Daddy issues yet again
Are you ready to talk about EMOTIONS?
sigh.
In ACA (Adult Children of Alcoholics and dysfunctional families) one of the first resources you come across is the Laundry List. It's a list of characteristics that many Adult Children share because of our upbringing. Sure, not every Adult Child matches the laundry list exactly, but it's definitely spot on enough to know that it's very very real.The Laundry List:
- We became isolated and afraid of people and authority figures.
- We became approval seekers and lost our identity in the process.
- We are frightened by angry people and any personal criticism.
- We either become alcoholics, marry them or both, or find another compulsive personality such as a workaholic to fulfill our sick abandonment needs.
- We live life from the viewpoint of victims and we are attracted by that weakness in our love and friendship relationships.
- We have an overdeveloped sense of responsibility and it is easier for us to be concerned with others rather than ourselves; this enables us not to look too closely at our own faults, etc.
- We get guilt feelings when we stand up for ourselves instead of giving in to others.
- We became addicted to excitement.
- We confuse love and pity and tend to “love” people we can “pity” and “rescue.”
- We have “stuffed” our feelings from our traumatic childhoods and have lost the ability to feel or express our feelings because it hurts so much (Denial).
- We judge ourselves harshly and have a very low sense of self-esteem.
- We are dependent personalities who are terrified of abandonment and will do anything to hold on to a relationship in order not to experience painful abandonment feelings, which we received from living with sick people who were never there emotionally for us.
- Alcoholism is a family disease, and we became para-alcoholics and took on the characteristics of that disease even though we did not pick up the drink.
- Para-alcoholics are reactors rather than actors.
Anyone who knows me knows that I am for sure not addicted to excitement. Like no way, I'd like to live my calm, safe life over here, please and thank you. But a LOT of the items on this list are spot on. And let me tell you, it's kind of relieving to know that I am not alone in this.
I'll go ahead and add this disclaimer: of course, some people have these characteristics without the traumatic childhood. I'm not saying people had to grow up with an alcoholic parent in order to stuff their feelings or be afraid of abandonment. This list just happens to encapsulate the majority of Adult Children's struggle.
Every time I read this list, something different thing grabs a hold of me.
Like number two: I have definitely lost myself in some friendships and relationships. Some days I still dwell on whether or not someone likes me before I wake up and remember it doesn't matter what some stranger on the street thinks about me.
Or number eleven: I am absolutely my own harshest judge. I disappoint myself continually.
Lately, number four and eleven have just been bashing me over the head. I was sitting in group (aka my ACA meeting) listening to the opening reading of the laundry list and I just heard "sick abandonment needs". In my head, I heard the echo of my therapist's voice: "Why do you think it is you fall for people who aren't able to be there for you emotionally?"
ouch.
But I sat in that room letting the words wash over me and I was transported back to my childhood. And that desperate, hollow, clawing feeling that surrounded my relationship with my dad. I wanted him to love me SO badly. I was desperate for his notice, his approval. I wanted to feel safe around him, really, I guess. Like I could just live my normal life and he would live it with me, you know? But instead, I was like constantly the teacher's pet, trying to do better, be better, heck even pointing out other people's failures so that teacher would like me best. Or at all.
But see, here's a thing that happened constantly. My dad was continually bragging about me. He told everyone how smart I was("she knows how to use a computer better than most adults I've met"), how strong I was ("she can lift me off the ground, watch, she'll show you"), how grown up I was("she handled that conversation so well for such a young age..."). But the bragging was never actually about me. It was about him. He had in his possession a trophy of a child and it just made him shine.
When my parents separated for the final time, I had finally gotten to the point in my life where I hated my dad. I saw through all of his bullshit and his selfishness. I saw how he had treated my mother. I saw through, well, just SOME of his emotional manipulation. I was ready to just cut him right out of my life. But you know, relationships with parents are complicated, right? So even though I HATED him, I really really REALLY wanted him to try.
You know in those really cheesy movies about a jackass who has a change of heart and like suddenly works really hard to get people back into his life? Like, okay this isn't cheesy, really, but Mrs. Doubtfire, where Robin Williams literally dresses in drag and pretends to be an old lady just so that he can see his kids? Or in Hook where Robin Williams finally realizes he fucked up and learns how to be Pan and how to fly and have food fights and fun and does everything to save his children? I wanted that. I wanted a dad who would work hard at getting me back into his life. I mean, I wouldn't have said no to having Robin Williams just be my dad, that would have worked too probably.
But like, really. I deserved to be worked for. I deserved to be loved so much that someone would fight battles for me.
My mom fought battles for me. My dad? he did not. He let me just walk right out of his life. Many times, really. Because I kept thinking maybe it was a fluke. Maybe he was just being really respectful of my wishes, maybe he heard me say get out and he listened. So I would change my mind, go back, try to get him to love me again. And get hurt again. And leave again. And he would never ever try.
Sure he would write me checks when I needed some money. He was so proud that he paid for all of my college textbooks. (my mom actually co-signed the loans, so let me tell you, $250 a semester was chump fucking change, but you know, have your glory or whatever.)
But like there was a line that he never quite extended over.
I called HIM to schedule dinners. I called HIM to plan the next time we would meet. He never called me. And he defended it by saying he was going by my terms, following the letter of my law. But that was a bunch of bullshit.
I think that probably it wasn't just that he was an asshole. I mean, he was. He was a giant asshole. I think he was also really insecure though. He didn't want to risk me saying no, maybe. Like if he was only there when I asked him to show up, he wouldn't ever have to experience me telling him to leave.
But I don't think my heart knows it yet.
I think my heart is so used to the game of chasing people that it just doesn't know when it's happening until I've totally exhausted myself and start resenting the other person. "I've spent all this time running after you, why don't you ever run after me?" "I've bent backwards to fit into your life, why can't you bend for me?"
^^^ questions I have asked myself in like all of my past relationships.
I bend too far.
No, that's not it. I bend further than I should for people who don't return the favor. Because I am so ready to bend for people. I am a river, going with the flow. I am totally down with changing my life to fit people into it. But I bend further, probably, than other people can or would, and then I am hurt so very badly that they haven't done the same for me.
I seriously don't know how to fix it. Because bending is an important part of relationships. It's healthy and necessary for people to bend and flow their lives together to create intimacy. I'm not just talking romance, here, I'm talking any relationship. Boss, coworker, friend, parent.... everyone has to bend a little. Compromise.
It's the same thing with this addiction I apparently have with giving too much. We all have to give a little. We all have to eat. I just happen to do both to excess.
And you know what, I'm also sitting here listening to a whole bunch of feminist hoopla in my head about how I shouldn't need to be chased. I am an independent, strong woman and I need no one. But it's too late. I'm too human. I'm already bruised and tired and heartsick and lonely and dear goddess I just want someone to take care of me.
This is my forever battle. It's myriad: I have to find and treasure the people in my life who do show up. My friends who are here for me when I'm broken. My mom. My brother. My Fred Weasley. I also have to be my own knight sometimes though. I have to stand myself up and remind myself that I am a beautiful child of the moon, and I am strong beyond measure (but also it's okay that I'm weak). And I also have to be oh so gentle on myself when I find myself fighting this useless battle again and again. I have lived 30 years of wanting someone to stand up for me. It will always hurt. I will always find myself reverting to that behavior of bending too far. It's okay. I'm only human.
Lately, number four and eleven have just been bashing me over the head. I was sitting in group (aka my ACA meeting) listening to the opening reading of the laundry list and I just heard "sick abandonment needs". In my head, I heard the echo of my therapist's voice: "Why do you think it is you fall for people who aren't able to be there for you emotionally?"
ouch.
but, like, good question, spirit of therapist, past.
But I sat in that room letting the words wash over me and I was transported back to my childhood. And that desperate, hollow, clawing feeling that surrounded my relationship with my dad. I wanted him to love me SO badly. I was desperate for his notice, his approval. I wanted to feel safe around him, really, I guess. Like I could just live my normal life and he would live it with me, you know? But instead, I was like constantly the teacher's pet, trying to do better, be better, heck even pointing out other people's failures so that teacher would like me best. Or at all.
But see, here's a thing that happened constantly. My dad was continually bragging about me. He told everyone how smart I was("she knows how to use a computer better than most adults I've met"), how strong I was ("she can lift me off the ground, watch, she'll show you"), how grown up I was("she handled that conversation so well for such a young age..."). But the bragging was never actually about me. It was about him. He had in his possession a trophy of a child and it just made him shine.
When my parents separated for the final time, I had finally gotten to the point in my life where I hated my dad. I saw through all of his bullshit and his selfishness. I saw how he had treated my mother. I saw through, well, just SOME of his emotional manipulation. I was ready to just cut him right out of my life. But you know, relationships with parents are complicated, right? So even though I HATED him, I really really REALLY wanted him to try.
I wanted him to try and win me back. To try and get back into my good graces. I wanted him to reach out to me, call me, write me a letter. I wanted him to tell me "I am so very sorry, please can we try again?"
What I got instead was a whole bunch of "I'm sorry you feel this way." A whole bunch of silence. Of him moaning and moping to everyone who would listen that his wife had abandoned him and taken his children, blah blah blah.You know in those really cheesy movies about a jackass who has a change of heart and like suddenly works really hard to get people back into his life? Like, okay this isn't cheesy, really, but Mrs. Doubtfire, where Robin Williams literally dresses in drag and pretends to be an old lady just so that he can see his kids? Or in Hook where Robin Williams finally realizes he fucked up and learns how to be Pan and how to fly and have food fights and fun and does everything to save his children? I wanted that. I wanted a dad who would work hard at getting me back into his life. I mean, I wouldn't have said no to having Robin Williams just be my dad, that would have worked too probably.
But like, really. I deserved to be worked for. I deserved to be loved so much that someone would fight battles for me.
My mom fought battles for me. My dad? he did not. He let me just walk right out of his life. Many times, really. Because I kept thinking maybe it was a fluke. Maybe he was just being really respectful of my wishes, maybe he heard me say get out and he listened. So I would change my mind, go back, try to get him to love me again. And get hurt again. And leave again. And he would never ever try.
Sure he would write me checks when I needed some money. He was so proud that he paid for all of my college textbooks. (my mom actually co-signed the loans, so let me tell you, $250 a semester was chump fucking change, but you know, have your glory or whatever.)
But like there was a line that he never quite extended over.
I called HIM to schedule dinners. I called HIM to plan the next time we would meet. He never called me. And he defended it by saying he was going by my terms, following the letter of my law. But that was a bunch of bullshit.
I think that probably it wasn't just that he was an asshole. I mean, he was. He was a giant asshole. I think he was also really insecure though. He didn't want to risk me saying no, maybe. Like if he was only there when I asked him to show up, he wouldn't ever have to experience me telling him to leave.
But you know what? That's not enough. That's not enough for a little girl. That's not enough for any girl. That's not enough for me.
And in my head, I know this. I know that it's okay for me to expect someone to just be in my life because they want to be in my life. It's okay to want someone to pursue ME for a change.But I don't think my heart knows it yet.
I think my heart is so used to the game of chasing people that it just doesn't know when it's happening until I've totally exhausted myself and start resenting the other person. "I've spent all this time running after you, why don't you ever run after me?" "I've bent backwards to fit into your life, why can't you bend for me?"
^^^ questions I have asked myself in like all of my past relationships.
I bend too far.
No, that's not it. I bend further than I should for people who don't return the favor. Because I am so ready to bend for people. I am a river, going with the flow. I am totally down with changing my life to fit people into it. But I bend further, probably, than other people can or would, and then I am hurt so very badly that they haven't done the same for me.
I seriously don't know how to fix it. Because bending is an important part of relationships. It's healthy and necessary for people to bend and flow their lives together to create intimacy. I'm not just talking romance, here, I'm talking any relationship. Boss, coworker, friend, parent.... everyone has to bend a little. Compromise.
But I never know when it's too much.
When I was going to Overeater's Anonymous, we talked a lot about how difficult it is to deal with food addiction. With alcohol or drugs, you can get to a point where you never ever take in that substance again. You can cut it entirely out of your life and that helps you from relapsing. But food? We all have to eat food. I will never ever be able to cut food out of my life like an alcoholic can cut out alcohol. So I have to like stand my ground and face my addiction eye to eye every damn day. fucking exhausting.It's the same thing with this addiction I apparently have with giving too much. We all have to give a little. We all have to eat. I just happen to do both to excess.
And you know what, I'm also sitting here listening to a whole bunch of feminist hoopla in my head about how I shouldn't need to be chased. I am an independent, strong woman and I need no one. But it's too late. I'm too human. I'm already bruised and tired and heartsick and lonely and dear goddess I just want someone to take care of me.
This is my forever battle. It's myriad: I have to find and treasure the people in my life who do show up. My friends who are here for me when I'm broken. My mom. My brother. My Fred Weasley. I also have to be my own knight sometimes though. I have to stand myself up and remind myself that I am a beautiful child of the moon, and I am strong beyond measure (but also it's okay that I'm weak). And I also have to be oh so gentle on myself when I find myself fighting this useless battle again and again. I have lived 30 years of wanting someone to stand up for me. It will always hurt. I will always find myself reverting to that behavior of bending too far. It's okay. I'm only human.
Yes, I'm a beautiful child of the moon, but I am also just human. And the moon loves me. The moon shows up for me every night, whether I can see her or not. The moon is always there for me. And I can't force people to be like the moon for me. But I can treasure the ones who are.
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