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  • Writer's pictureQuinn

Murdered my ego

That's pretty much what 2020 did for me. I can't say "to me" without sounding like a daft damsel. The pandemic exacerbated a few brutal wake up calls but for the first time in my life--I've never felt more full of my Self. Those wake up calls were actually opportunities for me to face some of my most treacherous demons head on. Looking back on this past year, it's genuinely the first time I can also say--"I did that all myself." My ego never let me believe I could. Then 2020 came along...

The easiest way for me to explain what the "ego" is--is to say that it's our sense of self. Freud would go on to draw the connection between an individual's sense of self and the "preconceived notions" (beliefs, bias, rationalizations) they carry into everything they will ever relate to (person, place or thing). The ego is intrinsically oriented and is generally sensitive to extrinsic "confrontations". What I mean by that--is that our ego makes us sensitive (both positively & negatively) to other's feelings towards and about us (but those feelings rooted in ego as well). Unfortunately, the development of our ego is severely impacted by our childhood experiences and other indoctrinations of tradition (generational traumas).

My ego, pre-2020 was rooted in victimhood. Plain and simple, I fully lived like I was born to be used up by others. Consistently sought out relationships that were toxic, lacked balance and centered on nurturing self sabotage. It was not a conscious devoted effort, but an ego response to having been abandoned, sexually abused and spoiled rotten by parents whose love language is gift giving, rather than quality time.

The ego is not a conscious decision made about the self-- but rather the self's mirrored reflection, within the minds own eye. Lacking dimension, limiting perspective, ass backwards and distorted by external conditions.

The years leading up to the pandemic I spent desperately trying to define, express and quench this ego of mine--this sense of self. It was utterly exhausting and genuinely unsustainable. My sense of self was so perverted from trauma that I couldn't possibly reach any goal I had set for my self. Every step came with imposter syndrome, a lack of motivation, an inability to commit or decide but also this huge desire to be happy simply just be me. My ego was holding me hostage and I couldn't figure out why I felt like a stranger to my higher self (which Freud poetically defined as the "super-ego").

Maybe I cried it out or screamed it out or fucked it out. But when I lost all of the rituals and routines I had so strategically set to stroke my ego, I finally had to put my actual Self together. I can't say "back together" because the first version was someone else's rough draft. In the early stage, it was so hard to make confident choices and I felt 100% uprooted. Like a baby giraffe that just fell to the hay. Blinded by a lack of boundaries and limits to who I could be or "should" be--according to someone else's ego. Crying out at night when no one else could even hear me and sitting silently during the days--listening for some sort of answer. For someone to tell me who I'm supposed to be, what I'm supposed to want, what I need to do.

After those early stages and the silence, I began to see my prayers being answered. My ability to manifest was always there--only I was manifesting from my stupid fucking ego. After those early stages, my inner voice was gaining momentum & strength--my "super-ego". I began taking on the task of re-wiring and re-rooting into this new life I was pushed into. At this point I would say that my ego feels like a phantom limb that still gets injured and manifests in my weaker moments. But once I was able to identify my ego and narrow down all of those bad self-circuits, I could intentionally go back and heal that circuit. My "super-ego" speaks affirmations from the moment I wake up until the moment I go to sleep.

The voices of my ego and super-ego are so energetically different, at this stage, that the contrast feels shocking. I know my ego the moment her ghost re-appears.

I wouldn't generally recommend ego death by force but for some of us--it will be unavoidable. There will come a time when the illusion must fall. There will come a time when the true self must come from behind the curtain and fend. Those who know me and who have seen me evolve know that my ego death was a blessing. I can't tell you how many people have connected with me to offer admirations, thanks for inspirations and well wishes. The truth is that I still cry, I still grieve, I still get rip-roaringly drunk & my phantom-ego still get's wounded--but that voice is a whisper now. A tap on the shoulder compared to the gut-punches my old ego could really deliver.

So here's a toast to 2020 and the death of my fucking ego y'all. Nothing left to look back...


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