Crush

This song needs a warning label, as follows…

Some of the songs on the Exprimi Diem album are taking on a darker tone.

This song is not about specific people. It describes how some people — myself included — end up bringing this kind of dynamic to their personal relationships unless they are very aware and careful.

It is not an accusation against any specific person, or people, with whom I have been involved. It is not a declaration of lingering love for any person in the face of abuse.

It is not a complaint about anyone. It is about how the relationship tends to get treated whether or not there is actual abuse occurring.

This is a reminder to me, and to those people who are like me in this regard, not to let this reflex be an unexamined influence on their lives and the lives of others.

That said, yes, my brother and I were only raised by one set of parents.

I hope that this clarification goes some way towards setting minds at ease.

⁂

After writing Perfect Woman, it was time to take a dedicated look at how Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria continues to affect my life. This song tackles the core of the issue… the origin and the most prominent consequences (across a whole lot of romantic relationships, including two marriages). It’s a very tight nutshell.

The lyrics quote my childhood self. Over the course of my life, I have repeatedly expressed those same sentiments in my personal relationships, albeit in different words (usually). I frankly doubt that this dynamic is susceptible to therapeutic change at this point. But if I ever do get involved with anyone in the future (which is a dubious prospect at best, for a zillion reasons), then at least I’ll… I’m not sure what. Be more aware, or something?

The actual events (from childhood to adulthood) will take a whole lot longer to write about as the situation is absurdly complex, and of little interest to others, so I’ll do that elsewhere. I’ll just say that Jeff and I weren’t beaten, but the emotional drubbing and periodic abandonment of affection was severe, and perplexingly mixed up with good stuff. It would have taken expert children to healthily navigate parents as challenging as ours, and we weren’t anything like that… we were just plain ol’ children children.

Well, okay, plain ol’ Autistic children children in a substantially neurodiverse family. But that doesn’t make it our fault.

That’s one of those notions that tries to lead you astray. It tempts you to wonder how children could be better at dealing with their parents, when the fact of the matter is that it is not their responsibility. Their parents should be doing everything in their power to get themselves healed, and not visit their own traumatic pain on their kids.

But we also know that parents are often so overwhelmed as to be effectively powerless in that regard, and/or they can be oblivious to their own illnesses. When you grow up immersed in a distressing environment, living in yet another one can come to be unexamined.

Here are the lyrics.