I'm sitting in a 24/24 McDonald and the guys and galls on the next table are too loud and someone in the crow wishes me to join in, and somehow I ended up being asked:
"Is it the night or day for you?"
I say, "the day;" but what I really wish to say was "it is still a nightmare!"
We had this economic instructor who, on the question of public economic stimulus policy, especially in regard to unemployment, would often bring up the idea that it incentives people to not work.
While it could be a point of debate as to what sort of social insurance policies by the government is more psychologically beneficial to its recipients and which one turns them further down the vicious circle of worthlessness and losermanship, on one thing, I couldn't be sold her bullshit perceptions: human beings do not have the psychological tendency to hand over their self-esteem and self-worth in return for a minimum wage. Aside from how high or low such a minimum wage should be to buy out someone's moral principles, even for individuals who have no moral principles, being useless is the ultimate social death sentence. It is even evident in the research on employee motivation where the idea of feeling worthy is linked to efficiency and a few other measures important to the employer.
I don't wish to sound ungrateful or ignorant for how far I've come regarding the recovery from my collection of damages – thanks to Allah, but it is still endlessly emotionally challenging for me to accept my current circumstances.
Parts of it is because I put saving, or better said, turning around romantic aspirations about this or that individuals my first priority, while sacrificing my own life and every opportunity of success open to me during this past, almost decade. But I was so dependent on being loved and the environment in which I had grown up had forbidden me regarding having admiration about individuals I really would love because of their professional activities ... so, I burnt all my chances.
And the world out there is a cruel place. Nobody, not even the very institutes that act under the non-profit label or are governmentally funded would look at you and see someone who has had some horrible childhood events and as a result no boundaries and can't protect himself against being betrayed, cheated, mistreated or anything else. So, you end up receiving as shittiest a treatment as possible!
I'm not saying they are not kind people out there and in every one such institutes, but not having recovered from traumas, you're like a magnet for being further abused, in every manner possible.
It's unimaginably painful to see Babbel this successful, knowing we could have been much better than them [Generally speaking, not that things couldn't go wrong, or we wouldn't need the Lord's mercy], or to see Google having had implemented the idea I was pitching them to some degree, but never even remotely offered any compensation, not even a line of credit to me.
And I was so sincerely disinterested in success. So, I didn't care. When you're suicidal on a 24x7 basis when even in your dreams you are committing suicide, then there is no looking forward to being successful, less so to actually care about how to become that.
What would success mean to a dead man? And then there was nothing, nobody, no institute, not even any of the women I was interested in, or the women who might have been interested in me, nobody stood around me long enough to notice I'm burning my opportunities by my own hands and there is seriously something going on inside me that needs attention.
I mean, you don't expect a future wife to be your therapist first, but it would have made an endless difference to have someone who instead of comparing me and competing me with other possibilities of romantic partners for herself, would have settled her doubts behind the scene and instead of constantly being pitted against other men [or women in one or the other cases], to actually expect someone to make progress because he loves you;
I'm not trying to propose to abandon all fashions of judgment about your romantic partner or make someone take your love for granted, but someone who has been raped in the fashion that I have been, it makes no sense to have such expectations on them.
I'm not trying to advertise devoting your romantic resources to depressed men, but if your expectation on a childhood rape victim is to care about your flirting with this man, or that other super successful cool kid who asked you out, or whatever else ... I mean, you have someone who is deeply shattered regarding their own self-worth, regarding their ...
I don't want to list the challenges here, because not every child has been raped at the age I was and not by individuals I was, so, I don't wish to terrify others who come from somewhat similar childhoods about what kind of struggles they might face. Most people wouldn't have my struggles and by "people" here, I'm referring to "childhood rape victims" not "young adults"; childhood rape victims.
I didn't know I was raped, and then I didn't know what its side-effects are and by the time it had already sunk in me a little bit, I was already extremely mistreated by a romantic interest, so, I really couldn't see that it wasn't as much my fault as it was the extremely wrong perception on my end to want to have any kind of romantic success with a woman who has little appreciation for a childhood rape victim.
By "appreciation" I don't mean "hashtagging #metoo" or whatever else, I mean, "if you don't see the sign of childhood rape in someone's behavior," then where the fuck was your appreciation!?
It would be a joke to say "oh, I have recovered thus far in spite of those romantic rejections," to be frank, it is bullshitting yourself to imagine without some kind of aspiration about love/attachment anyone can make any single step of recovery from my starting point. But there is little point in naming individuals and indirectly shaming others who were there and did nothing, or more often than not, their treatment ended up hurting me, as much as, or perhaps even more than, the initial romantic hope had been a motivation for recovery.
If I were to name names, I have to explain where I was, what I have struggled with and etc, but then, to whom? To people who were never raped? To people who can never understand what you have been through? If they could, they wouldn't be silent bystanders. I'm sorry, I don't buy the bullshit about "selfish gene" or what the fuck-ever the latest hype word about "selfishness" is.
We are biologically social animals. There is no escape from being there for each other! I'm sorry but that's your biology. Just as there is no escape from the God.
About both, you have the opportunity to deny them; about both, you'll one day face the consequences of your denial. Don't worry.
I have no words to adequately describe what I have been through in the past 12/13 months; In fact, the very fact that I can refer to them as "the past 12/13 months" instead of seeing it as a still open wound is a miracle of its own; May the Lord bless its co-initiator for the rest of her life. If He didn't want me to pray for her in such terms, He shouldn't have fucking not let her have such an influence, His business. I have no intention of promoting someone to god status by referring to him or her as "co-initiator".
Anyways, I decided to write this piece, just to help myself get on with a tiny idea about going after imitating the Intern in my professional life, at least for a little while, till I can gain distance from where I was this past year, if Allah will.
The Intern, not because I'm that old, but because, in most professional scenarios, I understand certain things more than even the boss, even the boss of the boss. There is no kidding that the idea about Google's search engine user interface improvement comes from me. So, playing the dummy in a work environment is not really my ultimate maximum possible contribution to a company.
But I'm not a top manager at Google, nor the ex-CEO of Babbel, so, I have to contend with being a nobody in the workplace, and given that these past years my main focus have been on personal recovery than professional success, I guess it makes perfect sense to contend with taking The Intern as my role model, as his most invaluable contribution to his workplace isn't his professional activities but the mountain of personal maturity behind his white hairs. Not that I have the same kind of maturity but what I have been through has provided a depth to my life which is not as common – by the Lord's leave.
May the Lord help me find the right internship and contribute something meaningful even if not remunerative.