Sent myself to my room

Before I started counseling, I recognized that at times I would get raging angry.  I knew my anger was out of proportion of the incident.  I would send myself to my room.  I placed a blood shot eye TV vegetable with fat lip in front of my door.  Fair warning I was not reasonable, not even close.  Cool thing about counseling I haven’t needed to use the stuffed tomato in years.  However, this week I needed to send myself to my room.  Months of restrictions, not being able to travel to visit my children that live far away piled on top with the rioting/looting masquerading as ‘peaceful demonstrations.’  I felt like months of  people in high places scamming, gas lighting, and manipulating the World.  I am in it.  I am beyond pissed.  I took time this week to analyze why my anger is at such an unhealthy level.  I allowed myself to remember.

My mother was obsessed with the news.  Not that she did anything about any of it she listened to it making dinner and since I had to help with dinner I had to listen to the news.  1965 Watts Race riots blared for days.  I watched helplessly as children were shown being hurt, homes burned, it was horrible and made a huge impact on me.  I listened to my parents, what I now know as bigoted comments.  I absorbed this information and spewed it at school one day.  I don’t know the name of the teacher but the person really brought me up short and chastised me in front of the whole class.  I was embarrassed.  But instead of blaming anyone, as a teenager I read Dr. Martin Luther King’s “I have a dream” address.  I read a biography about him.  No internet then so I found every book the school library had, To Sir, With Love, Black Like Me, and Malcolm X.  The librarian tried to talk me out of Malcolm X.  My views changed from those of my parents.  I paid attention more I tried to talk with Black students, they made it clear to me, I was too white to talk to.  I felt at a loss then and now how to help with something that I see, I hear but I don’t know how to help.

We moved around a lot.  We spent years in Washington state, Texas, and California.  I see, I hear but I still don’t know how to help.  I kept these things in my heart and tried to teach my children the precepts of Dr. King that we judge people by the content of their character and not the color of their skin.  Watching my children I believe I succeeded.  So why am I so upset now.

I spent 10 years in counseling.  I was raised by parents that wanted only boys in the family.  My mother’s last conversation with me was why she felt self righteously justified in hating me.  I know what it is to be hated.  I had a boss that hated me.  His goal was to get me fired by fair means or foul.  It was tough being hated because I existed.  I spent many sessions talking about prejudice, hatred, and how to over come it.  Some thing stuck with me and I believe applies to this situation now was this, “As long as you are asking your abuser for validation and approval you will never get it, because they like the way things are.”  I’ve experienced this.  I went no contact with my mother, I changed my job, and I learned to stand up for myself.  I still don’t have answers for what is happening but I believe Dr. King was on the right track.  I gave myself days to grieve and accept that I still don’t have the answers and no one would listen anyway because I am too white.  So this week I sent myself to my room.  Deleted all posts and references to the rioting and the aftermath.  I am grieving that the rich white guy that funded the bricks and financed much of this is once again using blacks to meet his own cruel ends.  I believe as a nation and a people this is a huge manipulation and mind game by someone that cruelly knows how to bring out the worst in people.  I am not hiding from reality, I am accepting with a sorrowing heart that this will only deepen the hatred.

Martin Luther King, Jr. quotes from 

“Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.”



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