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Family of Origin
You fill the bill. Then, who am I?
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<blockquote data-quote="Copabanana" data-source="post: 681018" data-attributes="member: 18958"><p>I think in my case, my fear is not about my son as much as it is about myself. And my relationship with my father. My father left when I was 8. I loved him very much.</p><p></p><p>His life after that was a long decline. My life after that until I left home was very hard. I had nobody who put me first. I was very alone.</p><p></p><p>Five or six years before my father's death I decided to not have contact with him. I felt degraded by him and his living circumstances. What he had become. Who he had become. I felt that I could not be the person who was in me to be with him in my life. It was not a difficult decision to make. But it was a difficult decision to live. I did not miss him. But I think I felt horrified at some level I did not understand that my life required such bitter choices.</p><p></p><p>You see, almost all of my life, I think I felt defined by the chaos of my family. I did not realize until these last few seconds the meaning of this thread to me. <em>My father's name was Bill. </em>I do believe in Freudian theory in these regards. That our consciousness is a tip of the iceberg. Can you believe I did not make the connection until this minute?</p><p></p><p>So, I felt defined by my first "bill" who I can barely even bear to think about. Then who am I? if my father leaves me, abandons me, degrades me, slanders me?</p><p></p><p>So who would be surprised that I felt deep inside me that I was defective?</p><p>You see, while I tried to do this, I do not believe the fear was about my son. It was about my father and myself.</p><p></p><p>That if my son self-destructed, it would be me that did so with him. As it was with my father. Even though I was not defined by my father, I was defined in myself, by myself in relation to him.</p><p>I think the end of the story in my life was always degradation and betrayal and loss. That that end was always what I fought to resist.</p><p></p><p>When my son skirts degradation in his life, I feel desperately that my own feared outcome will come as a result. I feel that the only way to deal with it was as I did with my father. Renunciation. Actually, maybe my father felt shunned but my intention was not to act against in him but to save myself.</p><p></p><p>I am seeing that by staying in the game with my son I am offered the opportunity to put to rest if I can, these demons in myself. My son is not my father. First of all, they are direct opposites. My son is a good person. There is nobody that can say anything different. Even me.</p><p></p><p>I think, actually know, that on a feeling state I never moved far beyond that child who was left. Who played in the street not wanting to go home. That pretty, sweet young woman who sat next to her father on a barstool.</p><p></p><p>When I fear my son is going down I watch with horror. I am appalled . I try to run. In this I abandon my child, refusing to engage with my own demons which I have made central in our relationship, even though all but I are long dead.</p><p></p><p>This is an appointment with hope.</p><p></p><p>My son grew up knowing with the deepest of certainties that he filled the bill for his mother who loved him with all her heart and soul no matter what. Now, as he describes it, he feels demonized by that very same mother. He knows it is not him. I believe he is well-mothered enough to not desert himself. But I have deserted him because I have deserted myself--running away from my father and the fear and heartache of the past.</p><p></p><p>But this is an appointment with love, too. I loved my father and he loved me. Maybe I can find a way to resurrect it.</p><p></p><p>COPA</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Copabanana, post: 681018, member: 18958"] I think in my case, my fear is not about my son as much as it is about myself. And my relationship with my father. My father left when I was 8. I loved him very much. His life after that was a long decline. My life after that until I left home was very hard. I had nobody who put me first. I was very alone. Five or six years before my father's death I decided to not have contact with him. I felt degraded by him and his living circumstances. What he had become. Who he had become. I felt that I could not be the person who was in me to be with him in my life. It was not a difficult decision to make. But it was a difficult decision to live. I did not miss him. But I think I felt horrified at some level I did not understand that my life required such bitter choices. You see, almost all of my life, I think I felt defined by the chaos of my family. I did not realize until these last few seconds the meaning of this thread to me. [I]My father's name was Bill. [/I]I do believe in Freudian theory in these regards. That our consciousness is a tip of the iceberg. Can you believe I did not make the connection until this minute? So, I felt defined by my first "bill" who I can barely even bear to think about. Then who am I? if my father leaves me, abandons me, degrades me, slanders me? So who would be surprised that I felt deep inside me that I was defective? You see, while I tried to do this, I do not believe the fear was about my son. It was about my father and myself. That if my son self-destructed, it would be me that did so with him. As it was with my father. Even though I was not defined by my father, I was defined in myself, by myself in relation to him. I think the end of the story in my life was always degradation and betrayal and loss. That that end was always what I fought to resist. When my son skirts degradation in his life, I feel desperately that my own feared outcome will come as a result. I feel that the only way to deal with it was as I did with my father. Renunciation. Actually, maybe my father felt shunned but my intention was not to act against in him but to save myself. I am seeing that by staying in the game with my son I am offered the opportunity to put to rest if I can, these demons in myself. My son is not my father. First of all, they are direct opposites. My son is a good person. There is nobody that can say anything different. Even me. I think, actually know, that on a feeling state I never moved far beyond that child who was left. Who played in the street not wanting to go home. That pretty, sweet young woman who sat next to her father on a barstool. When I fear my son is going down I watch with horror. I am appalled . I try to run. In this I abandon my child, refusing to engage with my own demons which I have made central in our relationship, even though all but I are long dead. This is an appointment with hope. My son grew up knowing with the deepest of certainties that he filled the bill for his mother who loved him with all her heart and soul no matter what. Now, as he describes it, he feels demonized by that very same mother. He knows it is not him. I believe he is well-mothered enough to not desert himself. But I have deserted him because I have deserted myself--running away from my father and the fear and heartache of the past. But this is an appointment with love, too. I loved my father and he loved me. Maybe I can find a way to resurrect it. COPA [/QUOTE]
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