***This post is the sister post to the new page "How To Be Erased" They're meant to offer a dual perspective on a single topic. The post is meant to reflect the view of the damaged and demented. The page is blunt with research from the lab. It's obvious in each that people need to be nicer to people.
My primary objective of identifying the authentic self is in tact. As is my belief about my assignment in the world. The route I planned to write myself through to find it, however, is not the route I'm on. As I said in my introduction, my life has a separate use for me than the one I planned for it.
The words I write aren't the man that I am, and they're certainly not the law. When you share your writing with others, you give up control of it, and your job is for the most part, over. The words I write are just one physical shape of an idea. Whatever does or doesn't happen to them is now up to the reader, and their reaction.
If you enter the page without expecting anything in return, and never write with that as motivation, you may find that the responses shared with you have a deeper, hidden value in them. Whether the response is a complaint, or a compliment, doesn't matter. Something about the individual who made it will be in there, and that piece tells you if you're in deep enough to strike a nerve. To find something real requires you dare to be transparent, and go deeper.
Decorator Crab
I started wondering if something was wrong with me somewhere during my high school years, and that concern stayed with me until just recently. I tried for years to do the basic things people do in daily life, but was met with ineptitude, and failure. I tried to find joy where people seemed to find it, but never escaped feeling empty. I watched enviously as everyone I knew interacted with comfort and ease, while I stumbled in a heap behind them. Everyone seemed to know how to make friends, and establish belonging, except me.
When I left for college at 18, and entered the world for the first time, my concern grew deeper. I floundered in every attempt, at anything. I had no direction, or plan, and I was failing to make friends. Most frustrating of all was that it wasn't due to a lack of effort, or isolation. I worked hard. I had people around me, too. But I wasn't one of them, or gaining access. Something was missing.
My college years, and the first couple years immediately after, were the loneliest years of my life.
Dark, what's the point lonely, with no remedy. I had days of such unpredictability, that I'd make myself go outside, and sit in one spot, all day, until it was alright to go home and go to bed. I was afraid that if I didn't do that, I'd do something worse to myself.
To alleviate some of the loneliness I became an expert decorator crab. The decorator crab enters an environment, and looks around. It notes what is most common, and agreeable to those already inhabiting the space, and then begins collecting those items, and gluing them on its shell. It gives itself a makeover until there's no dresser crab in sight. Just a reflection of the environment. The decorator crab's gift is its ability to relinquish 'self' to blend in. It does it to hunt. I did it to avoid being outcast. And it came easy, thanks to how I'd been trained.
One of the things I discovered when I left home was that I had no idea how to create, or maintain, relationship. Nor did I have any tools. The only modeling I'd seen went in the opposite direction, but where I'd seen it, it worked. So that's what I applied to the relationships I was forming.
In addition, where I came from relationships were valuable for two reasons:
When I left for college at 18, and entered the world for the first time, my concern grew deeper. I floundered in every attempt, at anything. I had no direction, or plan, and I was failing to make friends. Most frustrating of all was that it wasn't due to a lack of effort, or isolation. I worked hard. I had people around me, too. But I wasn't one of them, or gaining access. Something was missing.
My college years, and the first couple years immediately after, were the loneliest years of my life.
Dark, what's the point lonely, with no remedy. I had days of such unpredictability, that I'd make myself go outside, and sit in one spot, all day, until it was alright to go home and go to bed. I was afraid that if I didn't do that, I'd do something worse to myself.
To alleviate some of the loneliness I became an expert decorator crab. The decorator crab enters an environment, and looks around. It notes what is most common, and agreeable to those already inhabiting the space, and then begins collecting those items, and gluing them on its shell. It gives itself a makeover until there's no dresser crab in sight. Just a reflection of the environment. The decorator crab's gift is its ability to relinquish 'self' to blend in. It does it to hunt. I did it to avoid being outcast. And it came easy, thanks to how I'd been trained.
In addition, where I came from relationships were valuable for two reasons:
- They provide insulation from anything that threatens to discover your secrets.
- And they serve you, and your self interests. The love you provide is dependent upon how well your partner serves you.
I didn't know yet, that the only part I would play in relationship would be the second part, or that the people who chose me were there, in part, because of that. No one ever told me I wasn't required to earn love, or that it should be freely given.
The second thing I discovered, almost as immediately, was I had adopted the role my family assigned so completely, it now defined me. It had become my identity. I made no attempts to pursue what I deeply wanted, or desired, and I accepted being unloved. My entry into the world was accompanied by a deep-seeded belief that I was undeserving of those things, and if I wanted love I had to earn it. I'd play near, or around what I truly desired just to be close to them. But I never went toward them, or asked them to come to me. That stuff's for other dudes.
I believed everyone I met knew it, as well.
I believed everyone I met knew it, as well.
That was the truth my family told me.
I just didn't know yet, they were lying.
Dis-funk-shunned
The scary thing about psychological dysfunction is its stealth. It gets in and out, without being seen, every time.
To be clear, the term 'dysfunction' is being used as it relates, in general, to what's acceptable, and common, in the larger society. 'Dysfunction' describes the tools, and habits, that are commonly shown to result in damage to the individual who receives them. For example, hitting a child is 'dysfunctional' because it doesn't necessarily correct the child's behavior, and it causes psychological damage. Sitting the child down to discuss the issue, explaining why the behavior is wrong, assessing for understanding, and teaching accountability, would not be considered dysfunctional. Neglecting the basic physical needs of a child, and abandoning the child's psychological, and emotional, needs would also be considered dysfunctional, for obvious reasons.
To identify the dysfunctional patterns within the family you came from is more difficult. In that family, the behaviors serve very important functions, functions that help to navigate a chaotic environment. They may be allowing everyone to survive. Usually, it isn't until the damaged individuals move out, and into community, that they begin to notice their wounds. They notice them because the context they made sense in has been removed. One of two things will happen at this point. The individual either meets the dysfunction to heal, and begin a new paradigm, or they find a new person, or group with a similar history, and dysfunction, that perpetuates the two dysfunctions as a blend of one. This successfully extends the dysfunction without having to address it, and life goes on.
Until one partner, partner 'A' starts growing uncomfortable with the agreement, and wants to change (because it only takes one to disrupt the entire system). If Partner B isn't ready to change, the relationship will either end, or an assault will be made through every avenue of dysfunction Partner B knows to keep Partner A from leaving. Partner B may remind Partner A that they're nothing without them, or that they're guaranteed to fail if they go.. Partner B may make a rush on all your shared assets, and belongings, so that if you do go, you go with nothing, thinking that if you have nothing, you won't. Partner B may corral every person Partner A knows that is a potential point of support, into their stall, so Partner A will have no one. And Partner B may spread stories, and tell lies, orchestrated to destroy the credibility, and character, of their Partner A.
Or they may do them all.
Why? Because Partner A, the one who previously supported the agreement you made, knows all Partner B's secrets. And if those get out, everyone will know that the perfect image they've worked so hard to portray to the world, is false.
When you learn to recognize what you, and your family did that was dysfunctional, identifying it isn't difficult. You'll see it in everything. You'll see patterns in your history. For example, almost every woman I had a relationship with approached me, rather than the opposite. Does that mean that true love can't be found that way? No. It means that I never chose anything, I agreed to it. Just like I had learned. I owe an apology to all of them, because it was set up to fail before it began. I just didn't know it.
*I'm watching one sibling nestle into her dysfunction, while crusading against it, as I write this. My sibling is unhappy about me telling my story, and accusing me of making it up. There was no dysfunction according to my sibling, and nothing I say happened to me, did. She's so upset, in fact, she went around me to be able to have my sons as her captive audience. Never mind that she has instructed her two children not to speak to me for the past 8 years, and that I've honored it, whether I agree with it, or not. She's afraid I'll say some of what I'm saying here, so she insulated them from me (No dysfunction?). She claims they can't see me because I'm "dangerous". I had the privilege of getting to know her son when he played freshman football where I'm a coach (after her attempts to have me removed, failed). I think he'd tell you differently.
My sibling got permission from my ex to sit them down, and make them hear her story(No dysfunction?), a story with the singular objective of discounting mine, their father's(No dysfunction?), in an effort to manipulate how she is seen by them(No dysfunction?). They told her they weren't interested in hearing it, but, just like my voice in my family, theirs was ignored(No dysfunction?), and they were made to listen.
When she was done, my sister instructed my teenage sons not to tell me(No dysfunction?), and it would be their little secret(There's that word again. No dysfunction?). They told me immediately. I have acquaintance with a lot of families, and I can't think of a single one that would allow something like that to happen, let alone encourage it.
No dysfunction, my ass.It happened. All of it, and some I'm leaving out, on purpose. Maybe not all of it happened to everyone, but what happened to me, did. Nothing could be more real. In the past, efforts to debunk my claims would have left me doubting them. Today, they tell me I'm dead center.
My story is simply being told, not forced upon anyone, including my sons. All three know it's here. All three have chosen to ignore it. They get to assemble their own narratives.
Burrow Up
The key word in my self-analysis("I started wondering if something was wrong with me...) is 'wondering', at least for me. It implies that nothing's obvious, or standing out. It implies it might all be in my head.
Maybe. But, no.
If that's the cup you're gonna have me piss in, be prepared to explain how what's in my head, got there.
A quick inventory on what's known...
- No physical, or developmental disability.
- No missing appendages, or senses.
- No lack of motivation.
- No lack of effort.
- Likable.
- Smart.
- Funny.
- Gorgeous.
There's nothing wrong with you.
Relax already.'
Relax already.'
It emerged from a depth in me that I used to visit, but had abandoned. And it had a familiarity to it.. As it rose up I realized what it was, and that it had been there the entire time, preserving itself, and hoping my efforts would preserve it. It was the part of myself that defined me. The part I thought I'd lost, or had taken away.
I could feel it in me as it burrowed slowly toward the surface to push its head above ground, like a gopher seeing if it was safe to emerge. It never moved when other people were nearby. It was expert at stillness, and silence. There was caution in me now because of what I'd been through. Distrust. A lot of it. I can remember, faintly, what it was like before I needed it, but just barely.
While it was careful to hide from others, it was trusting me more every day. It was keeping its head in the world a little longer with each surfacing. The time I spent alone had metamorphosed into the most empowering, and enriching time I spent. I was getting reacquainted with myself. My time alone increased. Dramatically.
I didn't know what was wrong with me, but I had a feeling it was somehow related to that gopher. I could feel it.
In fact, I knew it.
What came to the surface was what I had pushed down. I pushed it to the bottom in a desperate act to preserve it. When it appeared again, I embraced it as if it were me, as if it were the best parts of me.
What's Broke is Broken
I know now that you can't fix what's broken in me, and I no longer try (see How To Be Erased). 'Balance' works as a strategy. Ironically, so does indulgence. A lifetime of no one looking in on you, or asking what you need, gets embedded too deeply to remove. And if the 'normal life' that you lived, the one that provides the definition for your 'normal', gets kneaded in, you'll remain unaware that there are other 'normals' out there as alternatives. But when you are grown the way I was any option to request what you want, or what you need, isn't an option at all. Not with the formula I was given:
If no one takes the time to care for me then x equals I'm probably not worth it. And if you ask for what was never offered and multiply it by PI they'll laugh out loud at you, and offer even less, divide by xy, so don't do it
When you arrive at the only solution you can arrive at you see the logic in it:
A) If who you are gets you nothing from the people who were supposed to love you, you learn to abandon who you are, for what they need.
B) If, becoming what they need garners you a little attention, you start doing it so much it takes over, even when you're out in the world. Before you know it, the real you has ceased to exist. Sadly, people will line up around the block to use you, until you learn how to utter the word 'no'.
C) If, when they up the ante, and use you as a fill-in for a father who's habitually absent, or figure out how to position you in the spotlight for all punishable crimes and behaviors, you feel something you haven't felt a lot of, and you think what you feel is Love, you agree to anything you're asked to do, or to be, because Love feels better than you dreamed.
D) If, after the terrifying discovery that love can be taken away after it's given, and after being threatened by those who provide it that they'll walk away together, and leave you loveless, and alone, and unwanted, you finally refuse to play by the rules they've written, and think being alone might be better.
E) If you decide to abandon yourself completely, and become what they need, and ask for, until you despise yourself for having done so, a day might come where you tell them you no longer will, and a gopher will rise within you.
A drop of love is better than no love at all, even if it's toxic. Ask any child. When you finally learn how to love yourself, even if no one else will, the love you provide will provide an answer to what's ailed you. When you understand that you have no difficulty giving love away, or receiving it, you'll know that the cup you need to piss in isn't yours.
It's theirs.
Shame on you all.
Not because you did it once upon a time,
because in that time it was the order.
Shame on those of you who do it still.
