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Family of Origin
Work and Germany Part II: Abandonment Recovery
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<blockquote data-quote="Copabanana" data-source="post: 674231" data-attributes="member: 18958"><p>Yes.</p><p>This is what M thinks. That my son never lacked for anything. He saw having as his natural right. Not by his own efforts. By mine. To create need, for my son, is just a signal for others, not himself, to provide. That is what M thinks.</p><p>Except that no money is one thing. But what about the conditions that go with no money? Like no house. No food. No fun. No car. My son accepts these too. He could care less he has no drivers license. In fact, he says, he never again wants one. And never wants to drive. It is like he incorporates each loss and owns it instead of using it as a motivator to surmount and overcome. The exact opposite as was I.</p><p></p><p>Every single thing he loses, he acclimates himself to, and declares it the life he wants. Instead, of the reverse. Striving to replace it and get more, which is what I would do. I would have been desperate to get out of the hole so that I surpassed others.</p><p>Mine, no. I had a great humanity and empathy as a child. Now he is hard and mean. At least to me.</p><p></p><p>I am not laughing.</p><p>I am not sure the context of this quote. I will guess.</p><p></p><p>I think for me, I chose empathy and sensitivity and kindness...because in the heart of me, I was none of these. It was what they call a reaction formation. One adopts the opposite of that in oneself one most fears. In my case: rage, entitlement, competition, attention...I wanted to win...but I held myself back...because the winner's circle was for my mother and my sister.</p><p></p><p>I became the opposite.</p><p>Because we have killed off parts of ourselves..which we have never fully renounced. And the shame still makes it twist itself to be manifested. We need to identify it and to channel it cleanly and clearly and intentionally.</p><p>Yes.</p><p></p><p>Could this be going on with my son, who is a martyr? That attention, winning, producing got twisted and is only expressed through his defeat? How will he ever get over it?</p><p>I slurped it up, shamelessly.</p><p></p><p>M tried to help me out yesterday when the computer was broken. He said. My Goodness. The keyboard is full of food. I was only mildly ashamed. The rest of me was defiant. I love to defy him, in a childish and self-indulgent way. Just to be bad, bad, bad.</p><p>My entitlement is manifested by going to bed. Eating there. Triumphantly. Wrecking the computer. And mocking anybody who dares to question me.</p><p>Yes.</p><p></p><p>I bought the equipment, the props for every single activity I could think of that had passed my mind to do. Photography. Painting. Drawing. Weaving. Spinning yarn. Crochet. Knitting. Embroidery. Needlepoint. Making socks. Fishing. Camping. Boating. Surfing. Open water swimming. Triathlon. Scuba. Kayaking. (Until I bought 2 Kayaks and I could not get in. I returned them.)</p><p></p><p>I had harbored the idea that I would sell a lot of it on Ebay. Until I found the never used wetsuits. They were covered in cat hair. I envisioned the Ebay listing: Wetsuits. Never used. Covered in fur. (Or washed only once, to remove cat fur. Never used.)</p><p></p><p>And then after I bought the props for the imaginary life, I started on my body. Shoes and boots and leggings and jeggings and sweaters etcetera.</p><p></p><p>And then I bought jewelry. (I had already many many scarves from the thrift store.)</p><p>Yes. That was the idea.</p><p>And wanted to be, all those years past. That too.</p><p>And future ones too.</p><p>Yes.</p><p></p><p>I keep trying to deal with the fact that here I am finally wanting to "be everything I can be...all that I can be (the join the Army slogan)...and I am this old thing. Gray. Wrinkled. Fat. Old. In paid. Lagging. Lacking.</p><p>This I do not understand.</p><p>Oh I get it. To accept ourselves as imperfect. As real. As not in role, but in real.</p><p></p><p>I did not get the memo. I still feel I need role to go out and meet the world. Real is in the house. In the bed. Remember every time I got dressed I wore the same cotton shirt and pants which I washed everyday. Winter or summer for 2 years I wore defiantly the same thing, while I bought all my props to create a life which I refused to live.</p><p></p><p>How pathetic am I.</p><p>I hope so. I have the props. But the thing is, are they for a dream or a reality. How do I decide? What I want to be real? How do I know?</p><p></p><p>I am back to that horrible question:</p><p></p><p>What do I want? How do I know?</p><p>Or we incorporated only our own negatives. I am not sure which it is for me.</p><p></p><p>COPA</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Copabanana, post: 674231, member: 18958"] Yes. This is what M thinks. That my son never lacked for anything. He saw having as his natural right. Not by his own efforts. By mine. To create need, for my son, is just a signal for others, not himself, to provide. That is what M thinks. Except that no money is one thing. But what about the conditions that go with no money? Like no house. No food. No fun. No car. My son accepts these too. He could care less he has no drivers license. In fact, he says, he never again wants one. And never wants to drive. It is like he incorporates each loss and owns it instead of using it as a motivator to surmount and overcome. The exact opposite as was I. Every single thing he loses, he acclimates himself to, and declares it the life he wants. Instead, of the reverse. Striving to replace it and get more, which is what I would do. I would have been desperate to get out of the hole so that I surpassed others. Mine, no. I had a great humanity and empathy as a child. Now he is hard and mean. At least to me. I am not laughing. I am not sure the context of this quote. I will guess. I think for me, I chose empathy and sensitivity and kindness...because in the heart of me, I was none of these. It was what they call a reaction formation. One adopts the opposite of that in oneself one most fears. In my case: rage, entitlement, competition, attention...I wanted to win...but I held myself back...because the winner's circle was for my mother and my sister. I became the opposite. Because we have killed off parts of ourselves..which we have never fully renounced. And the shame still makes it twist itself to be manifested. We need to identify it and to channel it cleanly and clearly and intentionally. Yes. Could this be going on with my son, who is a martyr? That attention, winning, producing got twisted and is only expressed through his defeat? How will he ever get over it? I slurped it up, shamelessly. M tried to help me out yesterday when the computer was broken. He said. My Goodness. The keyboard is full of food. I was only mildly ashamed. The rest of me was defiant. I love to defy him, in a childish and self-indulgent way. Just to be bad, bad, bad. My entitlement is manifested by going to bed. Eating there. Triumphantly. Wrecking the computer. And mocking anybody who dares to question me. Yes. I bought the equipment, the props for every single activity I could think of that had passed my mind to do. Photography. Painting. Drawing. Weaving. Spinning yarn. Crochet. Knitting. Embroidery. Needlepoint. Making socks. Fishing. Camping. Boating. Surfing. Open water swimming. Triathlon. Scuba. Kayaking. (Until I bought 2 Kayaks and I could not get in. I returned them.) I had harbored the idea that I would sell a lot of it on Ebay. Until I found the never used wetsuits. They were covered in cat hair. I envisioned the Ebay listing: Wetsuits. Never used. Covered in fur. (Or washed only once, to remove cat fur. Never used.) And then after I bought the props for the imaginary life, I started on my body. Shoes and boots and leggings and jeggings and sweaters etcetera. And then I bought jewelry. (I had already many many scarves from the thrift store.) Yes. That was the idea. And wanted to be, all those years past. That too. And future ones too. Yes. I keep trying to deal with the fact that here I am finally wanting to "be everything I can be...all that I can be (the join the Army slogan)...and I am this old thing. Gray. Wrinkled. Fat. Old. In paid. Lagging. Lacking. This I do not understand. Oh I get it. To accept ourselves as imperfect. As real. As not in role, but in real. I did not get the memo. I still feel I need role to go out and meet the world. Real is in the house. In the bed. Remember every time I got dressed I wore the same cotton shirt and pants which I washed everyday. Winter or summer for 2 years I wore defiantly the same thing, while I bought all my props to create a life which I refused to live. How pathetic am I. I hope so. I have the props. But the thing is, are they for a dream or a reality. How do I decide? What I want to be real? How do I know? I am back to that horrible question: What do I want? How do I know? Or we incorporated only our own negatives. I am not sure which it is for me. COPA [/QUOTE]
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