autodidactia 1 minute ago
I'd like to ask you a question, which you don't need to answer if you feel it's too personal or crossing the line. Did coming from a colonial background make you feel like you were personally responsible for the ills of colonialism or did other people make you feel like you were personally responsible for something that was systemic and obviously larger than any individual? That would be a very unjust burden to place on one person especially if you just happened to find yourself there by an accident of birth or circumstance.
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+autodidactia Some of my videos deal with this, including the most recent one.
Certainly it was how others made me feel. They denied me the right to mourn my loss of culture and country by saying, "It shouldn't have been yours in the first place."
Then I was targeted in the workplace by one narc. specifically because it was a left-wing workplace and she considered I was wrong for it.
And then when I tried to explain myself, though writing my memoir, and other means, I was targeted again and again, as if I were too audacious to speak about a forbidden topic and as if I had no shame.
At the same time as all of this was happening, my father, who had loved Africa more than anything, and had sacrificed unspeakably for it (his brother had been killed in the war), was also going mad. He became narcissistic and borderline. But prior to migrating his worst offence had been a bad temper, not dissociation from reality.
I had to bear the cost of his madness too, as well as the workplace abuse and guilt-mongering.
All of this was very extreme, and it nearly disintegrated my personality. When a professor whom I had admired turned on me, I almost felt my personality starting to disintegrate.
Certainly it was how others made me feel. They denied me the right to mourn my loss of culture and country by saying, "It shouldn't have been yours in the first place."
Then I was targeted in the workplace by one narc. specifically because it was a left-wing workplace and she considered I was wrong for it.
And then when I tried to explain myself, though writing my memoir, and other means, I was targeted again and again, as if I were too audacious to speak about a forbidden topic and as if I had no shame.
At the same time as all of this was happening, my father, who had loved Africa more than anything, and had sacrificed unspeakably for it (his brother had been killed in the war), was also going mad. He became narcissistic and borderline. But prior to migrating his worst offence had been a bad temper, not dissociation from reality.
I had to bear the cost of his madness too, as well as the workplace abuse and guilt-mongering.
All of this was very extreme, and it nearly disintegrated my personality. When a professor whom I had admired turned on me, I almost felt my personality starting to disintegrate.
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