I’m still not sure why some people go through such pain and some not as scarring. I used to think that there was a reason to everything but now I’m not so sure.
There are some things that affect me that I think last a lifetime and will always be a struggle and if you choose to be optimistic, an uphill battle but a battle nonetheless. A karmic cycle? But nowadays I feel like that’s the mind’s rationalization, grasping for nonexistant straws. Grasping for anything.
Does the environment you grow up in determine what you believe and think? How about the environment starting in the womb? A womb can be cold, hostile, resentful, full of fear–that fear growing into controlling, manipulating, put-downs, emotional and terrible physical abuse. My “mother” still cannot leave her own home, her own prison, because she is afraid, afraid of what she doesn’t know and what she can’t control. Fear can make you do funny things. Not everyone wakes up from societal chains or their own self-made chains.
And even if and when you’ve cut out toxic people from your life, do you ever really detach? You certainly try. You run, you scream, you try to burst through, trying to come back to yourself, the way you bursted through that terror of a womb. I carry that person with me through my internal dialogue, the voices of judgement and anger and hatred in my head. It’s a lifelong sad–clumsily cloaked as “strong”–attempt to recondition those voices. That coldness that’s enveloped me since before I even knew what that was. And through it all, I admit I don’t feel strong. I feel tired and sad, sad that I lost a childhood I deserved, sad for others who feel the same way, sad that others never understand and sad that I even expect anyone to (another wonderful byproduct of ever-seeking parent approval).
And the most saddening thing about those who have been through trauma and abuse, is the belief that is branded in those seemingly concrete chromosomes–”It’s my fault.” Your adolescent mind finds a way to make sense of it and it always goes back to this. I used to try to “understand” the other person (including my mother), that they are also damaged and I should be the bigger person. In effect, only guilt would pile on atop the other mangled clump of emotions. I now believe that that is only a way to subconsciously keep that toxic person near you, or at least in you, keeping that poison present, perhaps attracting continuous poison to you in other forms and people. It doesn’t matter who the other person is, even if they birthed you–if they keep re-opening, digging, spitting in the wounds, LET GO. I can only be the bigger person when I take care of myself first.
There is so much attachment stigma to Family. “But that’s your mom.” Sometimes the person(s) closest to you hurts you the most. Sometimes people can know their child their whole life and never truly meet them and find out who they truly are, or even care to. And just because they are “family” does not give them a pass.
Is life just a futile attempt at finding some kind of sound connection once detached from the umbilical cord? Who said that–Freud? I can believe it.