The last few days have been very trying, and as I said, I didn’t want this blog to become a pity party, so I haven’t been posting lately.
My last few sessions at the therapist have resulted in learning more about my parent’s influence on my life. I know, how cliché! I thought I had that stuff figured out, but it seems that there’s even more crap in the basement!
Both my parent’s experienced a lot of abuse as children and although they did not pass on the physical aspects of that abuse on to me, it did imprint on me a sense of fear and reservation. Without going into too much detail, my father ruled the household with his loud voice and “my way or the highway” attitude, whereas my mother was very reserved and showed her anger in a strong and silent way. She was not one to show affection.
What does this mean for me? Well, it reaffirmed what I already knew in that I always choose partners who are highly opinionated and unavailable as well as I’m always seeking approval outside myself. What’s been new for me though is the idea that my ridged thinking was adopted from my parent’s reaction to their own trauma.
Typically, when a child is raised in an abusive home, they try to create an environment in which they have some control. This makes sense as the environment they grew up in was one in which they had no control (among other things). It leaves one to have a very ridged way of thinking, which both my parent’s had and vocalized to me. So without intending to (as all parents do) I still received the repercussion of their childhood abuse.
It shows in how strict I am with my ideas about myself. “I need to have this figured out now.”, “I should know better by now!”, “I have failed as I don’t know what I want anymore.” and so on and so on.
It’s a huge challenge to distinguish between my voice and my parents voice, but all I’ve been told to do is notice. The slave driver in my hates that, but I know that it’s all in the process.