lacking normal function

Dysfunction-(dɪsˈfʌŋk ʃən) n.

1. impairment of function or malfunctioning, as of an organ or structure of the body.
2. a consequence of a social activity or structure that undermines a social system.

No matter how you spell it, “it” is definitely not functioning the way “it” was meant to function.

Definition Number 1: “lacking NORMAL function”.

Such an odd definition;  what,  exactly is “normal”?

Who or what is the deciding factor with regard to what is “normal”?

From my perspective, “normal” = “Dysfunction”

A Paradox?

When I look at my life in retrospect,and take into account all of the people I have known…Those I have loved, liked, disliked, hurt, been hurt by, wanted to hurt, feared, was feared by, inspired, and was inspired by…They all had but ONE thing in common: they were not “normal”.

I came to this understanding through a series of (not so) logical thoughts & memories.

Why? you may ask, would anyone waste their time on such a frivolous thing?

Ahh, my friend, the answer is not an easy one to put into words, my best description: Cerebral Intercourse.

Most of my life I tried to be “normal”. (or at least look like I was!)

This was not an easy task folks, because the reality of the situation is this: I had no idea, nor do I now, of what “normal” is.

How is a person supposed to act like a “normal” human being if they have nothing to reference?

In my youth, “normal” was:  “put a smile on your face, and hide the bruises/cuts/bumps/scratches/tears the best you can”. If someone saw a mark on my little body, “normal” was: “I’m a klutz, I fell, or I ran into, or I was wrestling with my brother, or it’s nothing, I just bruise easily”.

Let me sum that up for you: “Normal” = Pretend, lie, smile (even if it hurt like hell to do so).

I was passive as a child. I shut my mouth and did what I was told no matter what, as to avoid being the outlet for someone’s rage.

I had strong views, strong feelings, strong opinions about everything, but opted to bury them deep inside my castle.

I hid them well, behind a heavy Gothic door which had several deadbolt locks, a drawbridge (which could only be lowered with the secret password, that only I knew) and a shark infested moat protecting it from ever being opened (except by me)

I filled that castle with so much stuff that eventually it was bursting at its seams, unable to contain anything else.

The day my castle exploded, was the day I understood what acting “normal” had done to me.

Like a Phoenix, I rose from the ashes of that horrible day when I left “normal” in the charred remains of all that I used to be.



3 thoughts on ““Normal”

  1. Been there, dealt with that. The basics may be the same, but it “feels” different for each person. Equilibrium will be found in the most obvious places, like the unconditional love of a dog. Having a living being totally dependent on you gives life a deeper meaning than grasping a past filled with despair, a focal point for the best feelings in life. Love, trust, hope, friendship, and a true feeling of peace.

    Liked by 1 person

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