It his is going to be a really challenge for me to even organize, so I need to take advantage of some technical skills in order for it to make sense to even myself. I’ll be utilizing #hashtags as a means to group, pair, and organize this entry. I’m making links to references at the bottom and with link appropriately for myself.

The Samskara

In Indian philosophy and Indian religions, samskaras or sanskaras (Sanskrit: संस्कार) are mental impressions, recollections, or psychological imprints. In Hindu philosophies, samskaras are a basis for the development of karma theory. In Buddhism the Sanskrit term Saṅkhāra is used to describe ‘formations’.

I have been searching for the longest of time what my seed to many, if not all of my troubles stem from. My latest question that I asked from both my mom and sister was, “I’m looking for an instance in our single digit age where I was reprimanded for being self or not thinking of others.” Both my mom nor my sister were able to think of anything that could aid in this discovery.

So then why am I obsessing over this question #OCD?

A lynchpin was noted for future therapists conversations that would enable me to work backwards from. In my early to mid teenage years, my mom shared with me a story between my grandmother and my sister. Angela was about 3 years old when she said to Nonny that she wishes she was 100 years old so that she would be dead so she doesn’t have to play with me any more. At the time, I was not aware of such an event, nor how impactful this would be for me as an adult, but here we are.

My sister would be 3 years old starting March 5, 1980. At that age, I would be 4 years old, having my birthday on December 14, 1979. In order to fit that timeline, whatever happened that would make her say such a thing would have to have occurred between March 5, 1980 through March 4, 1981. December 14, 1980 I would turn 5 years old.

Through the decades of therapy, I’ve understood that even the smallest of un-resolved feelings can snowball and fester inside of us. For 40+ years, the brother-sister relationship has been one of polar opposites. It has been toxic mud slinging from both of us. I have been trying to repair this relationship for almost 10 years now to no real success. I have to find out why.

In Relation

My sister has always resented me since we were little. I have always thought for the longest that my sister wished she was an only child. She never wanted anything to do with me. Me though? I was more than willing to do whatever I could to do things with her.

This is the earliest happy memory I have with her. I may be 3 years old at this time. We are only 15 months apart. I’m not entirely sure where her resentment stems from her perspective, but I now wonder if the chocolate incident started it all for her. There’s a ‘not so fond’ memory that my grandmother had of her when she was 3 years old where she said, “I wish I was 100 years old so I don’t have to play with him any more.” If it wasn’t the chocolate situation, I wonder what else I could have done for her to build upon this hatred of me. This young relationship challenge is rooted in my #AD.

I don’t want to go to NC to not be myself. Why do such a thing? Why is feeling this good is so wrong, so much so that I start to self-sabotage.

The Dream (11/6/2022)

I don’t remember this dream in its entirety. It was about 1:45am when I woke up from this epiphany. Epiphanies are relatively rare occurrences and generally follow a process of significant thought about a problem. Often they are triggered by a new and key piece of information, but importantly, a depth of prior knowledge is required to allow the leap of understanding.

In my dream there were many people in my life who kept coming in an out. There was someone in my dream who I don’t know who he was, but every time he appeared he would disappear. When I finally confronted him, I was able to ask him, why are you avoiding me? He said Andy Love said that I should talk to you but I’m afraid of what you’re going to say. Then he’d run away.

That’s odd.

There was this beautiful woman in my dream that I had a crush on. We would go out, have a great time, dinner, movies, all the “right” things. Little did I know that she actually liked a friend of mine. I don’t know who this friend was, but I remember feeling resentment with her. Like I was being played a fool. She never talked to me about this guy until months after we were dating. Least, I thought we were dating. When I approached the guy she liked, he said that he liked someone else. I felt bad for her, so I kept hanging out with her, not changing a thing in my behavior. She was getting pissed off at me because she was treating me like shit, but regardless how she was treating me, I was treating her like a queen. She would say to our friends, “I can’t get through to him. Thomas, I don’t like you. Why are you spending all this money on me?

That’s odd.

Then I ran into London. I remember picking her up in my arms, swinging her around in the most joyful way. I then let go of her and poof, she disappeared.

That’s odd.

That’s when I woke up. What the hell is going on?! At this time, I started talking out loud in this half sleep / awake dream like state. I remember looking at the time on my watch to see what time it was.

For the next hour and a half, I was in this type of trance. I was in this really weird rabbit hole and wanted to figure out where this was going to take me. I knew my dream had something to do with this and I had to get this processed so I could get back to sleep. I was tired. It’s my day off.

Lets start with the fact that I was talking out loud. Why do I talk out loud?

This is thanks to my mom. I remember as a very young kid my mom saying to both me and my sister, “Be quiet, I can’t hardly hear myself think.” My young developing brain interpreted that as a very horrible experience. You can’t hear yourself think? Well, when I think, I’m going to talk out loud so I CAN hear myself think #gifted. I still do that do this day. In fact, inner monologue is horrible. I can’t stay focused on just one thought #ADHD.

From that experience, I had a vision. A very vivid and clear vision.

I’m like, 4 or 5 years. Old. I’m old enough to make myself a bowl of cereal and pour the milk myself. Growing up, I loved chocolate flavored cereals.

• Chocolate Cheerios
• Chocolate Frosted Flakes
• Cocoa Krispies
• Cocoa Pebbles
• Cocoa Puffs
• Cookie Crisp
• Count Chocula

We weren’t “poor” growing up, but at the same time I remember mom saying to us kids all the time, “I’m not made of money”. When it came to the milk though, we would have the big 2% gallon of milk and rarely would we ever get a half gallon chocolate milk. Whenever I made my cereal, I would make it and add chocolate milk. I don’t know if it was my mom or my first step-father (Clay) who realized that I was making my cereal with chocolate milk. You can’t put chocolate milk in your cereal. You have to think of others who want some.

In that moment, I started crying. I think I finally found my samskara. Even thinking about it now, it makes so much sense of so many things about who I am, how I am, my behavior, everything!

We stopped even having chocolate cereal. We switched to this variety pack that didn’t have anything to do with chocolate.

No more need of even having chocolate milk. It’s all my fault. I wanted chocolate milk with my cereal and if I drank all the chocolate milk, that would mean neither my mom, sister, or really anyone else could have any. This I firmly now believe is the earliest seed of hatred towards me that anyone effected could have. For fuck sake, I even remember later in my teens stopped eating anything chocolate or peanut butter of every kind. These brought me joy. I felt bad for feeling good.

My mom hated the word ‘weed’ or ‘marijuana’. The word we used to replace? It is chocolate.

My #gifted brain took the ‘we can’t afford’ approach of the gallon chocolate milk to, we get none at all. Now, when it comes to money, I never want to experience that sense of self hatred ever again. Because of my #HSP, I feel that hatred and resentment of others towards me. Even though I may not be mad myself, because they are mad, now I’m mad.