Conjugate

In Hungarian many things are so complicated but logically explained and there’s a reason for almost everything happening as it is.

Teacher once told me: “You must have heard how they say ‘I love you’ “. But I didn’t. I have never heard. I knew how to count before attended my first lesson, but I never thought of saying ‘I love you’ on Hungarian. So she told me the word and said that everyone keep repeating it but no one actually asks why is it written and pronounced like that.

Szeretlek looks like this in 3rd conjugation because this one is used when explaining relation between subject and object. In other words, it demands an object in order to be used like this.

Love, same as 3rd conjugation demands an object and it’s funny how grammar and life interfere like this.

Talking about life I keep asking myself questions. And I keep thinking is it real to be like this. Where is that love and where is that demanded object?

I only keep finding objects with no relations between me and it and there is of course no love and no conjugation at all. What is wrong with conjugations and which one is  it now?

Talking with my friends it seems like we all have the same problem. Somehow it is always indefinite. It is so indefinite that in the end it stops existing. When one tries to make it definite they get to know the painful truth – won’t gonna happen. And that is pattern which keeps repeating.

My question is – what are people really looking for in each others? What makes the other so unworthy to you?

I don’t believe that men are afraid of successful women. If he likes you – he likes you. But I don’t know where have that love gone and when is it going to come back to all of us.

There are so many things that I’m good at. I’m not sure if it delights them or scares them. But I just want someone who’d be nice to me and love and respect me. To ask me out, to date me, to have plans with me, to love me. Szeretlek. To be someone’s object.

And I keep missing him. I missed him so many times. I’ll be out of ammunition if I keep it this way but somehow I don’t see the solution. Where is my definite object?

Harts are dying alone

Today I decided to write about something different.

Something very worth of talking and thinking of happened to me.

As I wrote in my pervious posts I tend to suffer a lot due to new surrounding issues; although after year and a half I’m not quite sure how can it be named “new”. Yesterday I attended one six-year-old birthday party and I expected for it to be dull. Bunch of kids and some grown ups watching over them. I’d be sitting with my cousins and chit chatting. At some point one of my cousins whispered to me: “There’s Hart”.

And there I saw her holding her phone and making that I-m-overseeing-you face. That’s my aunt Hart. We’re not so close related but we see each other during some family reunions. “I was about to type you a message”, she told me.

Hart’s a silent rebel. Even during her childhood or even toddler years she tend to be different. During her life in Mostar when she was about 4 years old she got bored in kindergarten so she asked her teacher to let her go home. The teacher said: “yeah right, of course you can go ha-ha”. So my aunt got out and took a bus back home. It was a mess later but taking a closer look everything was legit: she asked, they gave her permission to leave, so she left. So my aunt accepted the pattern she made by herself and still uses it. She’s successful, she has a kid, she’s divorced. She’s doing what she likes, no one is getting hurt. Except herself sometimes.

Yesterday we talked a lot about life. We started as chatting about her trip to Belize, but soon we concluded a lot about ourselves. I like her because she talks about things freely and openly. She’s a complete free spirit. There are no taboos or forbidden subjects and everything is logical and has a purpose. We talked about pole dance, how she was thrilled when she saw my videos, when tried it. That’s  what I call a pole dance filter for people. And we discussed some relationship topics, I told her how bad I feel after all those fails, how I can’t find a suitable partner, or better said a partner at all. Like they’re just running away from me. And then she told me to stop and pointed out my good sides and things I’m good at. And that’s what I haven’t heard for so long from anyone. Someone who sees me as a good and pretty and successful and unlike others. And it meant to me after all those tries of the people who are my closest to lure me into some things I don’t like, things which would compress my qualities and make me less worthy and less happy. Finally someone in this town who sees me.

She’s divorced, she does what she wants, she’s successful. But she is very sad. What kind of touched me yesterday was when she told me that she’d like to see a therapist. I don’t see it as a bad thing, but contrary. But somehow in her voice I could hear like she’s got sick of it all. I don’t actually know what that “all” is, but somehow I can understand her.  The rest of our family doesn’t actually appreciate her a lot. My mother and her sisters first. She’s their cousin. They like her because she’s good, but mainly they like to point at her “bad” sides. That bad is the fact she lives with no limitations. The first bad thing is that she’s divorced. You know, it is a disgrace to live alone with a child. Even more disgraceful than living a life with a molester for example, because if you’re living with any man in any house, neglecting your children, that means it is good because you fulfilled some idiotic pattern and it is even better if others see it. Basically you do have a family. You did it. You might suffer but, keep it quiet, because who knows what other people would say about it… The second thing they hate about her is that she travels a lot. Who’d be traveling a lot and being divorced at the same time plus having a child?! Rubbish. She’s unleashed! It is such a shame! Such a, such a shame.

There are many things that people are resenting her, but the thing is that while doing all that stuff she actually doesn’t hurt anyone. So I can’t really understand why is she such a bad person. She’s the rare one who appreciate other people’s good characteristics. She sees quality instead of flaws in everyone, although we have it all. And that is what I need to hear sometimes, that not everyone is bad.

She’s suppressed so much. She suffers. I can see myself in her. I’m growing up into her.

Summing all of this I can only conclude that the world is one wrong place, where it is alright to push yourself down in order to fit in some life pattern made by average people. Also it is acceptable to do harm to others in order to succeed and be jelaous of others who are better than you are; to point out flaws and make people feel miserable because of it; to lessen other people’s success and most of all to exclude all those who are different.

Finding yourself is so hard. In the end it can break you.

Deer (hart) is an endangered specie here, although it doesn’t maybe seem like it. People are killing them because of their hornets and fur which is used to be bragged about. From this perspective deer is loosing his fight against man which he’s been made to join in order to survive. Deer doesn’t want to fight. He lives in the nature, far away from people. He hurts no one. And still he’s being killed… Often people like to take pictures of dead animal after killing it and posting it on facebook or other sites. It looks like they’ve done one great thing. Even if they have, is it really necessary?

Marigold, I hate you

I hate doing this job. I hate the place where I have to spend most of my time. I hate my current superior. I hate.

Since the doctor in whose shift I were volunteering went on a month long vacation I’m forced to spend my shift with Marigold. She’s only couple of years older than I am.

But years aren’t the problem. Years are years. You grow up. You get smarter, wiser. You’re once young and stupid. You learned not to be. Or you didn’t. But it’s your choice.

I hate your subjectivity, Mari. You’re an idiot. You’re not the God. You help people by sticking to clear, substantiated rules, that’s what you do. You don’t choose who to help. You help equally. You’re neutral. You’re white. That’s one of the symbolic purposes of your appearance. You’re above all. You do good. Objective good. Good for all; not God for all.

The first time I saw how ignorant, frustrated, bad and pathetic you were was that time when you didn’t want to write the report for a highschool student who came to your shift right from school because she had a tootache. You fixed her tooth, she was half an hour in your dental office and you didn’t want to write her that report, a document first of all, which proves that she was at your place at the exact time and not somewhere else during lessons, because she was in pain. But you didn’t because your tiny mind can’t acknowledge that it is not about grades, but about taking care of a juvenile individual, who’s not at home and not at school – so where is she? And what disguises me the most is that theatrical way of your abuse of professional position and how you enjoy doing it while regarding those patients as if they’re guilty and not in pain with an inappropriate explanation that you’re not obligated to prove anything for anyone – “why is she coming to me during lessons?”, is your question.

But you see, Mari, it’s not your problem. Your problem is someone’s pain, someone’s swelling, someone’s injury.

And you claim that you do good.

On the other hand Mari, you willingly referred a patient to a specialist under fake diagnosis of a disease he didn’t suffer of at all, just in order for him to pass the health commission and cure the disease he actually suffers for free. After I warned you what you did, you justified yourself as “doing a good thing and helping him”. I don’t want to mention that he’s actually very wealthy and known for it. But, it is not what we should issue. The real issue is – why is he different than that young girl? They are different indeed, but you don’t choose who to help and surely not break the law because of some subjectivity and bright self promotion. And not to say, lack of professionalism.

Beside not stepping on my side during that unclear pain treatment when you took out the tooth I was treating, there’s one ultimately disgusting thing that you did two days ago – you rudely rejected to help a patient who was late for her treatment because of transportation problems, since she’s living in the outskirts and has no car so she could come on time that day. Her bus was late, you were free at the moment, there was one hour still until the end of the shift and you didn’t want to help her. She was in pain, she came with her mother. She’s also a teenager. But you’re an idiot, Mari. You don’t know it, you never will, but you’re an idiot. By what you did, you broke the law. There’re three explicit cases and many referred to criminal acting in medicine. Unwilling to provide medical assistance is one of it Mari and you did it and if I’d told you so, you’d say that I’m exaggerating while rolling your eyes over me as if I’m maundering. We all studied it, but once again – you’re an idiot. You’re an idiot, Mari. You’re such an idiot.

Her mother was angry and insisted us to treat her because even when they’ll be coming back, they’ll have troubles with transportation and buses that are not leaving so often during summertime, and what’s even more important is that the girl’s in pain. Mari ordered me to take the patient and just left outside to smoke. I took the patient and did it in five minutes. I’ve put a medicine in her tooth and scheduled her for the next treatment. It was ended way before the shift.

I felt sad and ashamed of what I have witnessed. It’s not the way which it should be done. It’s not right. Doctor is above it all. He doesn’t choose, he helps if he can.

Calendula officinalis, or in English – Marigold, is broadly used as a traditional medicine by many peoples from ancient times until now on.  It is proved that it reduces inflammation and spasms. It is used for treating skin diseases, eye diseases and digestive problems. It is one helpful plant with curative attributes.

But I hate you Marigold, you make me feel at least uncomfortable while I have to listen to your molesting of others. You did noting to me, but I hate you, I hate you so much that I can’t wait to finish this all and never to see you again. You’re a shame to us, shame to our community, shame to our profession. You’re degrading us consciously, same as many other out there, but I’ve never been so close to someone like you nor someone like you were my supervisor, I hate you so much that I can’t even tell you that, because if I’d do you’d probably think that I’m jealous of you, but you can’t even imagine the number of ways I’d use to avoid becoming you. You’re a disgrace. I can’t even tell you how much I hate you, you wouldn’t get it. You just wouldn’t get it. You’re an idiot, Mari. I hate you.

Restless

I’ve been reading some posts recently about family and relationships and how complex and related these two can be while shaping one’s personality. Family dictates relationships. Family is the place where we learn how to treat others, how to behave and how to form social patterns. You represent your family.

It is not only about the spoken and directed instructions, but also about imposed role models. There are things that we inherit and the things that we look at or listen everyday, so those become our behavioral models. We adopt them wanted or not and represent them in our adolescence and later in adulthood.

When the models are bad, you’re bad even if you’re not being aware of it. But you try your best still because someone explained and rooted into you that a certain thing is a good thing.

Looking inside myself I can name all the bad things I have adopted from both of my parents. Some characteristics are disgusting for me and I believe that others can see them very well. I’m afraid of it.

I think that in my family we’re all living in an illusion. On one side there’s my mother who’s so transparent. She affects only a little. There’s my father on the other who neglects us. A lot.

Talking about role models what I could adopt from him was poor behavior and relation to others, not appreciating anyone in current surrounding or doing it in a very rough way, selfishness as an usual act, no tolerance and underestimating other people, alcohol issues. That’s what he offered to me.

As nothing is black and white, I can only thank him for giving me the money with which I used to live one fine life here, paid my university and vacations, gave me home to live in. But there’s a gap that I can feel between us and it is so dark.

I’ll explain this as a girl. As a feminine confronted by other man, the close one. When I was about eight years old some of the girls in the class had their hair done by lightening hair strands. I asked my mother to do the same for me, so she took one strand and made it lighter. It was nice and I was so happy and proud to have that strand, but my father called me a slut, although I was only eight. That happened in front of my mother so I asked what does that mean and she started an argue. If you ask me that was a mild reaction of my mother since it ended soon and affected my father 0%. Later on I learned the meaning of the word so I can call this my first unfair defeat.

When I was about 12 he got home drunk and beaten me up with a cable for no reason. He broke my glasses. I told that to my mother and then again she made an argue about it. So when he got sober he made one quiet apologize to me and continued to whistle.  Basically, nothing happened to me in a physical manner, although it looks a bit dramatic, but I felt jeopardized inside. I learnt that he can do that just because he want to and it is ok, and it will pass, but I can’t feel free in my own home. Again I lacked mother’s support.

When I was 15 he took my dog away from me because he wanted to. It was a big one, Dalmatiner. The dog was sad and melancholic in our home because no one would walk him. I wanted but he was too strong so I needed help. Besides, he wasn’t vaccinated. Whenever I asked for money for vaccine he’d answer ironically: “well pay it with your own money”. The dog was always locked in his fenced place in the back yard. He was howling and that bothered neighbors. Twice, he managed to get away. Both times we found him, but my father wouldn’t let go of his idea of how the dog should be kept so he put him in a trailer and drove him to countryside and let him go. I was so depressed. He never listened to me and he never wanted us to take care about the dog although he brought him… Month and a half after that the dogcathers found him. They called father first because he’s a vet. They asked if he’d maybe like to take the dog back since it is a quality breed etc. He told them to kill the dog… This makes me sad even today for various reasons. Not only that he didn’t care about my emotions at all but he didn’t care for that dog either, so he just killed him. If he thought he’d never manage to take care of him, he shouldn’t has bought him at first place.

At 21 we shopped together by chance in a local drug market, when he molested a female marketeer in front of me. I was sad and humiliated and felt bad in front of all the people who heard it and saw it. I tried to ask him what was he doing, what is wrong with him when we got out but he just laughed. Later, he made fun of it, of myself and my reaction when we got home…

At the age of 24 I’ve met a boy who I liked at first. But at some point of dating he called me a “gold digger“. I didn’t take it to my heart because I believe you must be quite of an idiot if you call a person you date like that. Soon after that ended I took my Swedish course that autumn, because I wanted to convince myself, beside I liked the language,  that I also have a purpose, that I’m progressing and that I’m good and hard working and that I have a merit. My father’s comment was: ” You’re throwing our money away, it won’t use you, why are you doing it?”. Never mind. I continued doing it for almost two years. At some point in the autumn I was about to go on a friend’s birthday party. It wasn’t that cold although it was October so I wore jeans and jacket and heels. When my father saw me like that he called me “a gold digger”. I’m not sure did he know what that means actually, but  again I felt bad. It is the second time that someone calls me like that, no more no less, but a person who brought me up, who should be my protector and who should teach me how to deal with all those rude comments made by other unknown men, but no, he stepped on their side to call me less worthy, a slut, a person who f***s for money… I felt bad. I was sad and unprotected. My mother drove me to my friend’s house from where we should be heading to a local bar or something like that. I was crying in the front seat. But her reaction again, was indefinite, even awkward. She asked me why am I crying when he meant nothing bad, it’s nothing, he wasn’t serious, those words weren’t as they sound… That wasn’t the only time he called me like that. He did it before. And my other parent never actually acknowledged that and protected me, but she silently accepted it as true…

I’m full of bad experiences in relationships with other men. I’ve never been pretty to anyone, attractive, accepted or smart. Maybe it is true that we seek for our fathers in other men we date. We seek for those characteristics of others that broke us into pieces when we were younger; we want to prove that we are different, that they are wrong, that we are not as they perceive us, that we are good and worthy, we want to heal.

I can’t compensate my bad relationship experiences at home. At home those bad experiences get confirmed and by that mean I get defeated. I am bad, worthless, shameful. Relationship experiences, same as all the other experiences. But why I highlight relationships is because it is the sphere of my life which I somehow can’t conquer, which is unclear to me and full of bad and painful emotions which I can’t explain. People are social animals. We always seek acceptance in each other. It is normal and it is in our nature. We need other people’s support. Those who are close to us. We just need them.

The same thing repeated when I started with my Hungarian language lessons. The father said: “it’s pointless, you’re not smart enough to learn it. I can’t actually see that you’re progressing…”

But I do. I will leave once because my inner self is suffering. I need to protect the kid in me. She’s crying because she’s at her best and again called shameful, offending names by others especially, those who should be on her side. I keep comforting her that she is pretty and smart and good; that she has a big heart and that she is better than all those people who tend to trip her. But still, she can’t be fixed completely. There are things that she’ll bring with herself wherever she goes.

What’s interesting was one dream I’ve been dreaming a lot while I was about 4 or 5. It repeated for years and that’s how I remembered it so well. Beside, it was unpleasant. It kept tormenting me and I couldn’t understand it quite right until recently. It was about my dad and I, we were driving in a car. He parked the car in front of a health center in my town, where there was a small parking lot. We got outside the car when he told me: “Wait for me, I’ll come back for you”. Then he came back in the car and left. I saw him leaving, but it was foggy around me. So I got scared and tried to look up for him and come back home. I was wandering that foggy street. There was no one, it was all cloudy and grey, all the doors and windows were closed, as if it was abandoned. I was still wandering. The scenes kept repeating. There was no one and I was going round and round. And then I’d wake up. It was one of the most unpleasant dreams I’ve ever had and I kept dreaming it over and over again for some time. I would be sad every time I’d wake up. That feeling of being abandoned scared me a lot. Once I told him about the dream, but he laughed at it: “I’d never leave you like that.” So my adult self must laugh to this, in return.

Speaking again about the idea of girls seeking father figures in other men they date scares me. I don’t want someone to disrespects me. I have emotions and I can say or do lot of things. I’m not just someone. At least I wouldn’t like to spend my life beside a person who treats me just as “someone”or even worse. Knowing that this pattern could transfer to my partner life with someone scares me. I don’t want to live life that way. It is awful and sad. I don’t need that kind of relationship neither that kind of person.