Emotional Neglect?

[angel2write]

I will fight the effects of this but I will never underestimate what has been done to me and so many others and it is not due to modern life!

Not for you, Lizio, but maybe it is for Anna. Different parents, different situations, different methods, different trauma... though I'll have to admit I kind of had the same response. "Modern life??? Hell NO!" But what my parents did was a good deal more insane that just be too busy and grumpy from their jobs to pay proper attention to me. My mom was an at-home parent!!!

 

[Kendra]

Did you suffer from lack of love, care, or concern from your parents?
Were you left alone or ignored a lot?
Did they show lack of concern, disgust or disdain for your emotions or needs?
Were you denied help or sympathy when you were hurt or in pain?
Were you ignored, treated like you were invisible, or given the silent treatment for long periods of time?
Did you act out or hurt yourself to get attention?
Did you ever feel like you were starving for affection?

When I was about 7 I remember really wanting affection from my mom, but she wouldn't give it to me. I would beg her to hold me in her lap and to hug me but she didn't want to. She did once though (I think it was some time after an aunt held me on her lap after I asked her if I could sit on her lap. I told the aunt that she was very kind and that she was my mom. The real mom was sitting next to my aunt the entire time and so she heard it. And before I got into my aunt's lap I was asking the mom if I could sit on her lap). I do remember she took me in her lap and hugged after I asked her to. I got really happen. But after like 10 seconds she's like, "Is that enough? Can I go now?" I got sad but I don't remember ever asking or wanting any more affection from her. I simply stopped caring about them.

Once when my brother got sick and the mom start giving him a lot of attention, I faked being sick too just to get more attention from her. Then when I got older and was actually sick I wouldn't tell her because it just made me mad that the only time I was going to get affection/kindness from her was when I was sick.

There was also some emotional abuse and I felt rejected by the parents as a child/teen. I stopped caring about my parents when I was young and to this day I don't care about them.

I wouldn't talk about my problems (like being hurt at school) to the parents. I don't know why but I felt like they wouldn't care or would blame it on me.

 

[pontifixmax]

Anna
I don't want to offend. But I think you are so not getting the point. Modern life was NOT the reason why my mother abused me.

To put it down to that is just so not understanding what has happened to us. If I could forgive and forget it would be so easy. I have been brain damaged I will never be what I could have been. My sister ended up dead because of it. It is not sad it is tragic. Lives have been destroyed and we are left trying to pick up the pieces.

I'm glad you are able to forgive and forget. I am left with the memory of my sister who is dead and the knowledge that I have to fight the effects on me for the rest of my life.

I will fight the effects of this but I will never underestimate what has been done to me and so many others and it is not due to modern life!

I think we need to be careful not to confuse the individual with the systemic here, or to put one higher or lower than the other since we are talking about two related yet seperate matters. I hear you that to say that claiming modern life is responsible for how your parent's acted toward you as a child sounds like its making excuses for them, which it would be. We are all subject to many negative infuences in this world through culture, the media etc but it is not license to abrogate our personal responsibility or to the ethical and moral standards we are expected to adhere to as individuals. That said, there is a larger systemic problem in the western world concerning modern life and how it impacts upon the family. Parents don't have the same time to give to their children that they might have in the past due to an increasingly competitive economic environment, nor are they able to keep up with all of the negative influences that bombard children through the non-stop, 24 hour culture we live in to protect them from said influences, or at least provide a filter for them to properly interpret them. I really do fear for this generation of children since from what I see they are rapidly losing the protective cocoon of childhood where one is insulated from the problems of the greater world until they are developed enough to be able to comprehend them emotionally and intellectually. Anyways I digress. All of what I just said is not an excuse for parent's to fall down in their responsibilities. Far from it. If anything it makes their responsibilities greater, and if one decides to have kids they must remember its what they signed up for. JS

 

[Icon Nikon]

Hi all,

I'm not really in a good place to think or speak from, for oh so many reasons - like completely coming unglued in the hospital last night during a severe lightning storm (and storm within), but I wanted to at least say how grateful I am for this thread. And I admit that I haven't been able to focus my eyes to read each post, but strongly want to and will.

For many years, I kept going from one therapist to another because they only focused on all the "abusive things (physical, psychological, and sexual) done to me" or all the "gruesome and tortorous cruelness I had endured" or all the "complicated physical and medical concerns that I was born with, plagued with, or battered with", which seemed to distress them more than they distressed me. I could indeed rattle these off fairly easily and openly, but "the emptiness and yearning and ache" for that which I needed but never received, that is at the core of it all, had absolutely no words. And yet I knew that it was being missed or overlooked or unaddressed - and I felt adrift at sea with no way to signal for help.

They just couldn't see what I already sensed yet was unable to communicate to them in their language of spoken words. So even though in many strange ways I was "excited, or as excited as I know how to be" to go (and be "seen" by another), I also dreaded each day that I had to force myself to get up and fight the sheer panic and terror experienced just to drag myself to their office. But like many, I suppose, I wrote all of it off to the perceivably more destructive and "exposed to" side of C-PTSD, rather than the equally, if not even more so, destructive and "malnourished" side of C-PTSD.

However, when I finally calmed down and settled in for my mostly two hour sessions back then, I often, and confusingly so based on my assumptions, found myself left with only silent tears, a body that would shake/twitch violently, and a mind that would suddenly turn off (with not one single identifiable thought). But whenever I felt that one of them had reached inside and somehow seemed to be holding my heart in their hands and forcing it to beat. I had the feeling/image of just being a hurting syrupy blob on the floor in much need of somehow being gently scooped up and given what was so very much missing within me - that "something" that was keeping me from being able to take on some type of shape, some type of movable form, some type of living breathing being.

Obviously I was in great "physical and emotional need" to "fill in or plug up" the oh so many "gaps" inside - gaps that no rational reasoning or corrective social cognitions could do. And I always felt so very stunted during those moments, yet seemed to already know that only the gift of nonverbal emotions or connections, not exactly sure, could touch or reach or possibly address those gaps, those needs of mine that cared very little about anything of any "higher order" up the food chain of human needs.

Sorry for the vagueness of the above description but I believe that the vagueness is appropriate here. For inherent in this vagueness is the very subtle recognition and awareness of the "absence", the "denial", the "withholding" of what I had never been given or felt, and yet so desperately needed. So in essence, and in their offices and their presence, that indescribable state I felt was simply and purely the devasting effects of the "physical and emotional neglect" consuming every inch of me and making me feel un-alive, as well as, the "emotional reaching in of other" that was making me feel somewhat alive.

I apologize for rambling on in search of the clarity to express all of this in here. I hope you all can be patient with me.

Anyhow, while I was with my long-term therapist before she died in a car crash, I felt she just got it, the unattended link, the missing piece. And that as Shel Silverstein's book would say, "the missing piece had finally met the big O" and I was ready to take "shape" so I could begin "moving" about and along my chosen path.

****
YouTube Link to Silverstein's Book "The Missing Piece Meets the Big O":

[DLMURL]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=evMOK8fBVM0&feature=youtube_gdata_player[/DLMURL]

(please do watch even though it may sound silly now, ~5 mins)

***

And through all the chaos and turmoil and crises of my stuttering life and time with her, she accepted and worked hard with me on this seemingly "hopeless and endless", "silent and freakishly violent" quest to satisfy grossly unmet needs, needs that I still struggle dearly to define. And in such light, I in turn felt at home, or should I say safe enough at times to entrust my heart to her, for I knew she would keep it beating for as long as I could not.

I truly miss her and what she enabled me to do for myself with her creative guidance and support.

And so now after my world again came screeching to a stop, I thought I had finally found another therapist, another Big O, who "just got it" and would continue to help this "missing and unmovable piece" on its journey to becoming a "more movable shape". But instead, she found me, "the missing piece" too "silently freakish" and instead steamrolled the "any moveable shape" right out of me.

Now I would say that I am back to being the "missing piece, sadly sitting all alone and unable to move", but that is not exactly true for I have all of you! And perhaps I can again find the courage to start anew... sometime soon!

Now with all it took for me to do this, I feel embarrassed and kind of exposed for having written it this way. But I suppose as wrote in my introduction thread, I will "Risk Reaching Out" and hope it is well received or better still, helps someone else.

Thanks again for this wonderful thread that as I read will no doubt inspire and enlighten me in fresh and unexpected ways.

Warmly embracing your emotional needs. May you all find what has gone unmet for far too long!!!

Alex

 

[Martin Taylor]

This string made me cry. I am so there. Thanks to all of you for saying what I have have been at best poorly able to articulate. For me the realization was important, my T got me there. The EMDR helps, but sometimes I feel alone (as in Pink Floyd's "Comfortably Numb") and simply want to be held. I am getting better, though, I can tell. Twice tonight that I don't have the words.

 

[mamachick]

I am so sorry for the loss of your therapist who was there for you and certainly many others.I am sure the trajedy of her death left you and many other patients very lost temporarily. Im sure she would want you to know that it is your strength that has enabled you to move ahead.

 

[Martin Taylor]

To answer your questions, Angel2write, (now that I got it back together)

Yes, yes and yes. I grew up in an alcoholic household where my father sucked up all of the attention and my mother was somewhat "cold" in terms of physical attention. I often wondered why she didn't hug me more. We were not allowed to ask about my father's problems, we were only to say that he was "sick". We were fed and sheltered and emotionally on our own. Verbal emotional abuse was routine in our house and we did not show much love. We survived. I tried to take care of the younger ones, but I couldn't - I wasn't taken care of myself. My mother was distant. Add the complications of my parents being hearing impaired and our not using sign language ( my Dad never learned it, he was a lip reader and very good at it). Sometimes he would come home and look for something little brother did wrong and then smack him for it. He didn't hit me, though, because I was able to stare him down. I actually had to hit him once or twice to protect my mother (who wasn't smart enough to defuse a bad situation). A lot of negative emotion. A good day was one that was not bad. The "thousand cuts" metaphor is outstanding.

It has impacted my life. In my career I had three shots at the "big time" and lost them all because I so craved people's affections that I could not effectively discipline my staff. even my "friends" took advantage of me. I have trouble relating and trouble showing love. When I do I come on too strong. Honesty freaks me out. Speaking my mind freaks me out. I confront poorly, either too much or not enough response. Bullies spot me a mile away and are sometimes shocked at my over the top response or at how easily I cave in. I can be a real ass at times, even though I know better. Previous therapy missed it all. My current T gets it. My EMDR sessions hurt. She tells me she can see the pain in my eyes and has us take a break. I once saw tears in her eyes as I described this stuff. Bless her, she has helped me begin to heal. Outside of this venue no one else really understands. Lucky them.

But as I said in my previous post, I am getting better. Thank you very much for asking.

 

[mamachick]

Martin thanks for sharing your history. I know what its like growing up in an alc. family and the many effects you describe. Im glad your T is helping.

 

[Anna]

Lizio. Modern life was the reason why my mum was like that, She could not cope. She had 2 nervous breakdowns and also collaped and was hospitalised with an infection in her brain.

My first memory was the hunger. I remember as a small child that burning pain in my stomach. Searching though cupboards for food... I remember all I found was cake decorations, and eating them, I remember showing my brother the same. I loved being at my grandmas as she always made us breakfast.

Then the clothes that were too small. One day she made me wear jeans that were too small. I had the worst stomach ache you can imagine. Then there was the shoes, the pain of shoes that are too small... My feet are damaged because of this. I have a hump in the middle where the bones are deformed, it is a bit like claw foot. All the time this was my fault for growing so fast. I was shouted at every day. Everything I did was wrong. I grew too fast. I ate too much, I was stupid, I always got in the way... the list is endless.

The worst was when I had headlice. My mother did not believe it. My head itched and it was so bad I would scratch at night until there was blood under my fingernails. One day I got my dad to check my hair. He told her I was infested. I had had it for months, but she had not wanted to believe it, telling me it was all in my head and to stop scratching.....

I did not know how to wash properly. I was shown by a babysitter to wash my hands after using the toilet, personal hygiene I learnt from friends. I stank, they used to make fun of me when I was a teenager.....

But I never spoke of this to anyone. In fact I am so glad to have found this forum. This is the first time I have actually even spoke of it.

Then when I was a teenager I was brutally assaulted by a man, so bad I was hospitalised. When I told my mother of this instead of encouraging me to report it she blamed me. Told me I was the stupid one. She also began to drink a bottle of vodka every day. This lasted 2 years and she managed to drag herself out of it. She once collected me from school drunk. It was terrible.

I almost joined the army to escape from her. I dreamed of getting away.

Now I am older, and I know what she went through. That she really does love me and never meant to hurt me. She just could not cope. I have forgiven her. She has help and no longer drinks. She is now a loving mother. I wish she could have been like this when I was younger, but she was ill. She had a nervous breakdown. I understand that now. It still does not make what she did right. Noone should treat a child like that, but I have forgiven her.

 

[Icon Nikon]

Hi Spero3,

Just a brief comment - My parents had three children before me, 2 boys & 1 girl, but the girl died before turning one. Five years after she died - I was literally born to replace my dead sister - and no one can ever be good enough to live up to the "perfect imagined yet dead child. But on a lighter note, I too am gay, so when my bio mother started ranting about me not being feminine enough or about me not having been the girl she "expected/hoped for", I just laugh now and say don't blame me, blame your husband, because I'm the product of his DNA. :)

I saw much of myself in what you wrote. I too have a long history of familial abuse (physical, emotional, sexual) and neglect (physical, emotional, and basic survival). Aside from major medical injuries being untreated, I was locked in the basement or outside with our dog and only his food, water, and doghouse available to me. And when I wasn't being abused, I was being dismantled verbally, dismissed, or ignored. In short, I was an object to them all - only of value when being used and before being discarded - kind of like toilet paper.

And as my earlier post reflects, I too agree that the neglect for me hurts far more than any of the abuse. But I feel i must clarify my own words, because in making that statement it omits the fact that all abuse is "wrapped" within a layer of neglect. For example, while being repeatedly molested by my mother (the obvious abuse layer), the so-called attention, affection, and physical touch I received clearly disregarded my personal boundaries and denied me the experience of a Mother's genuine loving care for her child - boundaries and care that, as stated by others, all children need to emotionally thrive (the often overlooked neglect layer).

So when we especially look at child abuse where there is a clear dependence and need to be protected, we must think of it as inextricably intertwined with neglect. By that I mean, that the simple definition of child abuse (though there is nothing simple about it) is any action that blatantly dismisses the right of the child to be free from physical, emotional, and sexual harm or the risk of such harm. So in that light, neglect is a form of child abuse that not only produces harm but can be traumatic and in some instances result in PTSD.

My best to all who have been harmed so deeply.

Alex

 

[Anna]

It would be interesting to see if there is a high risk of self harming and self destructive behaviour in people who have been emotionally abused. Abuse in general can create people who become very self destructive. It certainly was in my case. I am glad I managed to get myself out of it.

 

[Srain]

Icon Nikon, I'm very sorry for your loss and would just like to say that although you may feel back to square one you have actually gained so much. I doubt for a moment that your dear therapist would pass with wandering the halls of your heart and leaving notes of knowledge in my mind of the times you shared. ((((((hugs)))))) Thank you for sharing what you shared.

Emotional abuse is like a death by a thousand cuts, by the time the real blood loss starts to have an effect on us we have become numb to the pain and the slices and slashes don't really even register anymore. The first cut hurts, the most damaging cuts come later and go unnoticed.

I didn't respond to this at first because it hit me so deeply. I have actually never heard it put so eloquently or heart crushingly well put. I hope you don't mind, but I've shared it with a friend of mine and plan to share it with my tdoc.

I can take a lot of pain, hell I take it on high levels each and every day but what I can't and have never been able to take - where my cup will flood...if anything even resembling emotional abuse. I lock up, I freeze, I panic, I explode, I implode, I disintegrate.

I can take most anything but that. Years of wear and tear, I have been learning to set my boundaries where I see the presence of people that tend to operate in that capacity. It's a hard lesson to learn with people I have wanted to love me, who have tried or pretended to love me. It's been a matter of stopping the fragmentation of my life history and putting all the pieces back together and seeing the patterns for what they are. Now is about the time I cut all my hair off according to the pattern. Am I going to do it????

Side note just for myself: Modern times...Olden times...I'd be dead during those times, my parents would not have had time for me then because they would have been working trying to get food on the table and dying at a younger age. My mother and her mother were stay at home parents, she had time for me, it was not good time. It's quality time that is always the key, the person the ages not times not what's happening around, it's the person, either they are abusive or they are not....my father was, my mother was, I was a child that was more apt to take on the characteristics of PTSD due to the sexual, emotion, and physical abuse and the other issues going on. Just my opinion and I hope that I didn't offend anyone.

I believe that for me, emotional abuse is directly linked to my self harm.

peace,
Rain