August 18, 2011
Self-Compassion 2
I always held myself to a higher standard than the people around me. I thought I wasn’t supposed to make mistakes. I had to foresee every possible problem and plan accordingly. I wasn’t striving for excellence, I was trying to achieve perfection. Of course, I was never able to do anything perfectly. There was always something that I could have been done better. I was my worst enemy.
I grew up feeling that the people around me had the expectation I was supposed to figure things out on my own. Asking for help meant that I was weak. It also meant that I was indebted for life to whoever helped me. Keeping score was necessary to win arguments and to manipulate people. I guess that’s why when somebody did something nice for me, I was always thinking: “What’s the catch?”
I was raised to be a caregiver. I had to “sense” the mood around me and perform accordingly. I learned to become invisible when needed. I learned that the less you knew about me, the less ammunition you had to use against me. I built a very thick wall around me that protected me from pain. While this barrier blocked the pain, it also blocked positive feelings. Brene Brown explains it as: “You cannot selectively numb. So when we numb those [negative feelings], we numb joy, we numb gratitude, we numb happiness.”
The only feelings I remember having were anger and guilt. Anger gave me a great sense of power. It gave me the energy that I thought I needed to complete or improve whatever somebody else failed to do “the right way.” Guilt was a feeling I tried to avoid by rationalizing my behavior. This meant that it was never my fault, that if I had hurt your feelings, you obviously had it coming! If you had only done your job, kept your promise, or not changed your mind, I wouldn’t have had to shame you into repentance.
Years of therapy, and developing a drug addiction as the culmination of my inability to make things work, finally cracked the fortress. I started to see that I was only responsible for my behavior and not my disease. I began to understand that I could not love anybody else unconditionally until I truly loved myself.
Along the way I was told that whenever I make a mistake, I should treat myself with love, kindness, and understanding; I should pretend I’m talking to my five-year-old nephew and to extend that tenderness to myself.
It’s a process, some days are better than others. Whenever that harsh critic comes back in my head I drown his voice by repeating Louise Hay‘s affirmation: “I love and approve of myself just as I am” as many times as necessary. It works for me. Who knows? It might work for you too.
Aug 21, 2011 @ 14:50:41
Wow, some real similarities in our childhoods. I grew up learning how to recognize very subtle signals of anger. I thought I was very good at recognizing non-verbal signals, and it was not until many years into recovery and some failed relationships that I realized I did not know how to recognize non-verbal signals of love or how to respond to them. I had met some ladies who cared for me and I did not even know it. I still have a critical parent voice, and I have learned to use the phrase gratitude is the attitude when it comes online. When I do that, since neurons are switches, on or off, critical or grateful, I can switch the chemistry inside my body quickly. Heartmath another good tool for that. I like to schedule mistakes too. First thing, get one out of the way, and giggle. Mike
Aug 21, 2011 @ 16:30:49
I can relate and totally agree with this article. I grew up in a dysfunctional home to say the least. I was always afraid of the scrutiny of my mother and my father. Nothing was ever done to perfection so I adapted this mentality myself. I feel I have to be punished for things I’ve done and this carried into my addiction well multiple addictions actually. I was a cutter to begin with. I would punish myself for my lack of perfection, I would inflict physical pain to punish myself for my alleged wrong doing. But then I discovered Alcohol, drugs and an eating disorder. If I feel I have done something wrong or immoral I would purposely starve myself, or burn myself or just get drunk to avoid both.
I’m in recovery now I’m no longer drinking and drugging but I still struggle with the punishment issues. I still catch myself maybe turning the water too hot so that it hurts or “accidentally” cutting myself, convincing myself I am not hungry just to feel the pain in the pit of my stomach. I’m a self-destructive person because I have always felt inadequate and I have bought into the idea that I always will be.
Things are better today, I’m going to meetings and working a program, but there is still that devil in the back of my mind, that sense of failure.