Mindfuck 101
The mindfuck. I originally wrote it as two words. Thank you, Urban Dictionary for correcting me. One word. No caps. Definition #1 - "an idea or concept that shakes one's previously held beliefs or assumptions about the nature of reality." Definition #2 - "To experience a situation which calls into question the way your mind currently sees a certain idea or the world in general. Such an experience usually leaves the person stunned/speechless while he/she begins wrapping his/her mind around the new idea." And Definition #3 - "Something that seriously fucks with your brain, such as watching Fight Club every night for a week. Trust me on this." Or having one of the people closest to you try to convince you that you are crazy. But I digress.
Wait. No, I didn't digress. I sat down to write a blog/note about exactly that. For the past few months, I have been battered and beaten down by a steady stream of things that seriously fuck with my brain. And all originated with someone I truly cared about and assumed truly cared about me. As sad as it may seem, that's how it works best. Someone I didn't give two shits about couldn't get close enough to me emotional, spiritually, or intellectually to mindfuck me. I gave the person in question total access and they ran with it. By the end, every last bit of trust I had in them (and in myself) disappeared. My mind was blown and I dangled just inches from crazy.
To get a better understanding of the mindfuck, Let's answer a few pertinent questions. How and Why should cover the bases effectively enough.
How? - I can only speak to my experience. In my case, I was asked to believe a wild assortment of falsities. Lies, half-truths, sins of omission, they ran the gambit. When I refused to believe and began questioning, I was labelled crazy, obsessed, and insecure. When I asked them to prove their innocence, I was told that they wouldn't play into my crazy. I want all my readers to understand that I never did anything truly crazy. I raised my voice once and I never called names. I didn't tail anyone or engage in any kind of stakeout. I simply asked questions when things stopped adding up. And when the answers to those questions stopped adding up, I asked more. I begged for the truth and gave them a safe place to tell it. Time and time and time and time again, I was told there were no lies and that I was crazy. In fact even now months later, with all that I am dead certain that I know as fact, I'm still being branded crazy and obsessed, even though I made my final stand in the situation weeks ago.
Why? - I have no earthly idea. After four years as a psychology major and twenty-plus years observing and trying to understand human behavior, I'm as clueless as anyone. Self-preservation? Projection? Control? Dealing with a mindfuck of their own? Your guess is as good as mine. Because I care so much for the person in question, I really, really want to believe that they are being mindfucked and controlled by someone else. Now, that doesn't make them innocent; I believe whole-heartedly in free will. At some point, right is right and wrong is wrong. Strong character always stands on the side of right. A mindfuck is never right.
Suffice it to say, a mindfuck hurts.
The good news is that I'm no longer under their control and my mind is no longer being fucked. Oh, they are still trying, but I'm stronger now and I'm finding it easier and easier to resist. At one point, though, I reached the lowest point I have ever reached. I knew I wasn't crazy but you can only hear it so many times before you either start to believe it or the mere taunt drives you there. I am so grateful to my friends who kept telling me that I was right, that facts were facts and lies were lies. They stood strong behind me and held me up when I couldn't. Today, I am changed. I've shaken the mindfuck and I'm getting back to being the me I used to be.
Do I want to get even? No. I have no desire for revenge. The proof has a way of coming out in the pudding. And even if it doesn't, deep inside they know I wasn't really crazy. Moreover, I know I wasn't really crazy and that's plenty enough for me.
Wait. No, I didn't digress. I sat down to write a blog/note about exactly that. For the past few months, I have been battered and beaten down by a steady stream of things that seriously fuck with my brain. And all originated with someone I truly cared about and assumed truly cared about me. As sad as it may seem, that's how it works best. Someone I didn't give two shits about couldn't get close enough to me emotional, spiritually, or intellectually to mindfuck me. I gave the person in question total access and they ran with it. By the end, every last bit of trust I had in them (and in myself) disappeared. My mind was blown and I dangled just inches from crazy.
To get a better understanding of the mindfuck, Let's answer a few pertinent questions. How and Why should cover the bases effectively enough.
How? - I can only speak to my experience. In my case, I was asked to believe a wild assortment of falsities. Lies, half-truths, sins of omission, they ran the gambit. When I refused to believe and began questioning, I was labelled crazy, obsessed, and insecure. When I asked them to prove their innocence, I was told that they wouldn't play into my crazy. I want all my readers to understand that I never did anything truly crazy. I raised my voice once and I never called names. I didn't tail anyone or engage in any kind of stakeout. I simply asked questions when things stopped adding up. And when the answers to those questions stopped adding up, I asked more. I begged for the truth and gave them a safe place to tell it. Time and time and time and time again, I was told there were no lies and that I was crazy. In fact even now months later, with all that I am dead certain that I know as fact, I'm still being branded crazy and obsessed, even though I made my final stand in the situation weeks ago.
Why? - I have no earthly idea. After four years as a psychology major and twenty-plus years observing and trying to understand human behavior, I'm as clueless as anyone. Self-preservation? Projection? Control? Dealing with a mindfuck of their own? Your guess is as good as mine. Because I care so much for the person in question, I really, really want to believe that they are being mindfucked and controlled by someone else. Now, that doesn't make them innocent; I believe whole-heartedly in free will. At some point, right is right and wrong is wrong. Strong character always stands on the side of right. A mindfuck is never right.
Suffice it to say, a mindfuck hurts.
The good news is that I'm no longer under their control and my mind is no longer being fucked. Oh, they are still trying, but I'm stronger now and I'm finding it easier and easier to resist. At one point, though, I reached the lowest point I have ever reached. I knew I wasn't crazy but you can only hear it so many times before you either start to believe it or the mere taunt drives you there. I am so grateful to my friends who kept telling me that I was right, that facts were facts and lies were lies. They stood strong behind me and held me up when I couldn't. Today, I am changed. I've shaken the mindfuck and I'm getting back to being the me I used to be.
Do I want to get even? No. I have no desire for revenge. The proof has a way of coming out in the pudding. And even if it doesn't, deep inside they know I wasn't really crazy. Moreover, I know I wasn't really crazy and that's plenty enough for me.
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