Fears

It is difficult to write today. It seems like it should be easy. You set a timer for one hour. And off you go.

But it’s not like that.  I am scared.  I think this is not the correct strategy for me.  I need another method, a gentler, kinder method.  I will search for it.  Because tomorrow will come too, and tomorrow I will try to write again.  I’m still going to be scared and using force will again not work well.

Throwing your fears in a box is not always the best strategy.

I know why I’m scared.  It’s not just the fear of a blank sheet that everyone has.  It is because of my mother and our attachment in my childhood.  The residue is very deep and very enduring.

There are a lot of reasons it’s so durable, but it doesn’t really matter. Relationships in childhood are always important. In childhood, we learn to survive. In addition, the lessons are more lasting if they are delivered in a very vivid and emotional way.

The lessons of my childhood were very vivid and very emotional.  They are traumatic and because of that they are very durable.  If I forget them, I could die.  The consequences seem very serious.

It is an experience with relationships that has been passed down through the generations in my family which causes a problem with exposing the self.  Some expose too much of the self.  Some expose too little.  These difficulties create problems with relationships.  They overwhelm or they leave nothing to attach to.  We are too close or too far.  It is never correct, never comfortable.

Because my mom has difficulty dealing with her emotions, she was overwhelmed by her empathy for me.  My emotions and distress were too intense for her.

There were other parts of the problem, but the biggest part was this.

The dynamic created a contradiction for me. I needed something. I wanted to introduce it to my mother, but the need appeared to hurt my mother. The dynamic created a situation in which I was an opponent of my mother. She was fighting against me.

In my imagination there were two images of myself: I was small, helpless, and in need of help.  And also I was powerful and malignant and hurting my mother.

It was very confusing to me and furthermore it created a situation in which I learned to avoid painful confusion by hiding my needs until they erupted.