I keep thinking about that case where a woman was born in a cult, and didn't go out until she was in her 30's http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-35443423.
She was isolated from the outside world, but once she got out she was given help to learn how to function it it. I never met anyone outside my immediate family as a child. I wasn't given any help. I know I was only a child, but I didn't understand how the world works. I had to find and think that out for myself. All those lessons kids learn by playing together, I had no idea of them. It was only as I got older and could consciously say to myself, This person does it this way and seems to work for her, that I began to develop some social normality.
In the last paragraph I did it again "I know I was only a child," reflecting the belief I grew up with that children aren't people. That was an overt statement in my life, not a subtle message. I wonder when we become people? I suppose feeling that I am a three year old in an adult world means I am a non-person in the world.
And yet, how can I do anything but condemn myself for being envious of someone who has lived the life that captive woman did? And condemn myself again for being afraid every time I see my mother walk by? Until I learn to disregard that fear and give her the support she is reasonable to expect as an old lady living in isolation, I will never rid myself of the guilt.
She was isolated from the outside world, but once she got out she was given help to learn how to function it it. I never met anyone outside my immediate family as a child. I wasn't given any help. I know I was only a child, but I didn't understand how the world works. I had to find and think that out for myself. All those lessons kids learn by playing together, I had no idea of them. It was only as I got older and could consciously say to myself, This person does it this way and seems to work for her, that I began to develop some social normality.
In the last paragraph I did it again "I know I was only a child," reflecting the belief I grew up with that children aren't people. That was an overt statement in my life, not a subtle message. I wonder when we become people? I suppose feeling that I am a three year old in an adult world means I am a non-person in the world.
And yet, how can I do anything but condemn myself for being envious of someone who has lived the life that captive woman did? And condemn myself again for being afraid every time I see my mother walk by? Until I learn to disregard that fear and give her the support she is reasonable to expect as an old lady living in isolation, I will never rid myself of the guilt.
