Funerals and corpses.


T
he only real use for funerals that I can come up with is something like saying goodbye in style to someone you knew, that died. But I would rather do that in a more private setting because there are strict rules for attending funerals - one of them is to not show too much emotions, you must be quiet and respectful mwaaaah And why must you be so quiet, whisper, when the person is already dead - makes no sense. And then you've got to shake hands with everybody, wish them strength, but never come too close, write some things about heaven in the guestbook and then you're off.
Last one I attended was because of the children of the woman that died - I wanted to let them know I cared or something like that. But apparently I didn't care that much, never visited these kids to see how they were doing.
I was glad I wasn't the stiff one. And I wondered how it would be to be the stiff one.
In the end, it always comes down to self interest."

That's what I wrote on the forum yesterday on the topic of funerals.
This morning waking up I remembered my first funeral - in particular: my first 'corpse'. It was my grandma's. I was 7 years of age and my granny had died. I was taken by my mother to this mourning centre where my grandma's corpse was in this coffin. My mother and my aunts, they were crying and very sad. It was very silent there, everyone whispering and so.
I saw this thing in this coffin, so cold and so not here and got very upset and cried. I didn't want to look at this 'thing', wanted to get out of that room. My aunt thought I got overwhelmed by sadness, but I just wanted to get out of there. They mistook my tears for grief and forced me to stay there and pray! Oh my god, yes, I felt I couldn't tell them I was disgusted by this corpse (I would get punished for that one way or another), so I had to pretend. I felt so trapped!
Me remembering this event means it has made quite an imprint - I do not remember that much from childhood.
I have been feeling trapped alot - still do. Trapped in pretending to be something I am not. Being moulded as a child to fit this systematic 'how you should feel/think/behave' I am actually getting increasingly sick because of it, I mean, sick to the point I feel I have to vomit.
When still a child I learned how to survive by 'not being here' because that was unbearable - i had to act/be/feel/think like i was supposed to, not what I was actually experiencing or expressing. I learned it was all about pleasing the adults so i wouldn't get punished (by abandonement), but still was very aware of what was going on inside me. Two different worlds. My world was secret - theirs just sucked, but of course as a child I had to adapt to theirs in order to survive, what a shit hole!



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