I don't think I am going to be understood about this but I am need to write about it here anyway. I have a profound need to share it and feel a degree of safety and protection here.
I am connecting with some experiences from my earliest memories - about age 2. But this synthesis of these memories continued through out my life. There are two prongs of this pain: 1) is the pain/hurt/wound from my father's utter lack of love and 2) my inability to relate that to anyone else, to convey to another human being how wrong it was, how much it hurt, and why it still matters. The 2nd issue is just as pain inducing as the first at this time. IOW, I really must deal with this 2nd issue and cut through that pain in order to get to the 1st.
I AM, not I was but I AM that 2 year old and that 4 year old who longed, yearned to be held, loved, adored by my father, who would have done anything, include supress, repress the very being who I was, in order to be close to, to be in with that larger than life human being. I AM that 2 year old, that 4 year old who is longing to conform to , match up to, distort my soul in order to fit some twisted concept that he demanded - an impossible, inhuman form that kept shifting, changing, that was designed specifically to exclude me. The "____" that I tried to fit in order to be accepted was just like guessing the number of jelly beans in the jar so I could vote - the number always shifted specifically to make sure that NOONE subject to the test COULD vote. THAT is what my father did to me. Set me up, Sabotaged me - to shut me out - all the while pretending - (only) on the surface - that I had a chance of being loved - if ONLY I would just ... ... ... ... ...
Joke is on me - I am still trying to guess what those dots mean - nevermind that the train has left the track - HELLO!!! YooHOo - GS - you missed the whole thing - you got fooled - you're a patsy - jokes on you - look over there - see all those folks - they are having a good laugh at your expense. I feel the horror and shame and rush of adrenaline. I go back to the dots - what else can I do - I am standing naked before the world with no where to hide and my very own family, my very own mother, my very own father is there leading the hoots and howls, doubled over laughing. Jokes on me - I loved them and I was born and I needed love. Jokes on me.
Pull up your boot straps you say. I can't. I don't have any boots.