Let’s take a break from shattering those mind noodles, shall we?
After all this author has been putting y’all through a lot considering the recently discussed topics!
So just kick back and relax as this author walks you through the experience of severing any and all connections with family and friends to establish a new life.
TL;DR it was hard, but totally worth it.
Well my malignant narcissistic mother refused to work with this author to create a balanced relationship that actively respected the boundaries of those involved.
Not to mention the fact that other family members ridiculed the author for having the nerve to stand up to an authoritative figure with the reasonable demands of being treated as a human being.
Oh well, it was their loss in the end.
This author finally put his foot down and just stopped showing up to family gatherings. He changed his phone number, said farewell to those he shared a connection, and then took all of the trinkets that served as reminders of his former life out to the woods to burn.
The ashes and smoke represented the breaking of ties, fellowships, bonds – you get the point.
A month had passed and the author had succeeded in switching his routines to found something new altogether.
He accomplished this by wearing anything but black since that was his favorite color. It allowed him to hide in plain sight among those who readily opened their hearts to the world at large.
For its shadows concealed the pain he had carried for so long.
However, blues and greens and whites overtook the author’s wardrobe.
In a sense they symbolized the reawakening of the flora awaiting the approach of Spring.
This in turn elevated his disposition for a time, thus enabling the author to further cleanse himself of the sludge that caked his body all those years.
The proverbial accumulation of repressed emotional garbage that hindered his ability to feel grounded and carefree as most seemingly did around him.
Overtime he came to enjoy the smaller things.
The Sun extending its warm rays across his face.
The dancing leaves bristling in the wind, enveloping his body as he walked among them.
The falling rain as it splashed atop the windshield of his car.
The world was alive, no matter how dead the author felt inside.
For breaking away was akin to ripping a tree’s roots from the soil they anchored themselves since the seeding first reached towards the surface – breaking through to embrace the light of day.
Time passed and his world changed with it.
Letters were sent as pleas for this author to return, although he usually disposed of them by using creative methods.
Ripping, burning, shredding, or saturating them in his own excrement for an evening before being flushed down the rabbit hole.
He eventually found peace and harmony, though it took him longer than he preferred.
But alas healing runs its course on its schedule.
For we are just monkeys who know how to create iPods, toasters, and precision-guided missiles.
Sophisticated animals who live within the confines of group-think.
That is the notion that it takes a village to raise a child.
Communal needs and bonds are vital components to creating a life of wonder beyond measure.
Although it must be known that we are born alone, and we will die alone.
For that is the price of temporarily taking up residence in this universal turd most call reality.
Ladies and gents, let’s walk the boulevard together…
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