Carmen's Psychicdonut.com Blog

I just wasted over ten years of my life being out of shape. I think the last time I worked out was in my mid to late 20s and I always had a really good reason to not go back to it. I felt that the stories about your metabolism slowing down were probably just scare tactics from the “health nuts with an agenda.” Then I turned 30 and yes, my metabolism slowed down. But there still wasn’t a whole lot of reason to be worried. I gained weight fast, but I lost it equally as fast, most of the time. Plus, I worked out  my brain! I read tons of books, learned about different philosophies, sciences and studies, I started having an actual career vs. just a job and soon, I no longer paid any attention to my body at all. On top of it, I started smoking when I was about 30.

TEN years went by! I turned 40 and noticed that I had gained more weight than I cared to acknowledge. My metabolism had slowed down to a crawl! There was no denying anymore, once I noticed that I needed to buy clothes in a size 14. I always had my personal “maximum density” rule, and I was horrified when I saw my wedding pictures. My face, the one thing I had always liked, looked bloated and fat. So did my arms. I didn’t feel all that  great, I had no energy, I was often annoyed for no apparent reason, my shoulders and neck started bugging me again, so did my back and hips and I felt definitely not attractive anymore.

My entire life I had decided that the body was just a stupid vessel I hated, and therefore deserved the least amount of attention. When I hit 40 and finally found my happiness I was done with these idiotic thoughts. I made it a decision to be healthy and to look good. I started hypnosis for weight loss. This gave me this crazy compulsion to sign up with a personal trainer. I started working out with him and I followed his instructions to the t. Whatever he said, I did. I didn’t fight him, I didn’t argue, bitch, whine and complain, I just did it. This was incredibly hard. After 3 1/2 months of hard training I had lost about 15 lbs. and two sizes. I had also lost tons of inches on different  body parts, but what made the biggest difference for me was how I  felt in the head!

All the “bad” thoughts go away when I work out. I still hate it, and after not working out for the past month and a half, after moving back to Azusa, I just started again with a new trainer in Hollywood. He worked me so hard that I felt like puking. My muscles were sore for two days but it doesn’t deter me. My mind is what keeps driving me. When I get to the gym and start training, the stories of “I can’t” are wiped out. Suddenly, the philosophies and training I had when it comes to meditation are paying of. I can will my body to keep going, even when my muscles feel weak and shaky. The mind is definitely much more powerful than the body.

I have learned that in order to be the best I can be, my body needs to be in shape. I have learned that physical health also equals mental and emotional health. I have learned that my mind shapes my body, and that whatever I conjure up in my mind somehow gets matched by reality. I have an active image that I hold in my mind while training and find that my body works hard to match this image. I never believed that a great body is required to be successful. I was wrong! It requires physical health and well-being to achieve balance for the full package. When I am done with my work out, I feel euphoric, happy, content and bubbly. Working out and slowly crawling towards a healthy body has added so much to my general well-being that I finally understand, there is no way in hell I can be truly powerful, if I keep saying “I can’t.”

It is still a struggle. I don’t like gyms, I still dislike cardio, but the results are what keep me inspired. The truth is, when I dont’ work out anymore, I feel crappy. I am proud of myself, because I am finally taking care of business. I am doing the work and there is a lot of power in knowing that. I regret that I wasted my 30s sitting on my butt and making excuses, but on the other hand, I started doing something about it now and that is what counts. I cannot go back and change the past, but I sure as hell can change and will my future.

The story of this poor girl Phoebe just stuck with me. I am angered and outraged about parents who raise little monsters like that. And I remember these little jerks and bitches very well from my own school experiences.

Most people I know have actually been bullied. I don’t know if that means that I predominantly hang with the weak geek/nerd crowd, or if it simply means that I don’t know too many ass hats who treat other people like crap. Coming to think of it, I believe it’s latter. But what might contribute to knowing so many people who have been bullied in school, is the plain and simple fact that pretty much everyone who was bullied, turned out successful. My friends are all successful, and I don’t mean in terms of money or career alone. My friends are successful because they are amazingly smart and kind human beings. When I go back home to Germany and hear about the bullies I knew in school, every single one of them turned out to be a loser. The little princesses who sat on their high horse for being popular, have almost all turned into fat and ugly, or simply just ugly slobs, living not so happy lives.

I have often wondered about what turns people into bullies and here is what I remember, when I look back at the kids who bullied me in school. I keep finding the same common denominators for my bullies. Every single one of them was spoiled. They didn’t necessarily come from a broken home, like I did, but usually had both set of parents, who’d coddle them and gave in to every wish and whim. Whatever the newest toy or clothing fad was, these guys had it and showed it off. They were surrounded by groups of admirers who then were privileged enough to get to play with the newest toys, or borrow the newest clothes from King or Queen Ass Hat.

Not a single one of them was appreciative, had learned basic manners or how to be humble. They were spoiled rotten little jerks, who got whatever they wanted, were often only children (although one of my worst nightmares did have siblings) and felt a huge sense of entitlement. The poorer kids, those who were maybe a bit slower, or those who were super smart served as a constant source of amusement and means to feel powerful.

I remember one of my worst nightmares, when I was in 4th and 5th grade. His name was Oliver and he was the popular kid everyone had a crush on. I was raggedy Ann, coming from a super poor background, wearing hand-me-downs from my mother’s 40-year old co-workers, or whatever “fashion” she could find at K-Mart. I was quiet, I was a good student and class best in German and I was a mouse. I didn’t really have friends and spent most of my time in the library reading. All I was missing was thick, horn-rimmed glasses to complete the image.

This guy Oliver teased me relentlessly. He called me names, pushed and shoved me, and so did the other pretty girls in class. PE had turned into a total nightmare and I avoided it as much as I could, which wasn’t a whole lot.
I remember one day, it was right before German class and Oliver kept at it as usual. The more I tried to defend myself, the sadder or angrier I got, the more he laughed, until I snapped. I grabbed his expensive little bag with all his pens and pencils and threw it at him as hard as I could. He ducked, it hit the wall and the expensive $20 fountain pen he had broke into pieces. His face turned ugly and he hissed “your mother is going to pay for this, stupid cow.” This is when it hit me. There was no way my mom could afford paying for the pen, which meant I would get in huge trouble. I turned white and sunk onto my chair, hung my head and started crying. This is when our teacher walked in and asked what had happened. Oliver pointed his finger at me and yelled “She broke my expensive pen!” My teacher looked at me and gently asked why I had thrown his bag at him and I just sobbed that he had been teasing me again. This was the end of it. She looked at him calmly and told him that I would not pay for anything that may have broken and that she would like to talk to his parents about what happened.

A year later, when I switched schools I had another group of girl bullies teasing me, until I no longer wanted to go to school. I was never a girl who skipped school, so I still went, but started getting sick and completely withdrew. My teacher asked me what was wrong and reluctantly I told him that they hated me for being poor, for having a cleaning woman as a mom and no dad. He sent me home that day and apparently talked to them. He asked them if they weren’t ashamed of themselves to make fun of someone just because they were less privileged. After that, no one ever messed with me. They started accepting me, I started speaking up and the rest is history.

What I never understood is how parents would not know what little jerks they actually had raised. How they would look at their kids and think that they could do no wrong and that it was ok to mistreat and abuse others. I never got how lame commentary such as “kids will be kids,” or “I am sure it’s not as bad as she/he says it is,” keep going for decades. Do people really believe that buying their kids whatever they want, not teaching them rules, discipline or basic morals will serve them in life?

My mother was poor as hell but she taught me and my brother how to say “thank you” and “please.” We were taught to give up our chairs for an elderly person or a pregnant woman in a waiting room, or when riding the bus or tram. But above all, we were taught to not back-talk to an adult, to be respectful and courteous towards adults and figures of authority, such as cops, teachers and superiors. I remember how my mom would tell us, when walking down the street and trying to throw a tantrum, how the police man will come and arrest us and how such a basic thing worked. I also remember spankings. In other words, when my brother and I misbehaved, there were consequences!

I have been to homes with little children (no, not any of my friends) and see their little kid already turning into a jerk. Hitting people, back-talking, hurting the cat or dog, screaming whenever they don’t get what they want, while mom and dad look the other way and think it’s kind of cute. Good times when these kids grow up.

When I read the story of poor Phoebe my heart sinks. I know how unbearable and lonely the life of a child who is being bullied truly is. I know how it feels as if the only solution to all of it is dying. I get angry at the parents who raised these bullies, wondering if they were bullies themselves in school. I remember the little cliques I would encounter in clubs and the arrogance these girls would sport. I would watch how elitism is passed on within groups, the catty bad-mouthing others, the inauthentic hanging with whomever looks cool or seems popular and then I get scared. This is when I realize “Oh no! These people will probably reproduce. No wonder our society is screwed!” I watch these girls being bullies as adults, even though some of them were bullied themselves in school and wonder “have they not learned a damn thing?”

I tend to be an idealist. I tend to believe that everything will work out. Our planet Earth will be healed, we’ll grow a conscience, learn to be accountable, spread love and tolerance. Then I read Phoebe’s story and hang my head again. Maybe one day I will have children or a child. I swear, I will not raise an ass hat!

I am, by design, a very open-minded person. I believe in a higher power, simply because it keeps me in check, makes me a better person and gives me a sense of comfort. This does not mean though, that I throw away all rhyme and reason, any scientific evidence and just blindly follow. When I DO choose to argue a point vehemently, it is usually due to having had experiences or really having done my homework. I don’t blindly babble out of my butt! 

 I always wondered, is there such a thing as an evil force? Is evil a learned behavior, or is it something one is born with? Most importantly, is evil a “force” from an outside source like a god? What I found really baffled me, because I tend to think about things in absolutes or black or white. This, however, is still a gray area! 

 Studies have been done on evil. The results were actually pretty astounding. It seems that the human brain is hard-wired to know the difference between “good” and “bad” or right and wrong. When MRIs were conducted on people, facing basic moral dilemmas such as “you are in a war zone. You are hiding out in the basement with other survivors. The opposing army is searching the house for survivors. You are holding your infant, who starts crying. Will you smother your child to death for the greater good of the group, or will you keep your child alive, putting everyone at risk?” When presented with this question, the vast majority chose that they would NOT kill their child, no matter what the cost. Each time a question was answered, the same area in the brain would fire, suggestion that almost all humans are, in fact, hard-wired to know the difference between right and wrong. 

 Of course, there was the Stanford prison experiment that inspired the book “The Lucifer Effect – How Good People Turn Evil,” which showed that “perfectly good” people would turn not only bad, but absolutely evil, when being put in the right environment. Suddenly, these “good” guys would turn sadistic, cruel and desensitized. Or think about children. How many kids are dealing with bullies every day? Just think about that poor girl Phoebe Prince who hung herself. She literally was bullied to death. It sometimes almost appears as if “bad” is much more contagious in groups than “good.” It seems to be much harder for some to do the right thing, instead of following the rest with doing a bad thing, or simply looking the other way. Hence, it can be sad that “bad” can be taught or conditioned! 

 On the flip side of the coin we have sociopaths. These individuals stand out because they quite often come from perfectly normal environments. They did not necessarily endure abuse, bullying, or may have had it bad. Quite on the contrary, most sociopaths tend to be incredibly charming, witty and very charismatic. It seems as if they were ”born” with a certain defect, an evil gene if you will, and engage in behaviors or thought patterns that almost remove them from being human. Totally void of any form of sympathy/empathy, concern and love for others, they only engage in “friendships” that afford them whatever serves their agenda. They are unable to have friendships or relationships and are highly manipulative.  Oddly enough, this affects predominantly men. Two thirds of sociopaths are men and one third are women. There are numerous reasons given for becoming a sociopath. Some say it is a learned/taught condition, others say brain chemistry within the prefrontal cortex is to blame and the third kind is attributed to children who were diagnosed with conduct disorder prior to the age of 10. But then, how does a child end up with conduct disorder? And if brain chemistry is to blame, then why does it not account for all of them? So far, the studies have been inconclusive. 

Could it be that there is an “evil” force out there? Years ago I was briefly dating a sociopath. Prior to meeting him I did NOT believe in the concept of pure good or evil and felt that human beings were conditioned or chose to be either. Even when I remember back to this person I am getting chills. I had never met anyone without a conscience. To watch him in action was bone chilling. Seeing him manipulate people and situations, listen to crazy stories of him being a “warrior of light” while he was deliberately harming people was baffling. There is one part here that made me wonder about the possibility of evil. It was also the part that literally made me run for my life. There was a physical transformation when he would “go to the dark side.” And as stupid as I feel saying it, this was exactly how it seemed. As if he had stepped away and something else took over. His voice would change and his eyes would turn pitch black. I don’t do drugs or drink and I swear, there were numerous times when his eyes turned black. Not to mention the “energy” that would surround him. It literally felt as if the temperature had dropped and I would fear for my life. Very much like a gazelle staring into the eyes of a lion. Explain that to me using brain chemistry. 

I believe we can explain a lot of phenomena with science and sometimes attribute supernatural explanations where there shouldn’t be. But I have seen and experienced too many things in my life that I then researched, studied and tried to explain unsuccessfully. I do not believe in Satan, but I do believe that there are things out there that my brain simply cannot explain, fathom or even grasp, and I do believe that there is both, medical/conditional evil and “the other kind.” I think I am going to leave it at that.

I grew up the daughter of an alcoholic and a highly unstable mother. This turned me into someone who is a master in becoming invisible, tends to put everyone else’s needs and wants ahead of her own and has an almost unlimited tolerance for bullshit. It has also turned me into a “broken soul-collector.”  Anyone and everyone is welcome. The only requirement used to be showing up. It didn’t matter if I knew you five minutes or five years, I’d give you the same amount of energy and attention. Anyone who had ever invited me to their home or done anything nice for me was “adopted” and made me feel eternally indebted to keep providing friendship, love, financial aid, shelter or whatever else a person needed.

If or when I would start feeling resentful, it would make me feel like a hypocrite, because in my head I was supposed to keep giving unconditionally and not expect anything back in return. Having been raised in a severely dysfunctional environment had not only robbed me of the ability to set boundaries, but also the ability to really understand the difference between a friend in need and a user, a person who was going through a temporary slump and a permanent victim, someone who was enduring a tough time and someone who kept creating them. I had it all lumped into one box and created a cycle of being absolutely unable to say “no” and follow my gut, and then resenting the very choices I made and price I’d have to pay for it.

There were times when I’d lose my temper and tell a person off, but usually only when it was too late. These fights never turned out well. The already established dynamic that I would then attempt to change years later, earned me nothing but resentment, attacks, name calling and getting bad mouthed. Of course, I concluded that I deserved to be called a bitch. There were two things in my life that I could not handle, being abandoned/losing someone and being interpreted as mean-spirited, “bad,” etc. Where most would shrug their shoulders, I felt like dying. So I would desperately try to keep my mouth shut, even when some of my ”friends” or ex boyfriends’ choices caused me a lot of pain, hurt my reputation at work, cost me thousands of dollars or made me physically ill. When I would finally confront them, they’d lash out and turn others against me, if they could. I didn’t ”safe” any of them, reasoning wouldn’t work and none of them came back and apologized, no instead they felt that I owed them an apology and in a great many cases I’d give them one, returning with my tail between my legs, begging for forgiveness. When I confronted my father almost 20 years ago, he not only denied everything, but called me a lying whore who would “get punished by god.” Guess who called him five years later to tell him that I had forgiven him and loved him?

I don’t understand when it is ok to walk. I don’t understand when it is ok to not want someone in my life. I don’t understand when I am “allowed” to voice my feelings, or state any disappointment, hurt or anger, and when it is ok to stand up for myself. When I was in 2nd grade I decided to be an angel, literally! When I got older I held myself to unreasonable standards of being perfect. After all, the decision I had made as a child was “if I would have only been perfect, none of this would have happened.”

I always thought I am a tolerant and forgiving person, but then find myself in situations where it seems inauthentic and “wrong” for me to be either. I often wonder what ever happened to accountability, integrity and honesty, and at times find myself angry when I look around. Kids who used to go nuts in school used to get an earful from their parents, maybe a spanking, these days we call it ADD and give them Ritalin. Depression used to be something we’d treat with meds for a temporary period, now we are calling it a permanent disease and doctors keep writing prescriptions for psych meds, without as much as a second thought. Addicts who’d made it to rehab would learn that they can get over their addictions, but were also confronted with the consequences of their choices. Now it’s all lumped into a horrible disease and while we are allowed to be angry at the actions of an addict, we should never be angry at the addict, because he/she is suffering from a disease that makes them do things. It’s the disease talking and we need to be tolerant, forgiving and kind, even if they keep choosing to drink/eat/use and even if it keeps costing you dearly. Ever watched “Sober House” or “Celebrity Rehab?” If so, you’re familiar with Kari Ann Peniche, the poster child for abuse survivor. Granted, she is abusive, rude, mean-spirited, spoiled rotten and a meth addict, but that didn’t stop her from being resubmitted at least three times, because “it’s not Kari Ann speaking, but the disease.” The victims of the world are surrounded by thralls of “forgiving and tolerant” friends who keep patting them on the head, telling them “there, there,” or keep looking the other way, because none of it is anyone’s fault when they had it bad. I watch crazy fanatics who crash the funeral of a kid who was killed in the war and claim they are entitled to exercise their “freedom of speech.”
The vast majority of people is dangerously unaware, oblivious, indifferent and keeps rinsing and repeating. Being totally selfish and self-serving is now being confused with being self sufficient. Having no common decency is being translated into being wonderfully rebellious and an individual, when in fact you are just part of the herd we call society, the society you claim you want no part of.

There are times when I wanted to scream at those who dumped me after I would speak my truth, or questioned their behavior for not having the same forgiveness and tolerance they always accused me of not having. Alas, I find myself living in a world that seems to have removed all and any sense of accountability, but keeps telling people how justified they are in being a victim, a martyr, self-destructive, or a total jerk. I watch the same crazy or abusive cycles go around and see very few stopping it or doing a thing about it. Instead I see a lot of silent bystanders and shit talkers, of course, behind the person’s back. I see very few these days who point the finger at themselves and a whole bunch who keeps blaming and justifying. We call that tolerance and emphasize it with phrases like “live and let live.”

I still don’t know, am I forgiving or a door mat, a judgmental bitch on my high horse, or holding another accountable? I just don’t know. So all I can do is keep looking in the mirror, keep reenacting past scenes and conversations in my mind and hope that in the future I can make better and hopefully right decisions.