It is said that people with heavy plutonian influence in their blueprints have a harder path to walk in this life. There is often severe early trauma and it just goes on from there. Anyone who thinks astrology is a bunch of bologna should probably interview anyone with Pluto in their first house especially and see what comes up. I have very fluid opinions about everything but for whatever reason, this has been on my mind since yesterday.
I watched a series recently called Station Eleven (highly recommend!) and this quote keeps running in my mind:
I remember damage. And escape. Then adrift in a stranger’s galaxy for a long time. But I’m safe now.
Healing is not linear, we all know that by now. So even though I do really well, considering, I am not surprised by some new revelation about the amount of violence I experienced repeatedly throughout my life, when it decides to come knocking at the most inconvenient of times. It’s those times when it hits you fresh or some skewed lens gets removed and you really see it for what feels like the first time. We get to learn so much now about these things, if we choose to. All we had growing up were encyclopedias and tv shows and on birthdays, a rented VCR and some movies. But with these fresh glimpses comes fresh compassion. At this point in my life, I have learned the skills of holding more than one feeling, of allowing what feelings I have, and of not judging those things anymore. Maybe that’s when the real work begins. It has to move like a river. And I’ve had a lot of very large rocks stopping the flow for a lot of years. That’s ok too, by the way. We do what we can do.
I think a lot about how violence in particular, when witnessed or a direct victim of, starting at a young age and then repeating itself over and over with different faces, can sort of erode into a hole in one’s sense of self. It can erode any sense of stability. It can make a person feel very alone, even amongst other trauma survivors. And I’m not one for comparing trauma to trauma. But what I’m saying is that violence, physical violence, is a different flavor when it comes to the aftermath of a developing person. For the sensitive, one can make many conclusions about one’s worth or lack of. There has been a voice in my head for as long as I can remember who does not want me to be alive. It whispers and yells and says the most atrocious things about how I am too stupid, too ugly and too twisted to be loved ever. It goes out of it’s way to fracture my sense of reality and incites panic that I will not be able to function as an adult and I’m going to fuck everything up.
And then, not to mention how that violent behavior gets logged as some kind of normal, hence the repetition throughout one’s life. Most of the people I’ve experienced violence from were people who were very popular overall. The rest of the world experienced them as charming and magnetic. To this day, I am very skeptical of anyone with any kind of popularity. Anyone who the masses, even small masses, lift up as Someone To Gush About. I stalk comment threads and scrutinize interactions, especially if it’s someone in my life that has even a hint of this pattern going on. I can’t help it. These people have so often been the ones who, if not violent, then at the very least, thrown me under the bus after talking very sweetly. I take things literally but I’ve had to learn that not everyone means what they say. I feel quite stupid for how long it’s taken, but then compassion comes in to remind me of my neurology and trauma history.
So the whole trope about people with Pluto in the first house of self is true as far as I’m concerned. Just like Pluto, we often feel alone, sort of drifting way out in the solar system, wrapped in an enigma. Poor Pluto got his title of Planet taken away at one point and I find that very relatable. Plutonians are never going to be popular, despite their magnetism. You either love us or hate us. We are intense little creatures, carrying all that pain around. I can laugh and hand out seratonin like a boss, but deep down, I will always be carrying pain. Here’s the thing though: if you want someone to hold your pain with you, that’s what we are good at. We are also good at reminding you that you are ok exactly as you are. And you’ll know we mean it because we’ve been through the shit, burned to ash over and over and rose again to tell about it. I think we are entering a time collectively when more and more people are going to come face to face with their own pain. It’s already begun. Maybe then I will find my purpose. I’ve been preparing for it my whole life.
I drifted for a long time and found a home in myself. I traveled and traveled and became many things and now I am safe as myself. I remember damage. I will never forget. I became a master of escape. And I think about how all this morality that we assign to everything is a huge stone in the river, holding us back. None of us has an instruction manual for life. And those of us who sustained severe damage need to remember we are fighting at a deficit. Our biggest lesson is to rest. Feel. Let it be what it is. Wherever you are, you are doing great. I promise.