2022-07-30
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I may have figured a rather deep connection between some of my
more problematic idiosychracies and my childhood views on justice.

I don't have many memories from my early years, and it seems that
the ones I have are very much connected to the same theme. Or at
least the strongest memories.

The backdrop is as follows. Me and my brother are somehow always
fighting. If we are left alone, it will get physical. This is how
I remember it. I don't know if this is literally true. Anyway, if
the parents are around, then the 'law' prevails, and I very much
prefer that to the fighting.

There is a sense in me that equates retribution to justice at that
time. "If he did that, I am entitled to do this". Very basic. I
remember being furious after getting stiched up when my brother
hit me in the head with a metal pole. I wasn't angry about the
action itself but that I thought he had not been punished for
'breaking the law'. He had been, but I wasn't aware of it.

So, in a way I had this view of the world that when the parents
upheld the law, the system was working. And when they were not
around, the system was failing.

Now skipping forward, in school I was physically bullied. I
especially remember being pinned down by an older kid with sort
of piglike face. I don't remember having any teachers who were
able to assume the role of the lawgiver. Again, this is not a
literal fact, but I think it matters that this is how I remember
it.

So in a way I am now forced to participate in this institution
that I perceive 'lawless' or failing on a fundamental level. 
As an interesting side note, I can remember my mom criticising
my teachers to me. This is a curious thing that begs a lot of
questions I don't have ways of answering. Did she feel 
challenged by my admiration of at least one of my teachers? 
Maybe she was against the institution? Who knows. 

What I see now is these dynamics somehow leading up to my 
suspicious view of institutions, even though my values about
punishment are a lot different these days. I have a vague sense
that somehow this also led to my strange shame about acting in
social ways. It's almost like I am ashamed of fitting in.

I was very close to my mom and still am. But now I am thinking
that maybe the deep talks we used to have back then may not have
been age appropriate? How is a kid supposed to take it when their
mom criticises their teacher? Did she also criticise my friends?
The strange thing is that I have a very hard time remembering
much about her at all from those times...

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