Anastasia,
I always assumed there was something wrong with ME. It wasn't until about a year and a half ago that I saw that the problem was in them - not in me. I was not what they made me out to be, and the world was not the nasty place they described.
I am 38... so it took me LOTS longer than you to figure it out.
But I am happy to be where I am and to continue becoming the kind of person I truly want to be.
Love, Beth
Ditto Beth - I am 37 and you said it all.
For so many years I have felt this wrongness about me that I have been trying to fix and fix and fix and excuse and excuse and apologize for and apologize for. Turns out it is only that I have been a complete sucker and defended my dad's wrongness all the way down the line. I bought his way of seeing things
completely. I have practiced huge exceptionalism on his behalf. The rules don't apply to him because he is a genius, because he is brilliant, so talented, a man, a scientist, because his wife went crazy and failed him, because he is a hard luck story, because he is a single father, because he has a serious illness. That's why he ignored me, that's why it doesn't count if he disparages or mistreats me, that's why he expects instant obediance and compliance, that's why he expects to dominate every conversation, that's why he has no interest in me as an individual except that it is irritating and mediocre to him, that's why -- all of that.
It is a
huge revolution to connect the disordered concepts with the owner instead of considering that my wrongness and inadequacy is Reality and separate both the concepts and the owner from myself.
Who am I??? Even when I drew the line with him a few years ago - I still basically accepted his views that I was mistreatable (and it isn't a wrong thing) and inadequate, but that I couldn't live with it - I apologetically drew a line. Anger came much later and I am still coming to grips with the scope of everything.
I still have trouble actually thinking of my dad as crazy as in wrong and out of touch with reality. I more think of him in his little bubble refusing to see, to learn, to grow, to change. He is so willful.