Blog,  The Mind

“Random” childhood memory has been steering my life

I’m in a state of pain, hurt, regret, anger and frustration and a feeling of complete aloneness.

I am not alone in my life, and behind all of these feelings, I am feeling really good.

But I’ve been digging in my past, and things have surfaced (again), that have steered my life up until now.

As the Feel Good Rebel I claim to be, my aim is to feel good. And I’ve realised that I’ve been sabotaging my own feel good-ness forever.

I have felt unsafe when I feel “too” good. It has been dangerous to me to feel good. So the only way to alleviate that, is to sabotage myself, when I feel “too” good.

Example one

I found shuffle dancing last year, and had immense fun learning some new moves. I really enjoyed shuffling for about an hour or more a day. I had a little spot in my living room, where I could dance.

Short after finding shuffle dancing, I felt the urge to move around in our apartment, so I could have a quiet work space in the former bedroom (the only other room) – so now we had a bedroom and living room in one, and I had an “office” in the bedroom.

The result was that I removed my dancing space. I made sure (unwittingly) that I didn’t have a space to dance, so I stopped dancing.

Dancing was magical and fun to me.

Example two

I have managed to manifest the coolest jobs ever! I mean, seriously. I am a creative person, and I love challenges – so costume making is the best job in the world for me! I really love it!

I have a TON of fun, when I create things I’ve never created before, and challenge my creativity.

Which is why, I find a thousand excuses NOT to work, up until the last moment each day. In order to feel “suffering and pain”, and make sure that I don’t have too much fun. Because having fun is unsafe for me.

I make sure I’m up late in the night, in order to feel really tired the next day. Oftentimes I just scroll mindlessly on social media, just to keep myself awake.

I make sure to give myself inhuman deadlines in my head, like “Sleep until you wake up, spend some time on yourself – do make-up, exercise a bit, meditate, have breakfast & coffee, and then do these 5 tings (like major “sew a dress” kind of things) before 2pm. Otherwise I am a failure.” And when I get up at like 10 or 11 am, there’s not much time to do with.

And then I spend the rest of the day feeling defeated and utterly disappointed with myself. Which make productivity or creativity pretty much a no-go.


I have a pretty well developed ability to sabotage ANY fun I might want to have, and make sure I don’t feel TOO good.


Yesterday I found a reason for that – if not THE reason.

I’ve mentioned it before in a facebook post a long time ago, and I thought I had worked it out.

But alas – it’s back, and it’s hurting.

When I was a kid, I grew up in a not particularly comfortable home.

I had a stepdad who didn’t like me. My only friend was a bully, and hurt me. My mom was busy with my younger siblings, and didn’t really have energy for me. So I was pretty much left to myself.

I am not stating that I was having the worst childhood in the world – but I was definitely a neglected kid.

Basically I didn’t feel safe in my own home. I didn’t get the love and care I needed.

One day in 1st or 2nd grade, I was invited to a friend’s house after school. And I felt like it was a good idea. I felt a good connection with this girl, and thought it could be fun.

I knew that my stepdad was having a course or lecture that day, and would be home late. Somehow I believed I wasn’t allowed to visit – don’t know why. But I visited, and aimed to be home before late afternoon.

I had the most magical day, had fun. And I remember her house being idyllic and safe. It felt like a magical kingdom that I was visiting. I had fun, I felt good and I felt safe.

The time to go home came about, and I left. As I had never been there before, and being a kid of 6-7-8 years, I got lost. It wasn’t far from home, but I didn’t know the roads. So I started crying, feeling helpless. And a nice lady came to my aid, and asked if I knew someone she could call. We went to a payphone (it was waaaay before cellphones) and called home – I still know the number today (trauma, anyone?), and it was my stepdad answering.

He came and picked me up, and I was scared out of my wits, because I had thought he’d get home later, and wouldn’t know of my little adventure. But it was HE, who came. And I remember getting in the car, and I got a slap across my face, and I shit my pants.

I was so scared!

That is the extend of my memory. I have no recollection of my mother in this. I have no recollection of getting explained what happened, or why he hit me.

I just remember feeling really scared and wrong and bad, and more scared.


Today, I have a bunch of patterns, that stem from this experience.

I make sure, that I don’t feel TOO good. Or have TOO much fun. I make sure I make everything just a little uncomfortable or hard. In order to fend off the potential backlash for having chosen myself and my feel good-ness.

I make myself available for EVERYONE else but myself, because if I do what others want me to do, I can’t choose wrong, and get the bad consequences. I make sure to put myself last, because it’s DANGEROUS to put myself first.

There are probably more patterns, but I’m just getting started on this one – I’ll keep you posted. 😛


So before I chicken out – I’ll post this post, and then go do my JOB, which is the most fun job in the world, and I’ll fucking enjoy it now!

Fuck you mom and stepdad! I’ll clean up your fucking mess now, thank you very much! I don’t want to or need to carry this around anymore!


Thank you for reading this much – and yes – I am an emotional wreck while writing this. Hence the “outburst”. It feels liberating telling my “parents” off!

Well – I’ll stop now – and start working.

Here’s to healing past traumas and healing old wounds! <3

<3 Parnuuna

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