Unshelved by Bill Barnes and Gene Ambaum
comic strip overdue media

Thursday, June 15, 2006

How do I heal?

I think that's going to be a question for my therapist tomorrow. Over the last few days I've had quite a few conversations where the upshot is that I need to take responsibility for making my life better, because I am my own worst enemy at this point; certain things that were put into place as I was growing up set the stage, but I'm the one who continues the abuse and neglect of my childhood.

I was listening to Blue October's "Hate Me", which captures mental illness pretty well and always stirs up feelings because I've been that person who thinks that others would be better without her, and I've been the person that would be better without the crazy people in her life, too. It especially brings up memories of my father, my ex-husband/ex-bosom companion (long story), my own issues. I mean, I know that I have certain chemical issues--a tendency towards depression, anxiety issues, OCD, ADHD--but so much of my struggles aren't because of that, which is relatively easy to take care of with medication. No, it's far more deep-seated issues from my childhood that built a series of coping mechanisms that now imprison me rather than help me.

I was essentially an intelligent, precocious, and precious gift--a healthy child full of curiosity and personality. Unfortunately, the people who were my life--my parents--were caught up in their own lives, their own struggles, and frankly didn't want to be bothered. That, coupled with the isolation of always moving and starting over, meant I had very little stability outside of school's structure. So I grew up as one friend put it, 'raised by wolves', in a sort of social vacuum where my only real encouragement was in school and I somehow evolved the idea that like school, I could win accolades from the people who were supposed to love me by being certain things. I became a quiet, "good girl" who didn't cause any trouble because she never took chances. I became passive, following my mother's lead. I became, in some ways, invisible, because I knew from a fairly early age that I was not really wanted and was in the way, especially in relation to my father, who on top of not really being able to interact comfortably with a child, being overly critical, and being emotionally crushing and abusive, couldn't handle having a child who he perceived as smarter than he himself. Unlike the natural tendency for parents to encourage and want their children to go forth and blossom beyond their own limitations, he competed with his child and under the guise of teaching criticised every attempt to grasp higher concepts that I had. It left me with a loathing of logic and algebra, for example, two things he tried to 'teach' me and essentially crippled my ability to think quantitatively and qualitatively because I was so scarred by the experience. I went from being a toddler who was operating in 3rd to 4th grade math to thinking of myself as a failure and unable to do algebra...it took me three years to finally 'get' it through school. To this day I tend to compartmentalise so that I can analyse and do well so long as I'm doing it in an academic setting (teachers were the few adults who encouraged me, and even a few of them really thought I was showing off instead of being a sponge for new ideas), but in my everyday life, I don't really think. Most people don't, of course, not really. Our minds are full of details of small talk and schedules, rather than higher questions of the universe or figuring out and solving problems. Mostly we react to situations and other people. But the sad thing is I know I'm capable of working on a higher level of philosophy and ethics, of success through problem-solving, of having a real genius for thought and a zest for life...and yet I'm crippled by all the emotional issues I carry from that warped childhood. I feel ashamed because I watch one friend who aspires improve herself in ways I'm not sure she's quite capable, but she's trying, and through sheer determination rather than natural talent, she may succeed, whereas I have the talent but not the drive, and furthermore am wracked with lots of self-doubt and tend to stumble out of sheer fear of success. So instead I come off like an idiot in things I say and do, and I don't live up to my potential, either intellectually or in life. I'm just learning to take the risks in meeting new people and developing relationships, but I haven't taken it to the level of a romantic relationship as of yet. That still frightens me. I'm emotionally crippled as well as intellectually, and the thing is, most people think I do pretty well, but I know I'm only coasting through life and doing what is necessary rather than doing what I can--and I'm tired of that.

And the sad thing is I realise how much my experiences crippled me, and yet it could have been far worse--and for many children who struggle to adulthood, it is so much worse, and I wish I could make a difference in terms of those who can be saved, but I'm afraid that if I got involved in a child's life I'd just repeat the mistakes of my parents, so maybe it's good that I don't have children of my own and am unlikely to have them. And I know there are adults who are far more scarred and who do so much better in some ways than I do. I'm not sure I can do anything about them. What I can do is do something for myself.

Some part of me has tried to recapture my childhood, both in my actions and in my orientation in life, which tends towards the past rather than the future. I watched a programme with a little girl with ADHD trying to get attention from her mother and realised I act the same way exactly...not a pleasant thing in a grown woman in her 30s, nearly 40. The thing is, my childhood will never be what I wanted, and what I deserved. I need to let it go. There are good things about being in touch with an inner child, but that child shouldn't rule your adult life.

I wish I could just rip out the parts of me that aren't pretty, aren't functional, but they're a part of me and I don't think it's so much like weeding out the unwanted as taking the good out with the bad...it's too integrated at this point.

But I'm the one who has been choosing not to live up to my potential in all aspects of my life--jobs, friendship, thinking, relationships. It's time to heal and move on, and become more forward-thinking. It's time to really be me and to let myself take a chance and become something beyond what I am. In many ways my parents raised a troll who cowers under the bridge away from people and tries to keep them at bay. They could have raised a butterfly (as one friend put it), but they didn't, and that's sad. And I built a cocoon to keep out the world, a wall between myself and others, rather than a chrysalis of transformation. It's up to me to create that butterfly (which is a little ironical given the name I chose when I changed my name, Eilir, means butterfly, renewal, rebirth, and spring). I need to finish the transformation I began when I left an abusive relationship, cut off ties with my father, changed my name, and started down the road to a better life. I'm the only thing keeping me back at this point. No longer. I choose to become the person I was supposed to be, a thinking person who blends emotion and rational thought in wise mind, who takes risks, who lives life. Anything less is unacceptable. That is the first step to healing, to taking me life back. It's time to take charge and learn to not only go with the flow, but to swim forward.

PS If you're reading this and you have a child in your life, think about what you do to honour the gift you've been given. You are that child's world--so much of what you do will affect him or her. Take time to encourage the unique gifts of a child. So he bangs on the piano. Don't tell him he can't play--get him lessons, even if it's inconvenient. Interests nurtured can have lifelong results.

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