I need something explained to me ….
What is a “breakthrough” in psychology?
A breakthrough is defined as —- a sudden, dramatic, and important discovery or development.
Okay. So if you understand, truly, what is the matter with you and why you have no self worth and why you’d prefer no one ever be near you ever again …. why is a breakthrough a good thing?
Three out of my four parents made it blatantly obvious that their lives would have been better if I didn’t exist. The only one parent who pretended to care was doing it, solely, to win a battle. Other than telling me I was pretty and that he loved me, he was even more absent than the others. In turn, truly, confusing, distorting and negatively correlating the meaning and value of the words love and beauty.
Tell me why a discovery like that is said to be a “breakthrough” …
The word seems so positive, almost as if it’s a turning point. Self awareness isn’t a turning point. Self awareness just makes you more guarded to what you know will break you. You can easily make what breaks you, make you. That is my perpetual party trick. It doesn’t mean that you’re fixed. It doesn’t mean that you’re healed.
When you are a grown ass adult it shouldn’t matter what happened in your past. I’m not going to let my past get in the way of goals. That being said, I refuse to repeat the past because I do have goals and one of those goals is happiness. I don’t know how to make it happen. I don’t know that it ever will happen, that doesn’t make it any less of a goal.
The first person to make me feel loved through actions was not a parent and it certainly was nothing even close to healthy relationship. That is likely why I try my hardest to be the best parent. It’s why I put my kids before everything else. It is the hardest burden to bear, especially with my experience of how fucked up you can make a person.
I was raised by selfish people who shouldn’t have had kids. They had kids because you are “supposed” to have kids. I had kids because I wanted kids. I didn’t just want babies. I didn’t just want kids. I certainly didn’t do it to have a friend. I didn’t feel the need to have a backup, ass-wiper for my old age. I did it because I wanted it and I knew that I would give them all I had and the best I had. My drive in that, likely come from never having that myself.
I was jealous and sad when I saw the way other parents treated their kids. They treated them like they wanted them. Whether it was waking them up and getting them out the door on time for school, feeding them dinner, doing their laundry, taking them driving, taking them shopping, making sure they were safe and knowing exactly where they were all the time … I had none of that shit. I really don’t care why. I’m also not mad at my parents. In fact, I am just as indifferent about them as they have always been of me. I also pretend to love my parents a lot. Those fuckers have no idea that they did a terrible job raising us and I don’t care to let them know, nor is it really my place to determine if that is true. It’s really all relative. I’m sure they did a much better job than their parents. I could have been a far too sensitive kid. I certainly, was raised by way older parents than all of my friends. Time, age and generation play a large roll in the way people parent children. I am wise enough to that now. Back then, I was only a five year old looking at an ageless parent and comparing my life to another five year old and their ageless parent.
I have attachment disorder.
Which is defined as:
Attachment disorder is a broad term intended to describe disorders of mood, behavior, and social relationships arising from a failure to form normal attachments to primary care giving figures in early childhood. … A person’s attachment style is permanently established before the age of three.
I have had therapy my entire life. Attachment disorder is a thing. I have been diagnosed with it time and time and time again. Oh well. It is what it is. But that’s just it. My parents did do it wrong, by definition, by diagnoses, by actual proven facts. I don’t care, but it has still landed me right here … Constantly trying to unbury myself from their failures and try, tirelessly, not to create my own in the process, while feeling completely helpless and lost the entire time.
You see, when you can’t attach to your parents, you find very questionable attachments with other people/things/substances/whatever the fuck. Sometimes you rise above and you rise high above. I have had my fair share of all those experiences. Trying to attach to something or someone, be vulnerable and give it your all, have it be for nothing, being left cycling backwards … It’s easier than going forward, only because it’s so much more fucking familiar, but it gets you no where. In fact, it makes you less apt to ever give a fuck in the future. How much feeling like a worthless, failure can one life take? How much trying and caring and loving and sharing, just to feel alone and raw and hurt can a person endure? How much pathetic self talk and loathing before you never try again? How much strength to start fresh is there in one life?
Over the last decade I have kept my head high. I have felt as though I have been building this glorious castle on the beach that is all that I ever wanted. The tide has come in and out. I rebuild every single time and I never allow the castle to get damaged enough to destroy it’s integrity. No one would ever know that the tide and the rain have washed pieces away time and time again. I feel now, as though, I have this castle …. soon it will be complete. It will be everything that I have ever wanted. No one will know what it took to get it there, nor do I want them to. I can hear a group of shitty ten year old kids down the beach threatening to demolish it, if I let my guard down. Once that castle is gone, no one will know the work that has gone into it. No one will know how hard it was to protect it. No one will know how much I cared. Nothing that I have done that was ever worth a damn in my entire life will have mattered. At that point, everyone that doubted me, everyone who never noticed me and everyone who left me, will be right. I will have finally proven to myself and to all of them that I truly am worthless.
I guess that’s what you get for building a castle on a beach.