When I was five years old I was sliding down a snow hill on a sheet of plastic that we called `crazy carpets` they were literally sheets of plastic with holes cut in them at the front to put your hands in to hold onto the sheet and keep it underneath you as you went down the hill. These sheets has sharp edges to them, something I found out a bit later that day.
My father's friends daughter, lets call her M, and I were going down the hill. I saw her go down on her stomach and thought that I wanted to try doing that as well. So I did just that, set myself on my stomach ontop of the sheet and started to go down the hill after her. I wanted to beat her down the hill so I was trying to make myself as fast as possible by keeping low to the ground. I caught up to her pretty fast. There is not steering mechanism on these carpets so I was basically just doing down after her without any control of where I would be going.
I don’t remember the moment and I don't remember the slice. I only remember crying down the hill and being at the bottom of the hill continuing to cry. As I caught up to M while laying down on my stomach I caught up to the corner of her carpet and these carpets we roll up as we transport them so they have a constant flick at the end of them so the corner is never completely flush to the ground. And as I caught up to the corner I suppose I was close enough to catch the corner just under my left eye and the edge was sharp enough to cut it open. Again I remember going down rest of the hill in pain and being at the bottom of the hill sitting there crying. I remember blood - that is for sure.
So what happened next was my father comes running down the hill once he sees me at the bottom crying with blood on my face. He picks me up, walks me up the hill and asks everyone around if they could drive me and him to the hospital - because we walked to the hill - it was not that far from the house we were living in. I remember the looks on their faces! Complete fear and lack of any empathy, lack of consideration for the situation…haha all I can think of if I were in that position would be `shit this boy will get blood all over the place` so needless to say no one volunteered to drive.
He walk me down the street, carrying me on his shoulder, muttering things about the people and their lack of hospitality. We get to our house and he sets me in the car while he gets a cloth with ice to put on the cut.
The next thing that I can remember is being at the hospital and the overwhelming sensation of being hurt has diminished, and I am really fine. There is not much pain, the bleeding has calmed down and I am really ok. I didn’t know what to expect and had no ideas what would happen next, and it turns out I needed five stitches under my eye. I was fine with that - again I had no pre-conceived ideas that stitches would hurt, so there was no fear - and they didn't hurt.
The nurses did their job and said what a `good boy` I had been for being complacent and cooperative during the whole process and that I deserve a treat for being `so good`. So what happens next? My father takes me out for McDonalds haha. This is why I entitle this McDonaldsization and Responsibility.
At the time of the stitches I was fine I was ok. I had no issues with anything that was going on. And so when the nurses said I was so good and that I deserves a reward for being good - I literally felt as if I had done nothing at all and deserved a reward for doing nothing at all. And I did get that reward. I mean something traumatizing happened to me and I was able to get over it while I waited to get stitches and as I was stabilizing myself I was told that I was being good and I deserve a treat for doing, from my perspective, nothing. From here on out I started to expect getting a treat for doing relatively nothing, I would expect candies and sugary foods for doing nothing, and just because I now wanted them. I didn't see them as a treat any longer but simply something that I could consume at any time because there was no significance going on within me as I got stitches no consideration of being good or being bad or doing anything special in that moment and I was accordingly rewarded for doing nothing special.
This is where and how the McDonaldsization of myself kicked in. I realize that I still live it today - I still expect rewards for putting in no effort, still expect money without putting in the effort within a job to get paid for it, still expect a high grade in school without putting in the effort to receive that high grade, and the overall realization of you get out what you put into something has escaped and avoided me for quite some time and I would frequently get aggravated at anything the proposed a bit of difficulty to get a reward out of, and most likely give up on the first mistake that I made - and I still find myself to this day repeating that same pattern in certain aspects of my reality - not living the realization that I will receive equally to that which I put in. I've expected life to be easy and with an abundance of reward for putting in little to no effort, and in this I have thus come to look for those quick and easy fixes, those quick and easy fixes of a point of happiness within consuming sugar or masturbating or watching television etc, and have consequently addicted myself to the quick and easy energy fixes. And I have not allowed myself to realize that I will receive that which I give and if I give nothing I will receive nothing - which is essentially how I have lived my life - given no effort to most of that which I will attempt to do - only in recent years have I started to stop this pattern.
So the next blog post will be SF on this memory and the want and expectation of quick fixes of happiness/energy and the addiction that I've allowed myself to exist within the relationship of energy and positivity with myself.