Three

The complexity and depth of the sadists cruelty and techniques are as fascinating as they are horrifying. Wow, thank you for sharing that with me. Oh, yeah! It just now clicked for me. I do have a post which outlines a convo i had with my father. it would be cool to include that. After all, this writing about tangled is to a large degree emotionally driven by that.

I'm incredibly sorry to hear that. You deserved a fun, positive and encouraging environment. My mother emotionally incested me until I left the house at age 21. I really appreciate the sympathy, support and encouragement. I really have grown a tremendous amount and will continue to do so. Thank again, everyone who took the time to read and reply.

Hey, Waleed. That's correct. I not only was being censored, but I was also censoring myself. The totalitarian state was me. With all sympathy to why I did what I did. Just to preface, this is brief and not in detail, but never the less disturbing. I'm also writing this in a hurry. My childhood was incredibly lonely. M parents were not divorced, my mother stayed at home, I got to spend time with my dad on the weekends, and I even had material needs provided to me, but I was indeed emotionally neglected. I've never had a real conversation with my parents. I had very little guidance, mentoring, or emotional support. When I was "inconvenient" by being depressed during 5th grade and crying almost everyday my mother explained to my teachers, "I dunno what's wrong with him, he just turned into a basketcase. it might be the advil he's taking". I was considered the "good" kid because I self erased and stayed in my room and played video games. This was my plea to be allowed to exist. I was also a great pretender. Later when I was 13, my parents took in two of my neices and one of my nephews. My half sister, who was an alcoholic and 20 years older than me, had them taken away from her by DHR. Then things went down here from there. My parents were even less emotionally available during my teenage years and the 3 bed roomed house was crowded. Eventually, one neice and one nephew left. but it was still me, my sister, my mom, my dad and my neice. Tension built between everyone, fights between everyone was common. To point out the theme of censorship, there was an implicit, NO TALK rule about anything important. During all the chaos and dysfunction, the family not once sat down to talk about it. Not once did we come together and talk about the difficulties. I stayed in my room, my mom did her thing, my dad went to work and watched tv, eveyone just went along as if nothing was happening, regardless of how bad things were getting. What was important to my Mom, like with the North Koren government, was things that were not important like presentation. My mom would clean and make the house emaculate. There were culty, propagandistic family photos all over the house. Opportunities to talk, were always and forever missed, and instead were replaced by "picture time!" moments like these. What makes these photos so creepy was that, like propaganda photos in the DPRK, they are such stark contrast to the reality of the situation. When you see the measures taken in totalitarian regimes take to present a nice image, it's eerie and enraging because you just know in reality the people are dying. Similarly, the more dysfunctional my family got, the more effort was put into presentation. At age 17 I still went to the living room to sit next to my dad and lean on him on the couch like I did when I was a boy. Again, without any real conversation. Like a totalitarian state command economy, things were eerily stagnant and repetitive. Frozen. Skip to 7:30 to see a lady directing traffic that doesn't exist. Luckly, we had a two story building in my back yard where I stayed. Had I not moved from my bedroom to an outdoor garage, I probably would have ended up like me neice and my sister. This was undoubtedly one of the main protective factors in my life. A refuge. But, it was still not enough to completely avoid the effects of the radioactivity. My sister ended up addicted to pills, going to rehad, then having a baby with someone she met in rehab. The baby was born severely mentally retarded. My neice also ended up on anti psychotics and having a baby at a young age. Now the house was even more crowded with 3 different families. There was my mentally deteriorating sister, her cognitively impaired baby, and her thug baby dady, my neice, my neice's baby daddy, my neices kid, my mom, my dad and me. Yelling matches were common. Boundaries didn't exist. Then my dad left to work overseas. Once my dad left, my mom was lonely tried to get her emotional needs met from me. She emotionally incested me by telling me about her problems, she would come out of her room at night and tried to hug my and talk in a baby voice. It was a nightmare. Here's a little more info if you're interested. https://board.freedomainradio.com/topic/39588-infantilization-and-the-erosion-of-self-efficacy/?hl=infantilization

Dark, I now that I look back at it, the hostility wasn't anything knew. It was there all along, the only reason it hadn't came out was because I was willing to self erase. Had I been myself at any other time for any other reason I know I would have experienced the same rejection. That kind of rejection had happened long ago and I learned quickly that self erasing was key to survival. Thank you for the time to reply and for your feedback. I wish you the best while you do the work. You're worth it!Take care, man!

thank you for your feedback! it means alot to me. Take care-joel

Thank you, Rock!!

Thank you so much for your feedback. I'll try it out.

Behold my amateur artwork. I tried changing size, but it uploads the same way. "Each day, without striving towards a noble goal, such as individuation, living with integrity, and speaking the truth, simply becomes a photocopy of the last day. And in much of the same way a copy of a copy becomes more and more degraded, so too do our lives lose definition when do not raise our standards. Mere productivity without growth is not living" - Joel Patterson

Hey Sophos, I can certainly relate to what you're saying. There have been countless examples where I've not waved and said hello to a little girl, have not opened a door, have not offered to carry something, or chose nto to be really friendly with women because of fear that I was being a "creep" or "insulting", that I'd be accused of being a "perve" for complimenting a woman ect. I'm sorry to hear about your experience and really sympathize.

Enemy is new and it's great!

Grieving is necessary for healing and recovery, so if grief is blocked the recovery process becomes prolonged. Similarly, if you have a broken bone the rate at which it heals would depend upon what kind of fracture and how old you were, to name a few examples. Thus, if you have a therapist, a pro grieving environment with supportive friends, or have been taught how to grieve by your caregivers you are going to heal faster than someone who is in a destructive environment, who blocks grief with drugs, who is in denial, or who has inherited a "no grieving(be a man)" policy from their caregivers. Here is some information you might enjoy reading. http://sfhelp.org/grief/basics.htmI hope that helps. Take care. -Joel

Thank you for taking the time to read my post! i always appreciate your feedback

This morning I was triggered by something, which provoked much anxiety within me. I came very close to getting up and eating something to sooth myself, but decided to eat two bananas instead. I'm not overweight, in fact I'm quite slender and I exercise daily, but I have gained a bit of fat around the sides of my lower belly from not eating as I should. I'm worth a healthy and energetic body. When I eat junk I feel lethargic, guilty, and overall not good about myself. Sometimes, I overeat and go to bed on a full stomach, only to wake up the next day with a full stomach, which makes it difficult for me to get the most out of my morning workout. It isn't a pleasant way to start out the day. I don't want to keep sending this message to my unconscious that, "I don't deserve a good body". I want to commit to eating better, to love myself enough to stop eating junk. The short benefits of sugar and carbs are not worth the long term, or even the daily stress for that matter, of not getting getting the most out of this precious life, which we are all lucky to be a part of. I want to feel good. I want to look good. i want to live with integrity, so when I talk to people about serious issues, my words have more weight to them. I want that confidence, so I am making a commitment to eating better right now. Although, I am eager to understand how I ended up where I am today in terms of health. I use to be far more committed. I avoided sugar like the plague and I would always order the healthiest item on the menu when out with friends. I took health very seriously and regularly rejected food that was offered to me by others if it was unhealthy. Even if it was a family gathering or a friend’s family gathering, if their food was unhealthy, it didn’t matter how free, unique, or special it was, I refused to compromise my values. My health was more important than their traditions.Was I being too “Anal” about what I ate? This might sound like a disparaging and loaded question to ask myself, but I assure you that’s only because it is. And if you think it’s unfair for me to ask myself questions like that, I agree. What is even more disagreeable is that these are the kinds of questions I would get asked by people who claimed to be my friend. I’m feeling really angry right now thinking about it. I remember being asked this by an old friend while I was in the passenger seat of his car. This occurred shortly after we had both mentioned that we were hungry. Why would he ask a question like this? Control. He wanted to control me. A loaded question is by definition “a rhetorical tool that attempts to limit direct replies to be those that serve the questioners agenda.” So, what was his agenda? Well, he wanted to eat Popeye’s Fried Chicken and knew that I prefered to stay away from that kind of food. But, you see, he didn’t want to have to drive to the grocery store so I could purchase me some fresh produce. You see, that would involve extra driving and he wanted to get his food and go home. So, what he cleverly did was embed false premises in the question and frame it with a negative connotation attached to it. That way, I would be more likely to say no. “Are you feeling anal about food today?”, in other words translates to, “are you feeling your neurotic compulsion to annoyingly obsess over what you eat today and thus willing to become an inconvenience?”. It’s as subtle as it is cruel. And it’s as abusive as it is brilliant, which is why it’s always always worth slowing down and pointing this kind of stuff out. This undoubtedly qualifies as verbal abuse. It’s no wonder I felt so depressed and self loathing when I was around this guy. It really is astounding when you think about it. I wasn’t expressing anything nearly as emotional volatile and explosive as topics such as religion, the state, or family dysfunction. I was receiving this hostility because of my desire to eat plants instead of poultry. Admittedly, it probably does deeper than that. When a person grows and decides to make better, more challenging and rewarding choices in life, there becomes an implicit obligation for the people around him to change as well, if they want to remain friends. I mean, let’s face it, you either grow with or away from people. What this guy in the car was probably experiencing was that obligation. He felt anxious and tense, which is okay to feel. But, he did not take ownership for his feelings and instead interpreted this impetus to change as something that was being imposed upon him. He felt controlled, he did not acknowledged it, so he inflicted this feeling on me. It’s also worth mentioning that this guy was not religious or statist. Intellectually, he accepted that god doesn’t exist and that the state is an institution of violence. Yet, despite this intellectual understanding between us, we could not connect. The lesson that I take from this is that conclusions aren’t enough. Having the “same beliefs”, for a lack of better words, is not a stable foundation for an intimate relationship, nor does it entail that the other person has empathy. The reason I share is not to lecture, but to use my mistakes as a way to warn people away from making the assumptions I did. As surely as physics, in the absence of a strong foundation of honesty, empathy, and curiosity, there can be no sturdy relationship.I was going to give more examples of old friends and family rejecting me in similar ways because of my eating, but I think you get the point. What was originally going to be a list of examples for the purpose of venting, I think has transformed into something more. I’m becoming more aware on an emotional level of the importance of responsibility. Yes, it’s true these people made it very difficult for me to reach my goals by creating an association in my mind that, “committing to goals = the pain of rejection”(or something like that). Also, I think it’s true that we can only be as great as the people we choose to have around us let us be. And I chose to surround myself with these drag downers and to avoid being honest, even after intellectually understanding a number of books and podcasts I had listened to by Stefan Molyneux. I stress the importance of responsibility now, not as a way to castigate myself, but to empower myself and others to bring consciousness to the choices they make so that you can avoid suffering the consequences like I did. Prevention is always better than cure. In other words, remember to eat your bananas.As always, take care.- Joel

And I love everything about this korn song. I love the rattle sounding bass. I love those drum licks. I the back and forth 7 string guitars. I love how during the chorus the music gets louder, but the vocals ascend to a pretty falsetto which then turns into a powerful growl.

Hey, Marina . Thank you for taking the time to read my post and for responding. I understand that that is difficult. The irony that I wanted to point out is that when we choose to be around people who we cant be ourselves around, when we feel like we have to censor ourselves and thus, do in fact censor ourselves, we turn our social and mental world into a kind of tyranny and become dictators to ourselves. I was being a dictator to myself while at the same time telling people that to wish for a god would be a kind a desire to be a slave, to have a celestial dictatorship and this disconnect between my values and how I was living (freedom good, totalitarianism bad, yet i must censor myself) created much agony within me. I was telling people about the concept of doublethink yet, what I was doing myself is a perfect example of double think. Also, I just say that you're a realtor. That's a very honorable profession and been doing soul searching about my next career move and it's been pointing me towards sales.by the way, if you liked this post, you might also enjoy this fun review I did of a disney movie called Tangled. I even included video clips of particular scenes I analyse. https://board.freedomainradio.com/topic/39739-film-review-tangled/ Enjoy! :)Rock, thank you too for replying. a lot has changed since then and like I said, this was when I was 18. I just wanted to get in touch with the younger self. until recently, i would look back at this memory and say, "what a short journal entry i made.". i'm 23 now. My solution to this was to surround myself with people who I can be myself around and get hostile people away from me. Unless it's like a business relationship or a coworker in which case, I gladly don't talk about philosophy with them. It's a different kind of relationship. Anyways, i wish ya'll the best.

I'd like to join in! I don't run my own business, but it's been something I've been thinking about.

The following text is the result of journal entries that were written in order to get back in touch with my younger selves. I started with my 18 year old self since he experienced much trauma and abuse. The day I discovered Richard Dawkin’s book “The God Delusion” was the beginning of a period of extraordinary growth for me that I had not experienced since first learning how to walk and talk. The book was after all what taught me how to think as well as to distinguish truth from falsehood. My enjoyment of this book prompted me to read similar authors such as Sam Harris, Christopher Hitchens and Daniel Dennett. Shortly after evaluating their arguments, I became a full fledged, bonafide skeptic and nonbeliever. I had the scientific method memorized, I had decent knowledge as to how to point out logical fallacies, and had even some skill with the socratic method. The question, “what is the evidence for that?” a regular part of my vocabulary. And it was not only religion that interested me. I also was interested in evolution, theoretical physics, cosmology and occasionally politics. I knew I didn’t have enough information to proclaim a particular ideology in politics, so I continued to expose myself to a wide variety of arguments as often as I could. I would read books about Marxism, I took political science classes in college, and would occasionally even listen to conservative talk radio. I also became fascinated by North Korea and George Orwell’s 1984. I even started watching as many documentaries about the DPRK as I could find. I was shocked that such a place still existed. I had very little of my mind made up about politics, but I knew that totalitarianism was evil. This learning process was one of the most pleasurable experiences of my life at that point. I had never felt so much passion or meaning in my life. Not only did I want to know more, but I wanted to emulate the thinkers I so admired. I wanted to write and educate like dawkins, while being able to debate like Christopher Hitchens. So, I studied incessantly. Whether it was physical books, audiobook, youtube presentations or debates, I did not discriminate. These study sessions even took over things I loved that had normally been my main focus like playing video games or bass guitar. The only thing that could have made this time in my life better, I thought, was to share what I was learning with others. To use a quote by Carl Sagan, “when you’re in love you want to tell the world”. I was certainly in love with with truth. And share I did. I shared my love with teachers, friends, coworkers, acquaintances, family, lovers, and strangers. Yet, despite all that I learned, nothing prepared me for the hostility, scorn, passive aggression and rejection I received. It did not happen immediately, however. At first, people would tolerate me by, in their mind, downgrading my passion for truth as a sort of hobby, a quircky preference. They’d listen and sometimes send me videos of comedians criticizing religion. Of course, they missed the point. I didn’t wanna merely make fun of something, I wanted arguments, rationality, evidence and rigor for god’s sake, something stimulating. This soft rejection eventually turned into outright hostility, with one girl who I was dating at the time snapping, “NO, I dont want to watch any stupid videos about North Korea!” The more things like this happen the more I felt my enthusiasm and joy turn into frustration, anger, bitterness, and resentment. “What is wrong with these people?”, I thought. The more I learned, the more I felt I was compelled to hide and the more hidden I felt from everyone, the more isolated I became. Also, because I had a history of being emotionally abused, and because i was being emotional abused on a daily round the clock basis, I had been trained to attack, doubt and blame myself. It was not long before the question, “what is wrong with these people?” became “what is wrong with me?” As I’m writing this I’m becoming aware too of the degree to which isolation exacerbated these negative thoughts. When you’re isolated, you have nothing to interrupt the negative thinking, so toxic thoughts just accumulate. My eighteen year old self really needed intimacy and for someone to reflect back to him who he was. Nothing was wrong with me. Of all the things that I remember during that time,there’s one memory in particular that really stands out. I remember after a party a friend left some vodka over at my house. The next night, all alone, I made the unwise decision to drink my problems away. If anything, that made things worse and I even felt so bad that out of desperation I began to journal. This was prior to me truly understanding the benefits of journaling, so it was new to me. In an intoxicated depression, after I spent a few minutes staring at my notebook paper, with tears rolling down my cheeks, I was able to write one simple sentence, “I feel like I have to censor myself.”It wasn’t until I began writing this that I started to really process the full depths of misery that were imbedded in that one sentence. Here I was, an 18 year old young man who had been reading about the horrors of totalitarianism. I read with goosebumps what happened to Wiston Smith in 1984, who watched with disgust and fascination while learning about the the extreme measures the Kim dynasty took to suppress North Koreans, who cheered with excitement while Christopher Hitchens had said during a debate that he is an antitheist, that to want a god would be to want a celestial dictator who could convict you of thought crime. Here I was, one of the only people within a 50 mile radius who cared even to learn and to express his outrage about the evils of the world, felt like I had to censor myself, which is one of the main weapons a regime uses against people. Yet, there were no guns, no gulags, and no thought police. I was living a kind of soft tyranny. I wasn’t interested in double think and brutal suppression for merely abstract reasons. I wasn’t attracted to that kind of literature only because I had a bad childhood. It was in many ways a reality I was living. Everyone wanted me to shut up. And these very same people I called my friends.

Thanks, Ivan. That would be great!

I thought I'd stop by Kroger before I go to work for breakfast. Bananas are always an excellent choice since they are so cheap, nutritious, and tasty. Anyways, that's not the point and I am feeling ambivalent about this intervention. I encountered a lot of resistance, hesitance, and stalling. I could have done so much more here. I'm experienced self attack afterwards and even now. I remember feeling really raw and sensitive walking in the store. After I grabbed my Bananas and proceeded to walk towards the register, an older african american woman was holding the hands of a child who looked around the age of three who was crying very heavily. They were on there way out and after a few seconds I realized the old lady was giving her the silent treatment. This infuriated, me and I wanted to go demand that she pay attention to the child. I turned around walked towards them and then, it was as if I hit an invisible wall. I stopped and a part of me, I'm ashamed to admit, thought "oh, well. maybe todays not the right day. what if she yells at you.?" "It's not about me, think of how the girl feels!", I replied and started walking faster to keep up with them. They were out side at this point. As I was in the parking lot following them to say something, I saw two african americans walk by the lady I was following. Immediately, a disaster scenario occurred where those two ladys would over hear the conversation I would have with the grandmother and then gang up on me. I was scared. And again, I stalled. I froze and couldn't believe what I was doing, or rather not doing. "So, what if they do attack you, what about the girl?" So, I turned around again and walked quickly towards the lady's car. They were literally in the car at this point, the child still crying as loudly as she was in the store. Luckily, the window was rolled down and I walked up to the car which stopped her from backing out of the lot and asked, "miss, is everything okay. I noticed she was upset and was concerned." I looked in the back seat and mad eye contact with the girl who was still crying. "oh, she just throws a fit when she doesn't get what she wants and granny isn't going to get what she wants", she replied with a "sweet old lady" facade in her voice. Again, I'm ashamed to admit that I felt so blocked. I wanted to say, you should pay attention to your child" But, I didn't want to get in a heated argument. Instead, I looked at the girl reached my hand out to her(without putting my arm in the car) and said "it's okay to be upset".what i'd like to do is figure out what was making me stall and hesitate so much, so I can just jump to do this in the future. or maybe there was a good reason for my fear. any suggestions?

That's really interesting. A thought that came into my mind was that in addition to purporting to be the bulwark against such a war, the government simultaneously trains people to attack each other and creates situations where children literally are against their parents. To take an extreme example, I was reading a book called "Escape from camp 14", which is about, Shin Dong-hyuk, the only person ever to escape from one of North Korea's worst prison camps. Growing up he saw his mother as merely a competitor for food. In fact, He was responsible for the executions. He had snitched to a prison guard about an escape his mother and brother were planning, knowing full well that escape plans were punishable by death. He had made this trade-off to get more food and an easier job at school. When somebody attempts to escape, which usually results in death, that whole person's family is usually taken to a prison camp and executed. At the same time North Koreans are told the supreme leader is protecting them against US imperialism. So, governments create incentives and conditions which make the myth become a reality.

Bam! check out this letter I got this morning! "Hey Joel, Thanks for the suggestions, its always great to discover new videos of people who have great insights, iv only watched the Matrix one so far but really enjoyed and agreed with alot of its points, planning on watching the rest of them too. Thanks for brining it to my attention. Thanks"

great job!

Yeah, man. Also, I've been scrolling down to the comment section and have been clicking on the commenter's profile to send them the letter!A great way to multitask while listening to a podcast

So, recently, I've been broke. And that's been my excuse as to why I haven't donated in a few months. What a bunch of baloney I was telling myself, since Stef asks to donate time as well as money. As a result of this realization I've been sending messages like these out to numerous youtube channels and have been tailoring them according to the audience. For example, this is a letter tailored to people who like film analysis or reviews since there are plenty of film reviewers on youtube! Anyways, just wanted to share for others who might want to borrow this idea and edit this letter to their liking. Or if you thing there's a better way to donate time, let me know! I've really been enjoying this since it pays commission...in the form happiness Hello, friend! My name is Joel and I wanted to share with you a podcast and youtube channel that I find incredibly stimulating, which also happens to be an immense source of joy for me. The website is freedomain radio! It is the largest and most popular philosophy conversation in the world with over a million downloads and it just keeps growing. Whether you your thing is film reviews, gender issues, economics, or just true news! You can find it here. Since you like film analysis, I’ll send you a film analysis video! I sincerely hope that you take the time to check out one of the most unique and powerful conversations in the world. Thank you so much for your time. Here are video analysis/ reviews or Frozen, Avatar, and the Matrix. (Frozen) (Avatar) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ryHvg-6Wy2A (Matrix) Please let me know what you think! Sincerely, Joel Patterson

I felt really angry at hearing what your parents did to you. Neglect, mocking, sabotaging your plans, and breaking your will. You didn't deserve that. You've shown a tremendous amount of courage for all the work you've done and for sharing this and I found your writing truly inspiring. You're awesome, Ivan. Sincerely,-Joel