Okay so... found some stuff out. I was putzing around my apt last night thinking about things, and how I'm trying out this whole "Let go and let God thing. And I'm not exactly sure how, but it washes over me that even back then when I was a little kid, I was looking to God to fill me and make me feel good about myself. I was basing my self-esteem on my perception of Gods' view of me. Which is a terrible idea in the first place, since the first thing the Southern-fried Baptists teach you is that God hates you for the sin of being born. A really terrible role model for a kid.
Anyways, so I went on and made the further connection that I was debasing myself and whipping myself to show my contrition for all my sins, (keep in mind I was 11-12 at this time) and while I recognize that this is exactly what the church wants you to do (ie hate yourself because God hates you, and place all your faith and energy into pleasing him; truly it is a horrid trap for kids) I was still failing to see anything of worth in myself. One way or another, even at that young age I was living for another rather than myself. I was loving God because I was counting on him to rescue me. I was in fact trying to manipulate God with my hysterics. I was co-dependent even at that time, but with a deity.
So when God didn't show up in a hail of angels to rescue me, I felt an extreme betrayal. Like I had been used and exploited, which is exactly what a codependent thinks when the object of their idolization ends up being less than perfection. I can totally forgive myself because, lets face it... The churches do indoctrinate kids, I was manipulated by them during a time when it was in my nature to give perfect trust to authority figures. *shrug* What can I say, I was a child... But then there's more.
So I figured, if even at this young age, I was already codependent.. What on earth made me that way? What happened before I was 8 in my life that would make me look outside myself for approval from others? My brother hadn't started beating me at that age, and the kids at school hadn't started being bastards by then. That all came later... I remembered something my Mom told me that I used to do when I was little. I would call myself a 'no count, bad boy' when I was little. I had no memory of this, so I wondered just how young I was when I said those things. I remembered how many people on this board talk about traumas that they have no memory of. So I called Mom.
She got kinda choked up on the phone, and said that she was hoping that I would never ask about this. I told her it was really important to me. So she tells me that I was about 2 or 3 years old when I would say that. I asked what was happening, why I would say that. Then she told me that my father would denigrate me and yell and tell me that I was a rotten kid even at age 3. She said that when I would apologize for something he would respond "Well you really -are- sorry." ("Sorry" being a pejorative in this context.) Then she started talking about how he would act in general (which was utterly horrible and abusive towards my Mom), and it sounds like he was clinically depressed and already a secret alcoholic and drug-user.
And it all clicks. The reasons he would act like that, the way that I 'learned' that I was worthless at such a young age. Everything. I don't hate my Dad. He and I have become good friends (through alcohol, seems like he was always looking for a drinking buddy within my family; first my Mom, and then later with me.) But still I love him. I just have to keep my distance because he's still a very unhealthy guy, and would very much like for me to start drinking again.
So I'm going to tell my T about all this on thursday. I wonder where we'll go from there.
Anyways, so I went on and made the further connection that I was debasing myself and whipping myself to show my contrition for all my sins, (keep in mind I was 11-12 at this time) and while I recognize that this is exactly what the church wants you to do (ie hate yourself because God hates you, and place all your faith and energy into pleasing him; truly it is a horrid trap for kids) I was still failing to see anything of worth in myself. One way or another, even at that young age I was living for another rather than myself. I was loving God because I was counting on him to rescue me. I was in fact trying to manipulate God with my hysterics. I was co-dependent even at that time, but with a deity.
So when God didn't show up in a hail of angels to rescue me, I felt an extreme betrayal. Like I had been used and exploited, which is exactly what a codependent thinks when the object of their idolization ends up being less than perfection. I can totally forgive myself because, lets face it... The churches do indoctrinate kids, I was manipulated by them during a time when it was in my nature to give perfect trust to authority figures. *shrug* What can I say, I was a child... But then there's more.
So I figured, if even at this young age, I was already codependent.. What on earth made me that way? What happened before I was 8 in my life that would make me look outside myself for approval from others? My brother hadn't started beating me at that age, and the kids at school hadn't started being bastards by then. That all came later... I remembered something my Mom told me that I used to do when I was little. I would call myself a 'no count, bad boy' when I was little. I had no memory of this, so I wondered just how young I was when I said those things. I remembered how many people on this board talk about traumas that they have no memory of. So I called Mom.
She got kinda choked up on the phone, and said that she was hoping that I would never ask about this. I told her it was really important to me. So she tells me that I was about 2 or 3 years old when I would say that. I asked what was happening, why I would say that. Then she told me that my father would denigrate me and yell and tell me that I was a rotten kid even at age 3. She said that when I would apologize for something he would respond "Well you really -are- sorry." ("Sorry" being a pejorative in this context.) Then she started talking about how he would act in general (which was utterly horrible and abusive towards my Mom), and it sounds like he was clinically depressed and already a secret alcoholic and drug-user.
And it all clicks. The reasons he would act like that, the way that I 'learned' that I was worthless at such a young age. Everything. I don't hate my Dad. He and I have become good friends (through alcohol, seems like he was always looking for a drinking buddy within my family; first my Mom, and then later with me.) But still I love him. I just have to keep my distance because he's still a very unhealthy guy, and would very much like for me to start drinking again.
So I'm going to tell my T about all this on thursday. I wonder where we'll go from there.