Wednesday, November 29, 2017

Born in Darkness but Submersed in Light

Can you be Light when you were born into Darkness?

That's the question on which I've been pondering the last few days. The inquiry was inspired by a comment someone made on Facebook that stated their life as a child paved their current path, which is a dark and hopeless one.
Of course, I immediately got to thinking about my own childhood as well as my current mind state slash perspective on life.

If I were to be completely blunt, my childhood was a bucket of shit mixed with a pot of crazy, scrambled with some ratchet and unbelievable. I came from the proverbial "dysfunctional family and broken home". This was my introduction into life. Yet, while I do suffer from Clinical Depression and Anxiety as well as a dose of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, I cannot say that I see my life as being hopeless or dark—without salvation or faith. Frankly, while I am not the most religious person in the world I am indeed spiritual. Perhaps it is that which allowed me to not fall into the pits of despair. I can't say for sure.
As far back as I can remember, whilst I had my "waves" of obscurity and negative thinking, at one point or another I rose above it and walked to the light. As a matter of fact, my sense of humor was a large contributor to my outlook on life. I mean, life was hard enough, so why take things so seriously and make everything about this universal conspiracy to destroy your life?

Some time ago I endeavored to start my autobiography. As of right now, I've still not finished it but I am inclined to share a snippet with you. I think it's important for you to understand what I mean when I say that I came from hard beginnings.
When I first started to write my autobiography a title came to mind, and it was a simple one ...

I suppose my aim at the time was just keep things simple and concise. What I didn't realize then was that my life has been anything but. Nevertheless, the title seemed to fit the book, so I've decided to keep it.
Following is an excerpt of my autobiography, "Just Me: And All the Me's In Between".


Copyright © Y. Correa 2017 
*No part of this work can be copied or altered.*

* When you learn to supersede the obstacles, life is a journey worth taking. *


I've spent the vast majority of my life desiring acceptance. Even when I thought I'd gotten past that, now, in true interception and a large degree of retrospect, I realize that while the urgency to want acceptance is no longer prevalent, the need remains. Curbed as it is by reason, irrationally speaking, these thoughts and sensations have become an innate, defining part of who I am and how I function.

If I'm to be completely uncensored and truthful about myself, I'm a needy woman at my core.

Not needy in the sense of wanting a man around me all the time, doting over or coddling me. Nor do I mean being a leech for attention, or a vagabond for affection. But, needy in the sense of a yearning for "just being enough".

To date, as much as I'd like to say that I know what it feels like to be enough for anything or anyone, I cannot. Etched into the fibers of my very DNA is the sensation that no matter how hard I try, my best, as great as it might be, is never sufficient to satiate the needs of those I am so adamantly trying to please.

Adding insult to injury, is when I've done my very best and the other party still finds fault with the product I deliver. Due to this, I am led to believe even more that my hypothesis is correct. “Try, try again” is an adage that I’ve become far to familiar with. The hyperbole of “you aren’t enough” lies in my translation of others’ response to my most candid attempts at pleasing them.

I yearn to be accepted, wholly and without prejudice for all the things that constitute me. The good, the bad and the ugly and everything in between. From my best virtues to my worst faults. From my cooking to my flossers—only my best friend knows what I mean. An inside joke, if you will, but true nonetheless.

My faults, though many, are only a tiny portion of who I truly am. Me ... the real me, is so much more. And, sad as it may seem, very few have delved deep enough into my heart and soul to find the hidden treasures.

This, inevitably makes me look to the past to find a single moment in time when "just me" was enough. I'm hard pressed to find such a moment.

In this, my autobiography, I will divulge every bit of who I am and pray that I am freed of judgment and seen as an inspiration to those that might be going through or have gone through similar things in their lives.

Nevertheless, personal growth comes in the most unexpected of ways, if you learn how to look at life differently—or at least try.

Chapter One

Me, the Baby

In time, I’ve learned something—a truth that some cannot see, and many reject—everyone is damaged somehow.

This is the truth of life.

Now, to quantify the damage would be like fishing for a flake of gold in the ocean. Virtually impossible, highly unlikely, and extraordinarily noxious. The danger comes from the fact that most people do not want to air their dirty laundry, therefore, getting to the heart of pain can be painful.

What there is, however, is the ability to perform at a higher level than some. To operate regardless of the impediment. Some of us are simply higher functioning. Others, not so much. Of course, all of this is contingent on the level of hardship and/or damage of the individual.

The former is the story of my life. I learned how to function highly in a counterproductive and counter-conducive environment.

From whence did my strength derive?

From the constant inner voice that told me that I needed to push forward. Period.

I’ve concluded that this does not come from choice, but from the lack thereof.

When a person is left with little to no choice, the result is strength as there is no option but to press on each and every day. The alternative would be to not. And, for a person like me, in the circumstances that life dealt me, there was no alternative.

It reminds me of a line from the movie, “The Pacifier”; life says, “It’s MY WAY, no highway option.” This sums up the entirety of my existence, methinks. What I had to learn how to do was go with the flow and make choices that would change the outcome. All of this while dealing with circumstances that in any other situation would leave an individual in a very bad place; mentally, emotionally and physically.
So ...

I suppose in the grand scheme of things, I can't help but ask myself ...

Can one be born from the Darkness yet live submersed in the Light?

I would like to believe that, yes, that is possible. You see, for all of the heartache and hardships that I've endured in life I can only ever see myself  NOW (at this point in my life) as a beacon of light. I cannot sit and wallow in self-pity and self-hate any more. As a matter of fact, I refuse to. I can no longer harbor resentment to those whom have wronged me. At the end of the day, it does me no good. Do battles arise? Do I ever doubt my ideology? Do I ever question the Universe? ABSOLUTELY. I would be an all out liar if I stated otherwise.
Yet, your victory lies in your viewpoint, as does your defeat.

You can have a wavering moment and still seek enlightenment. You can be momentarily bound by deception, disillusion, discomfiture, even disappointment ... but, you and only you can opt out. You can choose "to not" or "to, to".
That is to say, "Not going to" or "Am going to".

I am NOT going to pity myself.
I am NOT going to blame the world.
I am NOT going to blame my childhood.
I am NOT going to let them influence me.
I am NOT going to allow that to consume me.

I AM going to succumb to negativity.
I AM going to listen to what they tell me I am.
I AM going to live frustrated at the things I can't change.
I AM going to harbor pain over what's happened to me.
I AM going to refuse to move forward in my life or transcend the unseemliness of pain.

Oh, it isn't easy! Hell, no, it isn't! But it IS possible.

I'll be quite honest with you. There are scars that will stay with you your entire life. Many of them will get nipped and reopened—they may bleed for some time. Trauma is called trauma because it hurts. It originated from the Greek word "traĆ»ma" which means wound. With time wounds can heal but scars remain.

I'll put it to you this way ...


Cocoa butter doesn't make the scars disappear but it does make them less noticeable, a bit more comfortable to live with, and smoother than before. Plus, the pleasant smell attracts good things.

Stop blaming and start healing.

Some things linger forever, but it's up to you to use that for good or for bad.
The best thing about living above the trauma is the view.

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