk to him so we had our session over the phone. We talked about the movie The Tie That Binds and how I was uncertain which part of the little girl’s behavior was real and which part was Hollywood made. The little girl talked to her dolls and confided in them. Dr. D said little kids do that with their toys. That made me sad because I never did that, it never crossed my mind to. I mean, I didn’t have dolls but I wonder if I had them if I’d have talked to them or slept beside them. Would I have named them? Who knows.
We talked about how children identify themselves as children because they’re under the authority of adults. That’s not the only reason but that’s one of them. I commented that maybe the reason I never saw myself as a child was because my authority figure was a bit different. I didn’t have a set bedtime. I missed school whenever she felt like picking up and going somewhere just because she wanted to that day. I didn’t do a load of laundry, a sink of dishes or many household chores until my sophomore year in High School. Past the 2nd grade I wasn’t required to clean my room. I didn’t have the regular limitations or guidelines other people my age had. What I had was a regimen of “vitamins”, “trauma training” and incest. I didn’t learn to cross the street on my own until my sophomore year which is the year I went to live with my English teacher. What an awakening that was.
All images are © to Sundrip Journals. All rights to the images and ALL content on this site and on all Sundrip Journals belong exclusively to the artist. If you send me an email it is not the same as asking for permission. You must receive back affirmation of use. Without the affirmation you cannot use my images or works in any fashion commercially, non-commercially or for personal use. This means you cannot upload, download, save to your desktop (including as wallpaper), reproduce or alter any image or written works on Sundrip Journals. Please remember my work is not public domain. The purchase of art does not transfer the right of reproduction to the purchaser.
Copyright 2009-2010 @ Sundrip Journals. All rights reserved.
Thank you for visiting Sundrip Journals.
See also the Directory for a listing of all pages under the name SUNDRIP.
Galleries on the SUNDRIP - Art for Life website
FAQ and Info
Innocence Gallery
The Good Feeling Gallery
The Fantasy Gallery
The Visionary Gallery
Women of Strength
Faceless Beauty
Postcard Gallery
Click the sunflower below for print offers at my ETSY shop
RECENT COMMENTS