Voicelessness and Emotional Survival > Voicelessness and Emotional Survival Message Board
Shame
BonesMS:
--- Quote from: Starlight on June 01, 2012, 02:06:36 AM ---Thanks Bones N' Phoenix,
Bones: Um, hum. Know what? I'm watching this DVD from the library about the history of beer. Says something about "THE CULTURE OF PLEASURE" and how when German's first brought the concept of beer gardens to America the AMERICANS were amazed/shocked or dumbfounded all of the above about the idea that Pleasure was an important and valid ritual.
Also got a DVD on cheese making--not so much that I will do it.
Guess the skirt is a little indulgence, it's used pink silk and I washed it, came out wrinkly but I don't care, I just wear it to bed anyhow, maybe it's sort of bohemian now that it's wrinkled--sort of like if a princess went over Niagara Falls.
Phoenix: Shame and unacknowledged Grief????
Hum--Culture of Pleasure
--- End quote ---
Hey, Starlight.
From my perspective.....after the HELL we endured growing up with N's, I think we've earned the right to indulge in a little fun.
Bones
sKePTiKal:
Yup, unacknowledged grief.
My mind was able to concoct a lot of different way to avoid accepting the heartbreaking realization that my mom was never, ever going to see me - as me - and be happy about who I am, what I've done, and be proud of me. So many of my conscious/unconscious choices were actually motivated by the desire to run away from that realization. I guess that's a pretty good working definition of neurotic, huh?
And of course, one feels shame too via that realization - as in, I must be a horrible, awful, worthless excuse for a human if my OWN MOTHER can't connect to me in a positive, mutually caring relationship. That's really the source, I think, of all kinds of self-harm habits -- a form of self-punishment for screwing up BEING, so badly... that the only way my mom relates to me is when I'm mothering HER.
I can "tag" this particular life-experience for a lot of mysterious, unintentional (at least to my mind), ways I've chosen to deliberately limit my self, my life, not allowing myself to have fun, take care of myself... even not considering being interested in and attempting new things. It's like a silent scream of agony -- grief + shame = self-punishment... or the hair shirt syndrome... or self-flagellation... trying to expiate my "sins" and find a way to be accepted by someone who doesn't even see me any other than an object; a label - always "MY daughter"... not "Amber", a person in her own right.
I floundered in that cesspool for a long time; my anxiety levels kept going up; I was unconsciously creating ongoing high emotional stress levels in my life -- and there was no escape from it. Until with the help of my T, I was able to get far enough away from the feelings that I couldn't name; wouldn't feel - that kept the perpetual cycle going and actually look at what I was doing.
Meh:
Mornin, still not awake yet, working on the coffee.
Some emotions need to get space away from and others to "get in touch with".
Ah well, It sounds like you had a therapist that actually knew what the heck they were doing.
I guess there is a limit on how far a person can get on their own without a good T.
Pffrhhh...well, yeah that all makes a lot of sense P.
I guess for myself I've proved that I know shame exists but that it's sort of elusive or hard to comprehend somehow. Now I'm not sure if it's one of those things to be looked at closer or farther away.
Anyways I better get going for now. It was a miracle that I woke up this morning. Two alarm clocks both of the apparently broken.
And a nightmare that I was pulling a needle out of my hand--(see the movie Black Swan has given me nightmares)
About 2-3 hours sleep max. But I'm caffeinated.
sKePTiKal:
Black Swan was a tough movie for me. One of those horror movies I couldn't make myself look away from -- and then I reacted with some serious, slow, cold anger.
Your point about looking at an emotion up close & personal, or far away is a great one. I guess there's a time and place to do both of those - as needed. (It might not even be necessary for some people & some things.) Yes, I can't believe how completely lucky I was in finding, connecting with my T. I was actually pointed toward another one, first, but the description of her as more "structured" (whatever was meant by that) clicked with me. What I found out much later, was that she was extremely patient and gentle and warm... and very, very strong; a true amazon. I'm still rather in awe of her tai chi sword form. She even "let me go" on T breaks a couple of times... warming up to the "real" work I needed to do. I needed to learn, experientially, how to process my own feelings and integrate that with my stronger intellectual, left-brain self.
For me, that was simply FEEL and wallow in those feelings until I was done; bored; tired of it all. I'd never really been allowed that -- not even as a small kid. It was always: "You shouldn't feel that way; feel like this instead."
My therapy was, objectively, a very simple process. She basically shot holes in all my assumptions about myself, starting with the self-image that I was simultaneously too intensely emotional and yet so intellectually Mr. Spock-like that I could shift into some absolute objectivity that would reveal the hidden "truth" of situations. Both of those were wrong. It was a type of self-soothing delusion that served as a mechanism for me to not ever really "feel" my feelings... rather analyze them, talk about them... from a distance -- but because those feelings were all-too-personal (and I judged them as being "wrong" feelings as if feelings could be right or wrong)... I wasn't able to get far enough away from them, to see how they were an essential part of my self-harm cycle. I needed someone else to mark, mirror, reflect back to me what I was doing... without imposing their judgements or personal values or "shoulds" on me. Even monks - professional meditators - debrief with their teachers about things like this... self-doubt can be a real serious paralyzing handicap and most of the time is totally unfair. (It's one of those hangover-effects from certain kinds of parents...)
It was kinda like emotional push-hands. When you're working with that partner, and all of a sudden you instinctively (almost physically) just "know" that you could shift 1/4 inch in that direction... and gain the advantage... or improve your own defense. Enough practice like that begins to germinate as inner confidence and emotional "strength" -- i.e., control over oneself. That's the ONE thing Nparents don't ever acknowledge that we have... because in their deluded world view only THEY can control. Bullshit.
So, in some ways, my T was the perfect the "substitute" mother. Her "discipline" of me made sense. Yet she never tried to control me. It was more a negotiated agreement. And on reflection, I can see how my Nmom was simply incapable and totally without insight/skills to deal with someone like me. I have a really strong-personality daughter, too. A mega-challenge kid... and we've learned from each other, a lot of things. My mom in some ways is like a body without anyone inhabiting it... and she's got this insatiable need to have other people fill her up... so she can pretend to be real. That's what she calls loving, caring about other people. I really think she fits Borderline Personality profile, pretty good.
I still take some of her phone calls. I find myself feeling like I'm dealing with a "problem child" who refuses to take the advice she's asked for and is therefore really scared... and I care a lot less than I would admit in mixed company. So many other people return the favor of caring... so I spend that "currency" on them instead.
Meh:
Okay, I know this is a weird fantasy thing. I don't even really want children but I think about how other people have family and I am a "child-free" as in free-to-be-child-free....or whatever person.
I think about what it would be like if I were to have my own family and how I would feel shame in context to if I had to tell my relatives that I was going to have my own children. The thought of telling my mother that repulses me--or any of my relatives.
Both shame and repulsion. I know that I'm not really in a position to have a family nor do I really want to do it. I just find it odd that the thought itself the idea--of thinking it through the---"what would it be like realm"--trails off to this place where I tell my relatives and it's horrible. Or I move to another continent or at least the opposite end of the country and never again speak to my FOO and they know nothing about my personal life. That I keep my life a secret.
That is one scenario where I can find a feeling and concept of shame. It is very odd, many many people could not ever understand this ever.
Can I really blame everything on my FOO?
Am I blaming too much on them? I mean I ask myself this.
At the same time why would I have such odd-ball unusual feelings. Am I crazy or is it the sickness of my family. A feeling is just a feeling it doesn't make me crazy I know that.
Sometimes "normal" people scare me. :)
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