When I was a little boy my parents gave me a cocker spaniel puppy. He was a delight, a joy. We did a lot together. He even slept with me. I was only six and I swear he wet the bed one time.
Every day I was at school I could not wait to get home to my dog. He’d always greet me. But one day he was gone. My parents had given him away. Dad was being transferred from Fort Carson to Germany and we could not take my dog unless he was quarantined for a long time.
So, my parents gave my dog away without warning. I cried that night and many more nights. It hurt for a long long time. As a result I did not get another dog, my own dog until I found Diesel.
So, I cry a bit uncontrollably and it is getting better. People are so used to seeking me with Diesel that they either do not recognize me or I have to tell them I was forced to put my dog down. I took a lot of pictures on his last day and those show me some of the agony Diesel was experiencing. It was a tough decision.
We went to Germany and I turned seven shortly after we arrived. My mother “winged” me and my sister seeing my dislocated shoulder blade hammered on it and began what amounted to nine years of family beatings.
She would start it and fake it. She would scream loudly while she struck me and that would put it all in motion. Then my mother would come into the room and yell and me and strike me. That was followed by my father yelling at me, “How many times have I told you you don’t hit girls?”
They, the there of them all hit me. Beat on me.
Heck, I never hit my sister. I didn’t even hit her when I finally tried to hit her back. It was only when my bullying sister saw my first off the end of her nose she stopped hitting me physically. She went cross-eyed. She screamed and ran into her bedroom and slammed the door.
My sister was and remains a master manipulator. I avoid her. She is not a sociopath; nevertheless, she is sociopathic. She has the traits and tendencies but not the full blown condition.
One of the main signs of a sociopath is the “pity party.” In that the sociopath claims they are the victim. And what this does is render us defenseless as we try to help them. Therein lies the problem. We feel empowered by them and (as powerful people) we want to help them.
But our assumptions get the best of us and the sociopath manipulates us. Watch out for the sociopath’s “pity party.”
My mother used to tell me about the pity party all of the time. It’s too bad Mom did not take her own advice and maybe, just maybe consider that (since Mom was not there to see it) maybe I had not hit my sister and my sister was the one doing the battering.
I know you are going to say boys are bigger but that was not the case. I was indeed smaller and shorter. I know you are going to say girls can’t hurt boys but that is not true. No, not at all.
So, I was traumatized by the loss of my puppy and the beginning of family tradition in which girls were allowed to beat boys, my sister was allowed to beat me, freely. I shall say more when I start broadcasting on the dynamics of the American Family and the psychology which did us all in.
It really does start in the home. We can correct this. Especially if we become a nation of Bible readers and allow the mind of God (YHVH) to mold and to guide us. Then we can eject these sociopaths among us. We in our “DIEversity” have emboldened sociopathic cultures and America has become a breeding ground for sociopaths.
This is what we deserve. This is what we get. For turning our backs on God.
However, we truly can come back and “Build Back Better” if we build our foundations, the foundations of our culture and our society upon the teachings and the wisdom of the Bible. Besides, these days we have the advantage of knowing His proper name. We did not have that when I went to Bible School.
It is Yahweh and his nickname is Yah–just just the German word for “yes.”