Forgive yourself! Heal yourself! Ask for help if it seems safe to do so! Try!

"Instead of trying to repress me, my parents should always respectfully have asked: "Are you sure it's not even worse than you are saying it is, and that we are not part of the problem, Brad?"^[1]

"They put me off at the wrong stop when I awas born" (Doug Schaff)

Dr. Don Holmes Nix struggled to keep from being born into a family where he was destined to be fed with a silver spoon. They finally extracted him with forceps, fighting desperately to prevent being dragged out of paradise into the cold cruel world of upper middle class Oklahoma City (or wherver) with a father who for all I know may have been a small-time Fred Trump.

I seem to have heard I weighed over 9 pounds at birth so it may have been hard to extract me from the bomb bay of the woman who carried me, but I don't think I fought againt it, whereas, unlike Dr. Nix, had I known what was coming I would have had good reason to not look forward to it.

I need to forgive myself for having been born into a social surroud which chronically failed me, hurt me, retraded me, deprived me.... It's not m fault that they made me be so much less and much worse than I could have been with more suitable parents, and better teachers. My parents were victims of The Americnn Dream. My teachers at St. Paul's Illiberal Day Carcel for pubsecent male virgins except-for-omerta-sanitary-services-for-jocks were all members of the forces of occupation, lead by a commssioned officer: Headmaster [yes I had masters even though it wa after 1863 in USA] S. Atherton Middleton.

It's not my fault that my parents did not get thet mole removed from my chest, or that they had let me be circumcised, that they cut off flesh that could have provided me pleaseure while leaving flesh that could have killed me. (They were probably as passive dialtone(☏) lumps about me being circumcised as about Nurse Ratched violating the vulnerable back of my arm when I was about 8 years old. The lumpenparentariat.) It's not my fault that they failed to foster in me the self-confidence to demand them to get that damned mole removed before it messed up my mind. It's not my fault that they were my parents, that my father was clueness and my mother may never have mentally or emotionally got beyond 5.5th grade (biologically, she must have menstruated?).

It's not my fault that my schooling made it hard for me to undertand things because they coerced me to do their ass—ignments not encouraged me to examine nuance and context of [whatever], starting with the school context itself.

I am a dysfunctional product of dysfunctional world. I'm not my fault. If it is nobody's fault it still needs to be replaced. I would like to help but I have not been made an accepable offer for an appropriate position, and I will not willingly be anybody's free lunch until two physicians certify I am dead; then then they may all eat my corpse any wan they like, raw or cooked or do whatevver else they may want with it.

Please digress here to read one paragraph and then use your browser's back button to return here. You should be able to do that: Read this now.

Now let us critically study famous men and our fathers who were before us

Concerned parent or other peraon who can't mind their own business: "There's a hole in th sleeve of your shirt." Or: "There's a stain on your pants." Or something else that bothers them about me. Proper response: "I didn't notice that but now that you mention it, it sounds like a fine opportunity to practice not making a big deal about things, and learning to live with them. I really appreciate your concern."

Ever again i.e.:ever anew.

+2023.10.

11. No tears today.

12. No tears today, yet, either, but tearful times.

25. I can't cry, but I have added images of crying, e.g.

+2024.05.

28. Entierly unexpectedly, spontneously cried for several minutes at Silver Hill psychology test.

Not tears but important, too: L'esprit d'escalier

+2023.11.02. Due to my childrearing which wrecked my reflexes, I am often "missing the boat". But not only in replying to persons who disrespect me. Also: in reading a book I see something that tinterests me and I do not immediately mark it to be able to find it later and then I can never find it again.

This is happening to me now in reading "Storm of steel". Somewhere near the start of the text Jünger says he is writing something no other writer has said about the war, or something like that. I try and try and try to find the text again to mark it, and and I fail and fail and fail again to find it. Damn it! Damn "me" (i.e.: the me I don't deserve but my defective childrearing made me be)! I hereby resolve to [try to ← eee, I am already doubting my self] mark all these pieces of text immediately when I see them and not realize I should have marked them when I am many pages further along in the book its too late.

No more me making any more of this kind of esprit d'escalier failures which don't run any risk of anybody harming me for having hurt their precious feelings! But I doubt I will succeed, just like I doubt I woill be able to cry about it all.

+2024.06.16 v091

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⇒ The peremptory discourse of petty power

Footnotes

↑ Your Comment on Why My Fall Made Me Feel So Ashamed
The New York Times
11:23 AM (45 minutes ago) [+2023.10.24]
Your comment has been approved!
Bradford McCormick | New York
At age 77 years, I am trying to forgive myself for having had parents and school teachers who made me feel ashamed of myself. It's not my falut that I had childrearers who made me feel ashamed of myself. But this is difficult because I feel ashamed of myself. It's not my fault that I am what I am instead of who I could have been had I had better luck in what birth canal I came out of. Next step in this self-help program: crying about it all. I even have trouble asking for help from a clerk in a store bcause I was childreared to feel ashamed of myself. And then I ws supposed to socially adjust. I'm trying to become more social, which often means offending people instad oft avoiding social contact. Practice makes perfect, they say. I am trying(sic). Once many years ago I had an ugly boil on the back of my hand. This was back when companies had medical departments. The company doctor lanced the boil so I only missed one hour of work instead of all the hassle of goingt to the doctor. But I left it unbandaged so I could show it to everybody. I was practicing building self esteem. I am extremely "sensitive". People tell me to be less so. I should have had parents and teachers who, instead of telling me it was no big deal, always have asked: "Are you sure it's not even worse than you are saying it is, Brad? And is there any chance w have cotributed to the problem?" That's being social (not "socially adjusted").

Unfortunate for themself, the person who lacks one; unfortunate for others, the person that is one. Don't be an a**hole!

Glitzmas

Due to my repressive childrearing I am – still at age 75+ years – afraid to think what I would think. Our toxic introjects make the longest demands on us: they live forever (Sophocles, out of context); but I sometimes am able to recover it later: L'esprit d'escalier. I (BMcC) am always falling....

Beware o man thy grievous fall....