Thank you for sharing your life experiences, Don. As usual I related totally to much of what you said. I was never overweight but instead suffered from chronic shyness and oversensitivity to others' emotions for most of my life. Strangely enough in recent years it's been replaced by an unwarranted arrogance. I guess I'll take it - feels like an improvement anyway. Anyway, I appreciate what you do - you express what a lot are feeling.
I too was always shy and aloof growing up. That all changed at the York Steak House when I got a job there. One day, being the fry cook on the broiler line, I was surrounded by chaos. Somebody was going to have to take charge. I guess that guy was me.
But I also wanted to be a good leader, not like a lot of people who use being the boss to their advantage, and impose their will on others. I always wanted to think I had the overall good of everybody in mind- the employees, the managers, the customers, and myslef.
You've definitely lead an interesting life White Wolf. I guess we all need experiences like that which will test our limits and hopefully we rise to the occasion. Thanks for sharing - good to hear from you Brother.
Growing up, I felt very insecure and introverted. Especially attending that Catholic grade school where the kids were truly mean. I was short for my age and a Plain Jane. Picked on by others, called stupid, ugly, you get the gist. I never spoke up to defend myself. There was always the fear of getting beaten. My parents argued a lot and us kids fought frequently with each other. There were 9 of us little Indians and not enough money to go around for food or clothing, and certainly NOT love. Looking back, we became one of the many dysfunctional families. How/when I changed to become more of a "better to be pissed off than pissed on" person, I don't know. Don't get me wrong, I still try and do nice things for others, smile, say hello, can I help you. But I can and have said, Whats your problem, go to hell, and even eff you. I understand where you're coming from. Perhaps when our faces get shoved into a pile of shit long enough, we just say Thats It. None of us is perfect, and maybe we're trying to hard for something that doesn't exist. But you seem to be one of the brave and intelligent people that the rest of us can admire, and relate to. A beacon that we don't have to feel so alone in this world. I enjoy your writings, so please, I hope you never feel awful about your life. Its the road that God gave to us, for some reason. Maybe because He knew that in the end, we would be the Strongest. Perhaps you should feel lucky that God wants you to stick around; I'm sure we will find out one day. Hugs to you, Don!
I really appreciate your support, Fran. It means a lot to me to hear that people get something out of my work. I'm finding out that almost no one was raised in a Cleaver type of home. Thanks!
I enjoyed this post. Very raw and very personal. I can relate. I am a hyper-critical person too. Often very hard on myself and others too. I don't know why I'm that way, and sometimes I wish I wasn't, but I figure God must have made me that way for a reason--or I am just the product of a perfectionist mother. Thanks for relating your experiences with us. Your honesty is refreshing!
Your biography never ceases to amaze me. Tiz a wonder you never ended in a psyche ward, or worse. At any rate, in school I was the polar opposite. I kept to myself, and kept to the library. Only once, on the playground, was I a superstar, when I discovered I had more athletic ability then the guys who went out for little league. My peers were amazed, and all congratulated me. But, the next day, they were all out to get me. The penthouse one day- the doghouse the next. I learned that fame, like the weather, was quite changeable, and the movement of the herd defied all logic or predelection.
Little League? You got to be kidding me. At the behest of my father, I signed on to Little League in the Second Grade. It sounded good. And playing baseball was fun. But wait a minute. After a long day at school, I had to go ride out to the field and practice for two hours in a field full of bugs and gnats? What about Speed Racer, and Star Trek, and the latest Library Book. Ah, but fame had too high a price, I decided, and resigned my commission. Moreover, I got hauled to my brothers' Little League games. I used to watch batters get taunted and parents argue over calls with the umpire. Not exactly the epitome of Christian Charity, I decided. The day I could stay Home Alone was the closest I ever got to a Rite of Passage. And I think my parents actually were relieved the house was not empty most nights- petty thievery was common back then.
I am amazed your family was not there to see your Great Hit at the Championship. My dad taxied my two brothers to the games for years. It was far and away his favorite hobby. I'm sure that if either of my brothers would have done something similar- God help the coach who did not award a trophy and copious recognition. The destruction of Sodom would have been nothing by comparison.
As for me, I have become quite used to being the little bug that is squashed the moment it becomes annoying. Just yesterday on a Catholic blog, I was accused of being uncharitable and giving the Church "bad optics", and that by the host in front of thirty other guests. No explanation. No attempt at refuting my arguments. Just "tone it down" or get banned.
My childhood was a bit unusual, WW. I'm still holding out some stuff. I'm certainly an open book, but a few things aren't ready for public discussion. By the time I was 11, my father had retired on disability, and refused to drive any longer. I was one of those pathetic kids that had to get a ride to the practices and games from coaches or other parents. Later, when I coached my son's and daughter's teams, I was the one riding those kids to games and practices. I could definitely relate to them. Thanks for sharing your own interesting experiences!
At this point, Don, I really do not know what is "usual". I do know that the dysfunctionality we see all around us is largely a result of being in Sheepledom, the Crown Jewel of which is the Prussian Educational Model the vast majority of us experience in our childhood.
It at Prussian Model School that we are taught what really matters- fame and fortune, the pursuit of which all else be damned. And so we study, work our proverbial tails off, burn that candle at both ends and in the middle if necessary, go to college, graduate, and all the while adding to our resume- our chief concern in life, until we break through that Glass Ceiling onto Primrose Lane and world of I-Made-It.
That is what my brothers eventually did. And so they got to hang out with their artificial friends at their artificial church and their artificial clubs and learn the school of political correctness and trudge from one egotistical orgy to the next. That was the '80's, doing Facebook before there was Facebook. I recall my brother's first website. It was all about his daughter eating ice cream and making a mess of herself. Most uninteresting. But hey, in the early '90's if you wanted to be The Man you had to have a website.
[My first website was "Desertmonk's Kenner Girls", detailing my collection of Action Figures and my quests on procuring them- the slogs through corporate emails to pinpoint when the cases would ship and where in my vicinity they would pop up first, so I could be the first to own the latest Incarnation of Princess Leia or Ripley. (I kept my collection limited to just Kenner, and just females, to keep it under control. I knew some guys, like Yakface and Rebelscum, that had houses full of Star Wars paraphenalia...) It was actually an interesting website that got many hits at GeoCities and AngelFire, back in the Pioneer days of the web. I was also a fixture at "Overheard in the Aisles" at Action Figure Times, especially when I made my epic rant about Star Wars Episode I- The Phantom Movie.]
All I can say is, thank God for the Donald Jeffries that was short shrifted because he was obese. Otherwise, Donald Jeffries just might have ended up being a footnote at some Lamestream Media Propaganda Machine. Instead, I got the Donald Jeffries that wrote Hidden History and taught me all about Honest Abe, for which I will hopefully be eternal indebted.
One of my old priest friends was always saying that God writes straight with crooked lines. He sure does.
You are certainly an interesting guy, WW. I appreciate the kind words. If the incident with my brother hadn't happened, to uproot my life and form my opinion about the unfairness of the system, when I was just seven, I think I might have taken a more conventional path. My parents were too old to really give me proper guidance, or I might have been pressured into going to four year university somewhere. I would almost have certainly wound up with a better job, and a lot more wealth. But yeah, if I hadn't been radicalized so early, and found the system to my liking, then I surely wouldn't have written any of my books. Thanks!
I was still in grade school when my mother astonishingly decided to throw me a birthday party. I sat looking out the window for hours waiting for someone to show, no one ever did. The irony was-my mother proclaiming that the lesson was I should never trust anyone except my family. I’m not particularly stupid or bright (I guess) but I spent sixty years trying to figure it all out. I even graduated college with a degree in psychology. Still it took me 60 years to realize my mother hadn’t even invited anyone to the party. It was so evil my mind couldn’t even process it. It all runs deep and some of it we may never understand. I see why I relate so well to your posts.
Wow, Nancy. I can't imagine how that felt. I guess maybe you felt better in some way, when you learned she'd never invited anyone, and so your peers hadn't really rejected you like that. But then what did that make her? I'm constantly stunned at the depth of dysfunction in American families. Everyone seems to have a story to tell. Thanks for sharing yours!
What I came to realize was my mother was mentally ill, it was the only explanation for all the horror she visited on me. Alice Miller helped me understand, reading ! The greatest gift of my life, well besides my beloved dog Jack. 💕💕💕 Your posts allow me to open up a bit, share a little of myself.
I often think of trying to write a book chronicling all the dysfunction out there. It seems to be in almost every family. So many people have stories of varying degrees of tragedy, regarding parents, siblings, children, etc. They deserve to be heard. Thanks, Nancy!
I recall my birthday party. You should be lucky that nobody was invited. Many of my classmates were at my party, and it was all about them, not about me. Nobody wanted to do what I wanted to do. They all did what I did not want to do. And so they were all out in the yard, running around, while I was opening some of my presents, which might as well have been a basket of rocks, for all I cared. I was so sad, I actually cried.
Therapy never helped me. Most therapists psychologists psychiatrists are themselves pretty fucked up. So much so it’s nearly impossible for them to identify with ”you”, be your functioning helper. Alice Walker describes it the best. It’s hard to get through to a professional who believes in “honor thy father and mother” while they’re the ones destroying you heart and soul. It’s another layer of dysfunction in our crazy world. I’m not too familiar with the internal lives of many celebs but they seem to be a pretty messed up lot. Not too introspective generally. Yoga is good therapy if you can find a wonderfulteacher, but then again the rub.
Yes, I was sad at the time. But it was really a great blessing, which I learned in retrospect. Without all those "hard knocks" from my childhood I would not be the person I am today. I suppose God was telling me, early on, that this life is, as we say in the Salve Regina "a vale of tears". I know that Our Lady had a lot of "hard knocks" in her life too.
Little League is really one of the banes of modern society. It turned my brothers into obnoxious little twerps that had no time for "the commoners" and "the outcasts" like me. Especially the younger of my two brothers invested a lot of time and energy trying to garner the respect of his peers and being able to hang with the "in" crowd. And how many times he grieved my parents. And how many times did God give him a swift kick in the rear. I do recall, when he was a senior in high school, he was taking a drop-dead gorgeous chick to a motel in Maryland when his car broke down on Highway 1, and he had to call my dad to bail him out. Another time, AFTER promising not to have any beer bashes while my parents were on vacation, he fell asleep while drinking and, upon reviving, realized that his "Friends" had stolen my dad's VCR.
In the long run, that sad birthday saved me a lot of grief, by teaching me what was really important.
I do have many, many happy memories from childhood. Meanwhile, my mother, who fought me her whole life, finally, after being terminally ill for months, two week before she died, said "Michael, you were right about everything!", then made a good confession, and made her peace with God. Those were practically her last words. And they are my greatest gift, which may I always treasure.
It is hard to say whether your mother was being intentionally cruel, or was just misguided in an attempt to try and teach you a lesson. I always like to give a person the benefit of a doubt, unless there is absolutely no option.
One thing I would say: as it says in Proverbs: Never let the Sun go down on your anger. Yes, your mother might have been a diabolical narcissist. That is true. I have had such people in my life, and it is hard dealing with them. In fact, it takes courage to even admit that somebody we love might just be such a person.
That having been said, ultimately, we should see everything in our lives, both fortune and misfortune, as coming from God. And, someday, you might well understand why all these things happened. But in the meantime, it is not so much what we are bombarded with that makes us who and what we are, but how we react to them.
Our Lady also did not have a life that was a bed of roses by any stretch. Meanwhile, just look at the lives of those people who, as Gerald Celente says, were born on 3rd base and thought they had hit a Home Run.
Anybody who reads Donald Jeffries I consider to be a lucky man or woman, no matter the road they took to get there.
If you don’t see how intentionally cruel it is to tell a child they’re having a birthday party then not invite anyone, you’re really ignorant and worse. And thinking you understand my mother and her motives, or attempting to justify her twisted nature, is right in tune with the lack of introspection and lack of psychological insight and empathy I alluded to. You are part of the terrible sickness that pervades the world. As for anger, I’m not angry at my mother but I am angry at you. You might stop quoting proverbs and hiding behind “God” and pick up one of Alice Miller’s books. You might learn something valuable. What an idiot.
Im afraid you missed my point which is my mother was crazy … just like the children at your birthday party, you took my heartfelt share and not only told me I was lucky to be so abused, but made it about what a great childhood you had. In my experience there aren’t too many well loved children with empathy, and unfortunately you seem to still lack empathy. When my mother died no one in my family even bothered to tell me. I keep forgetting how personal posts are nearly always a mistake. It’s never DJ but people who respond. I guess it’s to be expected.
You didn't bore me, Donald. These stories you share humanizes you, like no other writer I've read on Substack. Your readers relate to you as a friend, because of your authenticity . Imho, the lack of response you described is due to #1. most people in alt-news-conspiracy, being more interested in making money, and becoming "famous" than they are in sharing the truth with as many folks as possible ...and #2 the rudeness and complete self-centeredness of 99% of people in America 2.0.
I can relate to what you wrote. I was reading adult books in third grade. I was writing and illustrating my own books at age eleven. I did research reports and made historical models...not for school...but to please myself. No adult ever took the slightest interest in me, or encouraged me in the least. When I was on tv in 1988 on a local quiz program, I didn't expect my family to show up (we were still speaking back then)... but it got embarrassing when I won the championship round. The winner was supposed to be joined on stage by their guests, to spin the big wheel. Embarrassment for all, was avoided when my boyfriend showed up at the last moment...if not it would have been a first on that show...and he only came because as the owner of a video production company, he wanted to see how the big boys did things.
I consider all this a great gift. It taught me to be a self-starter at an early age. When I want to do something, I never wait around for help, or an ok from someone else...I plunge in. It also gave me the gift of not caring what other people think of me. If one needs approval, or needs to be with others all the time...one might as well be in prison. I often tell folks that if I could bottle and sell the self-confidence I feel, I would be an instant millionaire. It's impossible to buy genuine self-confidence. It can only be earned by going through trials, and coming out fine on the other side. Given enough of these experiences, one begins to KNOW they can handle whatever may come.
After the show aired on tv, the only comments were from my dad: "Why did you miss that one question?" and my sister:"When are you going to take us all out to dinner with the money you won?" I realized early on, these types of folks never change.
Regarding your treatment by others in the field...to put it bluntly...I believe they feel threatened by your authenticity. You project this (at least to me) and those other "researchers" are shamed by it. You don't have to keep telling the world how wonderful you are, like Miles Mathis does.
Empathise but also appreciate your tale. We are all a combo of nature v nurture. I had Deaf parents so was an adult child with far too much responsibility and power at home but an inferiority complex hidden by a fairly confident and outgoing demeanor. No biggie. Embrace it all. We are the sum of our parts. Chorus to a song I wrote...
Oh so personal but we share
No not important but we care
Retrace the steps that brought us together
To us it's a miracle of fate
The sights, the sounds, the state of the weather....
Thanks for a glimpse into your personal life, Don. I stumbled across Crimes-Coverups two years ago on Amazon, then purchased Hidden History. Loved them both, hopefully one of my daughters will read them eventually as they are the only
people I know who realize many of the illusions of our world. My wife and I live in a golf community, mostly retirees, who have all (apparently) bought into the Covid scam. Cable news reports are gospel. We’ve seen some turbo cancer in our community over the past year, two friends went down, another is fighting hard right now to beat his cancer. A golf buddy of mine got the flu (with a positive PCR) last year, it lasted about a week, typical of flu, and he then proceeded to tell everyone that it would have been much worse had he not had the shots. Geesh! As one who’s been researching conspiracies for ten years, Covid was one of the most obvious to me but still most people don’t see it. People fight hard to keep their belief system intact. It can be a lonely world at times for those of us who see. Thanks for everything you do, Don!
Thank you for sharing your life experiences, Don. As usual I related totally to much of what you said. I was never overweight but instead suffered from chronic shyness and oversensitivity to others' emotions for most of my life. Strangely enough in recent years it's been replaced by an unwarranted arrogance. I guess I'll take it - feels like an improvement anyway. Anyway, I appreciate what you do - you express what a lot are feeling.
I certainly don't sense any arrogance in you, Smoke. As always, thanks!
Thanks Don. I'm sorry you had to go through all that crap as a youngster.
Lots of kids had it worse, Smoke. I was never physically abused, and always had a roof over my head. Thanks!
I too was always shy and aloof growing up. That all changed at the York Steak House when I got a job there. One day, being the fry cook on the broiler line, I was surrounded by chaos. Somebody was going to have to take charge. I guess that guy was me.
But I also wanted to be a good leader, not like a lot of people who use being the boss to their advantage, and impose their will on others. I always wanted to think I had the overall good of everybody in mind- the employees, the managers, the customers, and myslef.
You've definitely lead an interesting life White Wolf. I guess we all need experiences like that which will test our limits and hopefully we rise to the occasion. Thanks for sharing - good to hear from you Brother.
Growing up, I felt very insecure and introverted. Especially attending that Catholic grade school where the kids were truly mean. I was short for my age and a Plain Jane. Picked on by others, called stupid, ugly, you get the gist. I never spoke up to defend myself. There was always the fear of getting beaten. My parents argued a lot and us kids fought frequently with each other. There were 9 of us little Indians and not enough money to go around for food or clothing, and certainly NOT love. Looking back, we became one of the many dysfunctional families. How/when I changed to become more of a "better to be pissed off than pissed on" person, I don't know. Don't get me wrong, I still try and do nice things for others, smile, say hello, can I help you. But I can and have said, Whats your problem, go to hell, and even eff you. I understand where you're coming from. Perhaps when our faces get shoved into a pile of shit long enough, we just say Thats It. None of us is perfect, and maybe we're trying to hard for something that doesn't exist. But you seem to be one of the brave and intelligent people that the rest of us can admire, and relate to. A beacon that we don't have to feel so alone in this world. I enjoy your writings, so please, I hope you never feel awful about your life. Its the road that God gave to us, for some reason. Maybe because He knew that in the end, we would be the Strongest. Perhaps you should feel lucky that God wants you to stick around; I'm sure we will find out one day. Hugs to you, Don!
I really appreciate your support, Fran. It means a lot to me to hear that people get something out of my work. I'm finding out that almost no one was raised in a Cleaver type of home. Thanks!
No we were not. But its to be expected. If I had my choice, I wish I would have had a father like Ben Cartwright.
Very well said, Fran.
I enjoyed this post. Very raw and very personal. I can relate. I am a hyper-critical person too. Often very hard on myself and others too. I don't know why I'm that way, and sometimes I wish I wasn't, but I figure God must have made me that way for a reason--or I am just the product of a perfectionist mother. Thanks for relating your experiences with us. Your honesty is refreshing!
Thanks, Lisa!
Your biography never ceases to amaze me. Tiz a wonder you never ended in a psyche ward, or worse. At any rate, in school I was the polar opposite. I kept to myself, and kept to the library. Only once, on the playground, was I a superstar, when I discovered I had more athletic ability then the guys who went out for little league. My peers were amazed, and all congratulated me. But, the next day, they were all out to get me. The penthouse one day- the doghouse the next. I learned that fame, like the weather, was quite changeable, and the movement of the herd defied all logic or predelection.
Little League? You got to be kidding me. At the behest of my father, I signed on to Little League in the Second Grade. It sounded good. And playing baseball was fun. But wait a minute. After a long day at school, I had to go ride out to the field and practice for two hours in a field full of bugs and gnats? What about Speed Racer, and Star Trek, and the latest Library Book. Ah, but fame had too high a price, I decided, and resigned my commission. Moreover, I got hauled to my brothers' Little League games. I used to watch batters get taunted and parents argue over calls with the umpire. Not exactly the epitome of Christian Charity, I decided. The day I could stay Home Alone was the closest I ever got to a Rite of Passage. And I think my parents actually were relieved the house was not empty most nights- petty thievery was common back then.
I am amazed your family was not there to see your Great Hit at the Championship. My dad taxied my two brothers to the games for years. It was far and away his favorite hobby. I'm sure that if either of my brothers would have done something similar- God help the coach who did not award a trophy and copious recognition. The destruction of Sodom would have been nothing by comparison.
As for me, I have become quite used to being the little bug that is squashed the moment it becomes annoying. Just yesterday on a Catholic blog, I was accused of being uncharitable and giving the Church "bad optics", and that by the host in front of thirty other guests. No explanation. No attempt at refuting my arguments. Just "tone it down" or get banned.
So here's to getting canceled...
My childhood was a bit unusual, WW. I'm still holding out some stuff. I'm certainly an open book, but a few things aren't ready for public discussion. By the time I was 11, my father had retired on disability, and refused to drive any longer. I was one of those pathetic kids that had to get a ride to the practices and games from coaches or other parents. Later, when I coached my son's and daughter's teams, I was the one riding those kids to games and practices. I could definitely relate to them. Thanks for sharing your own interesting experiences!
At this point, Don, I really do not know what is "usual". I do know that the dysfunctionality we see all around us is largely a result of being in Sheepledom, the Crown Jewel of which is the Prussian Educational Model the vast majority of us experience in our childhood.
It at Prussian Model School that we are taught what really matters- fame and fortune, the pursuit of which all else be damned. And so we study, work our proverbial tails off, burn that candle at both ends and in the middle if necessary, go to college, graduate, and all the while adding to our resume- our chief concern in life, until we break through that Glass Ceiling onto Primrose Lane and world of I-Made-It.
That is what my brothers eventually did. And so they got to hang out with their artificial friends at their artificial church and their artificial clubs and learn the school of political correctness and trudge from one egotistical orgy to the next. That was the '80's, doing Facebook before there was Facebook. I recall my brother's first website. It was all about his daughter eating ice cream and making a mess of herself. Most uninteresting. But hey, in the early '90's if you wanted to be The Man you had to have a website.
[My first website was "Desertmonk's Kenner Girls", detailing my collection of Action Figures and my quests on procuring them- the slogs through corporate emails to pinpoint when the cases would ship and where in my vicinity they would pop up first, so I could be the first to own the latest Incarnation of Princess Leia or Ripley. (I kept my collection limited to just Kenner, and just females, to keep it under control. I knew some guys, like Yakface and Rebelscum, that had houses full of Star Wars paraphenalia...) It was actually an interesting website that got many hits at GeoCities and AngelFire, back in the Pioneer days of the web. I was also a fixture at "Overheard in the Aisles" at Action Figure Times, especially when I made my epic rant about Star Wars Episode I- The Phantom Movie.]
All I can say is, thank God for the Donald Jeffries that was short shrifted because he was obese. Otherwise, Donald Jeffries just might have ended up being a footnote at some Lamestream Media Propaganda Machine. Instead, I got the Donald Jeffries that wrote Hidden History and taught me all about Honest Abe, for which I will hopefully be eternal indebted.
One of my old priest friends was always saying that God writes straight with crooked lines. He sure does.
You are certainly an interesting guy, WW. I appreciate the kind words. If the incident with my brother hadn't happened, to uproot my life and form my opinion about the unfairness of the system, when I was just seven, I think I might have taken a more conventional path. My parents were too old to really give me proper guidance, or I might have been pressured into going to four year university somewhere. I would almost have certainly wound up with a better job, and a lot more wealth. But yeah, if I hadn't been radicalized so early, and found the system to my liking, then I surely wouldn't have written any of my books. Thanks!
I was still in grade school when my mother astonishingly decided to throw me a birthday party. I sat looking out the window for hours waiting for someone to show, no one ever did. The irony was-my mother proclaiming that the lesson was I should never trust anyone except my family. I’m not particularly stupid or bright (I guess) but I spent sixty years trying to figure it all out. I even graduated college with a degree in psychology. Still it took me 60 years to realize my mother hadn’t even invited anyone to the party. It was so evil my mind couldn’t even process it. It all runs deep and some of it we may never understand. I see why I relate so well to your posts.
Wow, Nancy. I can't imagine how that felt. I guess maybe you felt better in some way, when you learned she'd never invited anyone, and so your peers hadn't really rejected you like that. But then what did that make her? I'm constantly stunned at the depth of dysfunction in American families. Everyone seems to have a story to tell. Thanks for sharing yours!
What I came to realize was my mother was mentally ill, it was the only explanation for all the horror she visited on me. Alice Miller helped me understand, reading ! The greatest gift of my life, well besides my beloved dog Jack. 💕💕💕 Your posts allow me to open up a bit, share a little of myself.
I often think of trying to write a book chronicling all the dysfunction out there. It seems to be in almost every family. So many people have stories of varying degrees of tragedy, regarding parents, siblings, children, etc. They deserve to be heard. Thanks, Nancy!
IMO family dysfunction is the key to the dysfunction of the world. Trauma and child neglect and abuse. It’s generational.
I absolutely agree, Nancy. Thanks.
I recall my birthday party. You should be lucky that nobody was invited. Many of my classmates were at my party, and it was all about them, not about me. Nobody wanted to do what I wanted to do. They all did what I did not want to do. And so they were all out in the yard, running around, while I was opening some of my presents, which might as well have been a basket of rocks, for all I cared. I was so sad, I actually cried.
I think many of us would be in regular therapy if we could afford it, like most of the celebrities. Sorry to hear about that, WW.
Therapy never helped me. Most therapists psychologists psychiatrists are themselves pretty fucked up. So much so it’s nearly impossible for them to identify with ”you”, be your functioning helper. Alice Walker describes it the best. It’s hard to get through to a professional who believes in “honor thy father and mother” while they’re the ones destroying you heart and soul. It’s another layer of dysfunction in our crazy world. I’m not too familiar with the internal lives of many celebs but they seem to be a pretty messed up lot. Not too introspective generally. Yoga is good therapy if you can find a wonderfulteacher, but then again the rub.
Yes, I was sad at the time. But it was really a great blessing, which I learned in retrospect. Without all those "hard knocks" from my childhood I would not be the person I am today. I suppose God was telling me, early on, that this life is, as we say in the Salve Regina "a vale of tears". I know that Our Lady had a lot of "hard knocks" in her life too.
Little League is really one of the banes of modern society. It turned my brothers into obnoxious little twerps that had no time for "the commoners" and "the outcasts" like me. Especially the younger of my two brothers invested a lot of time and energy trying to garner the respect of his peers and being able to hang with the "in" crowd. And how many times he grieved my parents. And how many times did God give him a swift kick in the rear. I do recall, when he was a senior in high school, he was taking a drop-dead gorgeous chick to a motel in Maryland when his car broke down on Highway 1, and he had to call my dad to bail him out. Another time, AFTER promising not to have any beer bashes while my parents were on vacation, he fell asleep while drinking and, upon reviving, realized that his "Friends" had stolen my dad's VCR.
In the long run, that sad birthday saved me a lot of grief, by teaching me what was really important.
I do have many, many happy memories from childhood. Meanwhile, my mother, who fought me her whole life, finally, after being terminally ill for months, two week before she died, said "Michael, you were right about everything!", then made a good confession, and made her peace with God. Those were practically her last words. And they are my greatest gift, which may I always treasure.
That was a wonderful thing for your mother to say at the end, WW. I imagine that made up for a lot of things. Thanks!
So you think I was lucky to have a mother capable of such cruelty. Wake up.
Sorry- I thought your reply was directed to me, Nancy, since it appeared under my comment.
No worries. It was a bit confusing. You are always kind and thoughtful.
It is hard to say whether your mother was being intentionally cruel, or was just misguided in an attempt to try and teach you a lesson. I always like to give a person the benefit of a doubt, unless there is absolutely no option.
One thing I would say: as it says in Proverbs: Never let the Sun go down on your anger. Yes, your mother might have been a diabolical narcissist. That is true. I have had such people in my life, and it is hard dealing with them. In fact, it takes courage to even admit that somebody we love might just be such a person.
That having been said, ultimately, we should see everything in our lives, both fortune and misfortune, as coming from God. And, someday, you might well understand why all these things happened. But in the meantime, it is not so much what we are bombarded with that makes us who and what we are, but how we react to them.
Our Lady also did not have a life that was a bed of roses by any stretch. Meanwhile, just look at the lives of those people who, as Gerald Celente says, were born on 3rd base and thought they had hit a Home Run.
Anybody who reads Donald Jeffries I consider to be a lucky man or woman, no matter the road they took to get there.
regards.
If you don’t see how intentionally cruel it is to tell a child they’re having a birthday party then not invite anyone, you’re really ignorant and worse. And thinking you understand my mother and her motives, or attempting to justify her twisted nature, is right in tune with the lack of introspection and lack of psychological insight and empathy I alluded to. You are part of the terrible sickness that pervades the world. As for anger, I’m not angry at my mother but I am angry at you. You might stop quoting proverbs and hiding behind “God” and pick up one of Alice Miller’s books. You might learn something valuable. What an idiot.
I certainly wasn't talking about your mother, Nancy. I meant that WW's mother's comments at the end much have given him some solace.
Im afraid you missed my point which is my mother was crazy … just like the children at your birthday party, you took my heartfelt share and not only told me I was lucky to be so abused, but made it about what a great childhood you had. In my experience there aren’t too many well loved children with empathy, and unfortunately you seem to still lack empathy. When my mother died no one in my family even bothered to tell me. I keep forgetting how personal posts are nearly always a mistake. It’s never DJ but people who respond. I guess it’s to be expected.
You didn't bore me, Donald. These stories you share humanizes you, like no other writer I've read on Substack. Your readers relate to you as a friend, because of your authenticity . Imho, the lack of response you described is due to #1. most people in alt-news-conspiracy, being more interested in making money, and becoming "famous" than they are in sharing the truth with as many folks as possible ...and #2 the rudeness and complete self-centeredness of 99% of people in America 2.0.
I can relate to what you wrote. I was reading adult books in third grade. I was writing and illustrating my own books at age eleven. I did research reports and made historical models...not for school...but to please myself. No adult ever took the slightest interest in me, or encouraged me in the least. When I was on tv in 1988 on a local quiz program, I didn't expect my family to show up (we were still speaking back then)... but it got embarrassing when I won the championship round. The winner was supposed to be joined on stage by their guests, to spin the big wheel. Embarrassment for all, was avoided when my boyfriend showed up at the last moment...if not it would have been a first on that show...and he only came because as the owner of a video production company, he wanted to see how the big boys did things.
I consider all this a great gift. It taught me to be a self-starter at an early age. When I want to do something, I never wait around for help, or an ok from someone else...I plunge in. It also gave me the gift of not caring what other people think of me. If one needs approval, or needs to be with others all the time...one might as well be in prison. I often tell folks that if I could bottle and sell the self-confidence I feel, I would be an instant millionaire. It's impossible to buy genuine self-confidence. It can only be earned by going through trials, and coming out fine on the other side. Given enough of these experiences, one begins to KNOW they can handle whatever may come.
Wow, that is a very similar story, Kris. We really do have a lot in common. I very much appreciate all your kind words of encouragement. Thanks!
After the show aired on tv, the only comments were from my dad: "Why did you miss that one question?" and my sister:"When are you going to take us all out to dinner with the money you won?" I realized early on, these types of folks never change.
Regarding your treatment by others in the field...to put it bluntly...I believe they feel threatened by your authenticity. You project this (at least to me) and those other "researchers" are shamed by it. You don't have to keep telling the world how wonderful you are, like Miles Mathis does.
Empathise but also appreciate your tale. We are all a combo of nature v nurture. I had Deaf parents so was an adult child with far too much responsibility and power at home but an inferiority complex hidden by a fairly confident and outgoing demeanor. No biggie. Embrace it all. We are the sum of our parts. Chorus to a song I wrote...
Oh so personal but we share
No not important but we care
Retrace the steps that brought us together
To us it's a miracle of fate
The sights, the sounds, the state of the weather....
The things to which we relate....
Keep up the great work
Thanks, Paul!
Thanks for a glimpse into your personal life, Don. I stumbled across Crimes-Coverups two years ago on Amazon, then purchased Hidden History. Loved them both, hopefully one of my daughters will read them eventually as they are the only
people I know who realize many of the illusions of our world. My wife and I live in a golf community, mostly retirees, who have all (apparently) bought into the Covid scam. Cable news reports are gospel. We’ve seen some turbo cancer in our community over the past year, two friends went down, another is fighting hard right now to beat his cancer. A golf buddy of mine got the flu (with a positive PCR) last year, it lasted about a week, typical of flu, and he then proceeded to tell everyone that it would have been much worse had he not had the shots. Geesh! As one who’s been researching conspiracies for ten years, Covid was one of the most obvious to me but still most people don’t see it. People fight hard to keep their belief system intact. It can be a lonely world at times for those of us who see. Thanks for everything you do, Don!
I very much appreciate hearing that, Scott. Thank you!