I have spent a lot of time, money, and energy to heal. I now understand the root of my difficulties, but part of that is a divided mind that doesn't trust my own thoughts. Which means I have to constantly go back and reaffirm the evidence.
Another aspect is that I easily create personas and perspectives to power them. And they are powerful. So much so that many people I know think they ARE me. Which they are in a way. But it's precisely that integration I struggle with.
Today I've been hammered with thoughts and recollections of how much of my life I spent trying to 'die to self'. From severe asceticism to swallowing pride, emotions, and a whole lot of abuse, I tried my best to turn the other cheek and beat my 'sin nature' into submission.
I still value these things. I love Jesus' idea of sacrificial love. But I'm told it's ok to set boundaries and say what I feel. To stand up for myself. How does that work together? I really don't get it.
"Love your neighbor as yourself." Ok, so if I don't love myself, I can't love them. But what about love them better than yourself? It doesn't say that. Fairness, generosity, ok, I get that. But what about forgiving when you can't.
I so want to forgive, but I can't trust or restore. I have a longing to take a higher road, to be so secure in myself that I can show love to those who abused me without being damaged by it. But I can't.
Maybe I never will be able to. Maybe it isn't my job to do that in this case. If they change their ways or even if they don't, maybe others can fill that and I can just walk on.
But aren't kids supposed to take care of their parents? I tried. Did I try hard enough? People say more than enough, but that conditioning still nags me that of course I didn't. Because I'm a stiff-necked reprobate.
I'm embarassed to admit that I wasn't strong enough to resist. I couldn't hold up under the constant onslaught of teaching, remonstration, 'evidence' that I was the problem. Even well into middle age. But there's a word for that...gaslighting.
Not to mention, I was not a soldier in interrogation. I was a freaking little kid! An innocent, weak, trusting little kid who had no choice but to listen to what he was taught. It was my entire world. It's something you can't understand unless you've been there. There was no other world. All a kid can see is what they are shown so I learned subconsciously to survive by the rules in that world.
But I can't go back. I won't. I just need some resolution to these plaguing thoughts that they need me and I need them to be whole. I wish they were dead so this would be settled beyond my reach.
I debate saying that every time, but it's true. Then it would be over and no one would expect me to have anything to do with them. I couldn't even if I wanted to.
But that is not something I decide. All I can do is stay away...yet even just yesterday someone mentioned a song and I said I hate it, which of course prompted asking why and how I heard it. And when I mentioned my Dad, the person I was talking to said, "sounds like a great man. I'd like to meet him."
And I'm thinking, no, he was abusive and mean and hard, cold, damaged and unwilling to admit it. Pitiful and broken and yet still abusive. Gossiping and self-righteous. And I hate what he did to me. But all that comes out of my mouth is, "he was the farthest thing from what you think."
It's not fair that I have to avoid 'airing my dirty laundry' while any random comment can unlock a truckload of manure in my head that I have to deal with.
