The Story of He

(the beginning)

'He' failed to be born simply because his mother's egg was just too tough for his father's sperm to penetrate. So 'he' was not conceived - which is a damn good reason for not being born. Never the less, his psyche/soul was already assigned, but not in-dwelled since there was no body to be in-dwelled into. Life, however, consisted of wandering around, unable to communicate with anyone but other similar non-in-dwellers like himself. Many of them happened to be females. Those of his kind did not have any specific organs of perception. They perceived reality as animals and small children do: in its totality. 'He1 hung around his would-be parents and siblings. There were seven of them born at once after his mother got pregnant with the aid of a fertility clinic.

Being able to read minds and perceive people's thoughts was actually bothersome. 'He' liked his own thoughts; which, as you can imagine, were fairly abstract; Concrete matters did not concern him much, In fact, they did not concern him at all. There was no use for them, you see. So, when 'he' experienced his wotrid-be father's rage or his would-be mother's fear, 'he' would be distracted from other things with which 'he' was occupied at the time.

On the one hand, 'he' wished to experience all the feelings these humans felt himself; on the other hand, 'he' appreciated the freedom his immaterial form gave him. 'He' enjoyed all the emotions picked up within the high voltage of the family's passions, including the orgiastic discharges from his parents' love making, or his siblings' masturbation (he wasn't indoctrinated with shame and guilt, like the rest of us), or the free floating tension and anxiety in the home before father came home from work. Many different stories 'he' could tell us.

One favorite is about a family that went for counseling. The younger twin was apparently shitting his pants so the family was advised to go for Family Therapy. Two people met them at the Clinic. The first one ('he' felt), was a large male, slightly bored, but kind of curious. The younger one exuded great anxiety and was probably a female but 'he' couldn't say for sure. Both watched the various members of the family as they arranged themselves about the meeting room - who sat where, with whom, and how. At some point near the end of the session, the counselors were of the opinion that the boy's problem had something to do with the explosive mix of his parents' relationship and grandma's interference.

"What do you do with your anger?" asked the senior therapist of the mother. "I swallow it", said she.

"And it comes out through the other end?!" retorted the counselor.

After the family had pensively left the Clinic, 'he' decided to stick around. This kind of place resonated with his mentality and way of seeing family reality - as one interconnected, (domino chain like) system.

'He' experienced a strange reaction (which for us may have been a combination of amusement and bitterness), when obviously turmdiled and confused parents would bring a child to the Clinic complaining that s/he wets the bed at night. "Doesn't that mean that the child is pissed off?" thought 'he'. "And wouldn't anyone be, living under that kind of pressure, with this kind of parents, being in their total control, being blamed for everything and eventually doing everything to attract attention?! Even negative attention - as long as they would stop yelling and shoving each other." Some children even called 911.

People of all ages marched in and out throughout the day, fighting strategically vicious battles between them. Those superb yet pointless battles, which stripped them of the Life Force, were usually inspired by the sad combination of a hard life and the "support" (cheering; rooting; egging on) of their respective families of origin. Some did not have any children to scapegoat, so they blamed each other.

Some mothers would form such a strong emotional alliance with the child/ren that the blame would be shifted onto another convenient being, usually the father. It was not uncommon that the mother would come alone with her child/ren and begin the session by saying, "the children are so traumatized by their father. He is violent /an alcoholic / a drug addict / a liar / inconsistent / a control freak.,..". The father of the children - if and when he'd be present - was either defensive, or threatening and offensive.

When a couple came on its own, the odds were about 9:1 that SHE had made the appointment. When her partner came to the meeting * he would do so reluctantly, remaining passive and/or defensive. He would even start his own counterattack, accusing her in trying to control him, misinterpreting his usually well-intentioned behaviour. Both of them would foolishly expect the therapist/s to take their side against the other.

Often 'he' felt lucky that he wasn't born. People were so pathetic. The novelty was wearing off. All of a sudden, a wave of sadness and fear washed over him.

"My God," 'he' thought, "emotions are contagious!"

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Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder