I’m a big believer in self analysis. There is so much repression of painful experiences we humans engage in, it’s a miracle we’re not all crazy. In fact, I believe we are all a little crazy, even a lot crazy.
Maybe I’m projecting, but I don’t think so. Anyway, I’ve dedicated a large share of my writing to exploring my own repressed memories.
My biggest hang up still remains my high school years. I’m still plagued by feelings of rejection.
High school remains the biggest paradox in my life. The years, between fourteen and seventeen years of age, still baffle me.
My questions are, why was I rejected by my peers? Why wasn’t I elected into the clubs I valued? Why did I lose a student body election? Why didn’t I have buddies I hung out with?
My fears are that the causes of this rejection were, I had polio (a handicap), my personality was too cocky, and I wasn’t as cool as I thought I was.
What person runs for student body office three times and loses twice? I don’t know, I really don’t know. I was certainly well enough known, but I think in those cases it could have been because people didn’t like a couple of controversial things I did in public. Actually, it was the most controversial thing I did that got me elected the first time.
Ok, here I go. When I talk openly about these repressed memories, I don’t feel the pain of rejection. I don’t even feel that I was rejected.
So, what’s the answer? Was I rejected or wasn’t I?
That’s not the point.
The point is I have admitted I had repressed memories of rejection. I have openly talked about them, and as a result, the power of the repressions weaken along with my associated anxieties.
BUT, was I REALLY rejected? Yes, on occasion. I put myself out there. Rejection burns, but it refines too.
There were some nice victories to which I need to own up.
To my way of thinking, I also had this feeling of being the last man standing. But that takes me into another area of self analysis: my feelings of self inflation. That’s easy enough to figure out isn’t it? I’m compensating for my feelings of rejection. That’s why I feel like I’m the last man standing.
With all this admission, I feel like kicking back and enjoying life.
I feel no need to go out and accomplish anything. I’m chilled out. But now, I feel lazy. I need to go back to my exaggerated feelings of rejection, which caused me to overcompensate by feeling I’m the last man standing, which motivated me to work myself to death to prove my overly inflated sense of self worth.
Maybe I need to become a Buddhist and lose my sense of self, realizing it’s one big cycle of redundant self absorptions (selfishness).
P. S. Just to let you know, I’ve never accepted the idea I had a handicap. In the past few years, I’ve tried hard to accept my handicap, and work it into my essays, but it just doesn’t stick. It simply doesn’t take hold in my psyche. Repressed memories of rejection, then compensation, and now DENIAL. Wow.