Living in the dis-world
By Jesse Donahue 2019©
Avow, to make known, to confess or admit. The most striking aspect of my life is the depth, the ever-lurking, unconscious presence of a sense of self that feels… disregarded and dissed from the realm of normality. I feel so utterly different from a life of being dissed. Dis-respected, dis-avowed, dis-connected, distant, dis-oriented, discontent, disregarded… just dissed. Asleep in the world, yet painfully awake to the pains of the dis-world, but still, living in the sleep time on this time around of ‘the journey,’ in this Human Experiment, or evolutionary pinnacle we are living.
The fundamental position of one’s self-identification is that I am not good enough, but you are. You must be, and I must not be, because I feel at my core dissed (disrespected). The standing personal, social persona, or mask, position is ‘nothing is wrong here.’ Who would I be if I tell the truth and show I feel not good enough, indeed, that something is wrong within me? How would you view me if I were to be truthful? How would I view you if you told me you feel dissed at your core, disrespected, fearful that I will not like you, thinking I will look right through you as if you are not even there? Are you afraid that I will not like you, not see you, or think you are unacceptable and not good enough? Are you afraid you won’t matter to me? Do you truly tell me who you are, or do you tell me and show me who you think you need to be, but not who you are?
Most people do not think along these lines, but I do. Is this the rabbit hole I am running to, Alice’s fall into Wonderland? Or is this a path to awakening? At least simply to the reality of what is true, authenticity. If it is not true, then what is it?
Am I more real than others if I speak of my not being expressively authentic? Or am I just dysregulated in the brain? Dis-regular mind gymnastics tearing a hole in the universe trying to find a sense of me, you, us in the cosmic cloud of my inner world of dis. The cosmic cloud within, like a fog blanketing our conception of who we are, what we see, the universe of inner and outer thoughts, conceptions; behold, we are all that is… consciousness.
We conceive in our mind, in the foggy murk of hiding from the universe, denying reality in the face of truth… the beckoning of an awakening. But who comes to see in life, over time, eons, who dares to see? Who summons the strength to see? Does it matter in the end? I still feel dissed. Isn’t that the point? Truth, finding the conception of my truth, my reality? Are you also searching? Living in the world of dis, the dis-world. See me, welcome me… love me. We are of the same consciousness. Does that not make us one, does it bind us together… all of us? Yet we fight so menacingly toward each other to keep the shroud of separateness in place. Locked inside our private prisons, creating and sustaining that wall between us.
What if we were to step out and instead of wielding a sword, we lay down our weapons and reach out our hand in the grace of nature’s love? Is the bridge too far to cross? Can we not at least meet somewhere in the middle?
Photo by Brett Patzke on Unsplash
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** Copyright notice. All of my writings are copyrighted and registered with the Library of Congress.
My name is Jesse Donahue. In 2015, at the age of 58, I took up writing, and since then I’ve written two novels, poems, and essays about my journey struggling with CPTSD. The essays, 50+, were an adjunct to journaling in therapy to amplify my learning and self-understanding.
My writings, which include therapy notes, poems, novels, and essays, are all a part of my ongoing personal therapy. Many of my essays are in a stream-of-consciousness style, unleashing, sharing, and delving into energies that continuously process in my subconscious. My writings, initially, geared for me and my therapist’s eyes only, began with my exposing my thoughts, fears, and feelings (or the lack of) onto paper… a journal of therapy notes. Then, with fear overcome and via a personal decision of choice, I shared them here with the readers. My essays, most all, originate from my weekly therapy notes. My intent and desire is to encourage readers to recognize traits in themselves and find a therapist if they are willing and able to do so. If you are in therapy, ask your therapist to read them and discuss what pertains to you. For some, it can be a long and difficult process over extensive periods to awaken to the unconscious issues that have us acting out in life. Our behavior can seem like dancing to a buried, invisible energy that we are not able to directly see or confront. It is my sincere hope that my insights will assist the reader in the process toward reaching a deeper self-understanding. Bringing the unconscious out into the light of self-awareness, understanding, and acceptance fosters self-love and the process of change.
My published writings with the CPTSD foundation: *The Hidden Bugaboo. The Beganning. Twelve Days Without Coffee. Learned Helplessness. Cast Out of Eden by Toxic Shame. The Crumbs and The Banquet. What an Outside Appearance may Not Show. Obedience to the Light – Bombs or Love. Stepping Into the Shoes of Who You Are. Personal Honor, Integrity, Dignity, Honesty. Inspirational Tugging – Teachers. Codependency – Overriding the Monster of Self Hate. Surfing the Light Through the Darkness. We are but Storytellers. A Writer’s Brain – The Gift. The Highway of Worries. The Emptiness of Yesterday. The Man Who Lives Under the Bridge. Living in the Dis-World.
