Post by turquoise on Feb 5, 2011 20:26:42 GMT -8
I was not abused, that I can recall. In my job, I've heard countless stories of abuse, which are sometimes horrifying. There are stories here. There are stories everywhere. I haven't been forced to endure such awful things, and yet I have so much resentment about my childhood. By comparison, I had a great time. So it's a cycle - I feel sad/angry/resentful about what happened, then I feel that I'm selfish and overreactive for feeling that way & should have let it all go years ago, then I push it all down, then I act out on the feelings that I pushed down, then the childhood events come flooding back, so I feel sad/angry/resentful, and the cycle continues.
My parents were 17 when I was born in the 60's. They got married during the last trimester & divorced when I was a toddler. I was a scandal & an embarrassment & unwanted. My mother trained me with her anger & irritation not to bother her with any needs of any kind. I think this is why I rarely call friends & family or drop by, to this day. They have always had to come to me first. Even as a kid, I had serious anxiety about going to a friend's house & knocking on the door to see if they could come out to play. I was petrified about approaching kids on the playground. My stepdad knew I had trouble making friends & told me once "you'll have to go up & talk to them. Nobody's going to run up to you and grab your hand & ask you to come play." One day, a little girl ran up to me, grabbed my hand & said "come on!" I was so stunned that I just stared at her. She shrugged & ran away.
My dad was a rare sight. Never called & rarely paid child support, & my mother made sure I knew it. The weekends I did spend at his house, I spent in the guest room alone because he did his own thing. He blamed our lack of contact on me not calling him, even when I was 7 years old.
In 9th grade, my stepmother told me to let my teachers know I would be out for a certain week because we were all going to Disney World. They went without me & didn't tell me that I wasn't going. It was so embarrassing when people said "I thought you were going to Disney this week"
Neither parent attended any of my activities or graduations. My mother let me start driving alone at 14 with no license so she wouldn't have to drive me anywhere. At this point, I had lots of friends, and used a set of them as a substitute family. I soaked up attention from my friends' mothers like a sponge. My dad sometimes told me to come over but usually forgot & wouldn't be home when I got there.
When I was 16, I started spending more time at my grandparents' home because it was closer to my school and I knew they loved me. I'd usually stay there a few days, go home a few days, etc. One day I went home & thought the house had been broken into because almost everything was gone. Found out months later that my mother & stepdad had moved to another state.
Neither parent were interested in helping me when I was in college, whether financially or just by being supportive. My father flipped out & screamed like a crazy person when he found out my major. Told me what a bad decision I was making, during the course of a 2 hour rage. Years later, when I achieved success in my field, he bragged about me to everyone who would listen. Made him look good.
Ok, typing all that out was an experiment, or a test. I wanted to see if it felt childish & selfish & overreactive to type out all the details, or if it all really reads to be as bad as it feels. It feels like the first option. And please, I am really not fishing for validation, here - I am not out for anyone to tell me that yes, my childhood was bad & I have a right to feel this way. But I have this nagging feeling that my guilt is part of my sickness, part of my problem. Like the neglect, the abandonment, the abuse I tolerated in my relationships with men, I keep trying to classify my childhood experiences as "not so bad." But the last 3 months have been a series of revelations to me, and I am seeing my dysfunctional relationship patterns more clearly than I ever have in my life, and I am becoming increasingly aware of how the feelings of being a bother & insignificant as a child have been driving my behaviors. I expect to be abandoned and I manipulate every relationship until I get exactly what I expect.
All this time, I thought I was in control. I thought I had forgiven and rationalized all the neglect and packed it all away. I've been told for as long as I can remember that I am so strong, so confident, so together, so independent. I think I learned long ago to project that image. It keeps people away, really, and when you don't ask for help or seem to need it, it's not so disappointing when you don't get it. Just like when I don't really expect to be treated well by men, and tell myself that I'm just expecting too much.
I welcome any thoughts, & don't hold back. I need some real perspective here.
My parents were 17 when I was born in the 60's. They got married during the last trimester & divorced when I was a toddler. I was a scandal & an embarrassment & unwanted. My mother trained me with her anger & irritation not to bother her with any needs of any kind. I think this is why I rarely call friends & family or drop by, to this day. They have always had to come to me first. Even as a kid, I had serious anxiety about going to a friend's house & knocking on the door to see if they could come out to play. I was petrified about approaching kids on the playground. My stepdad knew I had trouble making friends & told me once "you'll have to go up & talk to them. Nobody's going to run up to you and grab your hand & ask you to come play." One day, a little girl ran up to me, grabbed my hand & said "come on!" I was so stunned that I just stared at her. She shrugged & ran away.
My dad was a rare sight. Never called & rarely paid child support, & my mother made sure I knew it. The weekends I did spend at his house, I spent in the guest room alone because he did his own thing. He blamed our lack of contact on me not calling him, even when I was 7 years old.
In 9th grade, my stepmother told me to let my teachers know I would be out for a certain week because we were all going to Disney World. They went without me & didn't tell me that I wasn't going. It was so embarrassing when people said "I thought you were going to Disney this week"
Neither parent attended any of my activities or graduations. My mother let me start driving alone at 14 with no license so she wouldn't have to drive me anywhere. At this point, I had lots of friends, and used a set of them as a substitute family. I soaked up attention from my friends' mothers like a sponge. My dad sometimes told me to come over but usually forgot & wouldn't be home when I got there.
When I was 16, I started spending more time at my grandparents' home because it was closer to my school and I knew they loved me. I'd usually stay there a few days, go home a few days, etc. One day I went home & thought the house had been broken into because almost everything was gone. Found out months later that my mother & stepdad had moved to another state.
Neither parent were interested in helping me when I was in college, whether financially or just by being supportive. My father flipped out & screamed like a crazy person when he found out my major. Told me what a bad decision I was making, during the course of a 2 hour rage. Years later, when I achieved success in my field, he bragged about me to everyone who would listen. Made him look good.
Ok, typing all that out was an experiment, or a test. I wanted to see if it felt childish & selfish & overreactive to type out all the details, or if it all really reads to be as bad as it feels. It feels like the first option. And please, I am really not fishing for validation, here - I am not out for anyone to tell me that yes, my childhood was bad & I have a right to feel this way. But I have this nagging feeling that my guilt is part of my sickness, part of my problem. Like the neglect, the abandonment, the abuse I tolerated in my relationships with men, I keep trying to classify my childhood experiences as "not so bad." But the last 3 months have been a series of revelations to me, and I am seeing my dysfunctional relationship patterns more clearly than I ever have in my life, and I am becoming increasingly aware of how the feelings of being a bother & insignificant as a child have been driving my behaviors. I expect to be abandoned and I manipulate every relationship until I get exactly what I expect.
All this time, I thought I was in control. I thought I had forgiven and rationalized all the neglect and packed it all away. I've been told for as long as I can remember that I am so strong, so confident, so together, so independent. I think I learned long ago to project that image. It keeps people away, really, and when you don't ask for help or seem to need it, it's not so disappointing when you don't get it. Just like when I don't really expect to be treated well by men, and tell myself that I'm just expecting too much.
I welcome any thoughts, & don't hold back. I need some real perspective here.
But it has meaning now, now that I'm really facing everything. Neither parent is/was toxic or mean, just too young, too emotionally immature, too wrapped up in themselves to be good parents. It shouldn't be too terribly difficult to truly forgive them after I get through the work of feeling it, etc.