| Topic: |
Sociology > Depression |
| User: |
"CyberDroog" |
| Date: |
25 Aug 2005 03:10:56 PM |
| Object: |
Conversations With God |
I was listening to Conversations With God, Book 1 last night. I noticed
the voice of God (well, Ed Asner) talking about a child being scolded in
his moments of greatest exuberance.
I shuddered. I knew precisely what he was speaking of, and I can recall
many instances of my parents screaming at me because they were sick of
hearing me or I was "acting like a little maniac".
It really doesn't seem to occur to many people just how destructive that
is. A child in such a situation doesn't perceive such comments as merely
suggesting that they need to settle down because it's time to do something
else, or because they are disturbing someone else. What they hear is "You
are feeling joyous and that is *bad*!" This is especially amplified by the
stern, unhappy face of an angry parent. "Don't feel the way you are
feeling... feel the way I look!"
A related sin in relation to children is to suggest that any injury they
sustain is their fault, or that they deserve it. I recall one instance in
particular when I ran down the stairs and hit my knee on the banister. I
caught it right on the kneecap and hit it so hard that it knocked the wind
out of me. I couldn't talk, I could barely breathe. I just stood there in
shock with my mouth wide open; my jaw locked.
My mother had just walked in and didn't know I had hit my knee. So she
stood there and screamed "What?" "What is it?!" "What the hell is wrong
with you!", and became hysterical. Her penchant for falling into hysteria
was always my fault. I was about 13 then. My way of dealing with it was,
once I had caught my breath, to scream "***** you, you stupid fat *****!"
Would I have even thought to say such a thing if I hadn't been raised by
her? I knew that this wasn't exactly unavoidable on her part either. If I
got hurt in public, with other adults around, my mother never seemed to
have any trouble maintaining her emotions.
A similar example occurred in the middle of the night. I had gotten up to
go to the bathroom. While walking out I slipped on a puddle of water by
the tub and went down like a sack of potatoes. My feet went straight up
and I landed on my back, right between the shoulder blades. I was laying
on the floor having a hard time getting up when my mother came running in
screaming "What the hell are you doing!" "Do you know what time it is?!"
"Why don't you be more careful?!" She didn't even offer to help me up.
That lead to me saying "Would you be happier if I broke my fucking neck?!"
So here I am, with a baby on the way. I can now feel the little bugger
fluttering around in my wife's belly. Not too long now and she'll come
into the world; a whole other human being with which to interact.
How am I supposed to guard against ever behaving the way my parents did?
I suppose the anger and hysteria of my parents is not too ingrained in me.
I don't have any problem dealing with my wife being injured. (Entering the
kitchen will, more often than not, result in her cutting or burning
herself... but don't tell her I said that <hehe>.) No problem though, I
just deal with it and make sure she feels better as quickly as possible.
As a matter of fact, I have dealt with my mother having asthma attacks, or
being in unbearable pain because her catheter has been blocked for hours
and the home nurse is nowhere to be found, all without ever getting angry
and berating her.
She's my mother. I have to.
I'm her child. How come she didn't have to?
Can a child make me emotional enough to fall back into my parents method of
dealing with things?
--
You don't have to buy from anyone. You don't have to work at any
particular job. You don't have to participate in any given relationship.
You can choose.
- Harry Browne
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| User: "Used2be" |
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| Title: Re: Conversations With God |
25 Aug 2005 06:44:39 PM |
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"CyberDroog" <CyberDroog@ClockworkOrange.com> wrote in message
news:r66sg11mj6l0sifsv2v39oi4s5fn5mcgi0@news.easynews.com...
I was listening to Conversations With God, Book 1 last night. I noticed
the voice of God (well, Ed Asner) talking about a child being scolded in
his moments of greatest exuberance.
somehow the idea of ed asner reading a book about God just seems
sacriligious to me. i can just see God up there shuddering at the idea
Himself. <bg>
I shuddered. I knew precisely what he was speaking of, and I can recall
many instances of my parents screaming at me because they were sick of
hearing me or I was "acting like a little maniac".
<snip>
So here I am, with a baby on the way. I can now feel the little bugger
fluttering around in my wife's belly. Not too long now and she'll come
into the world; a whole other human being with which to interact.
i think you'll be a wonderful father. not perfect, of course, but
wonderful. and you will feel more love than you ever thought possible, btw.
How am I supposed to guard against ever behaving the way my parents did?
you choose not to. it CAN be done, i assure you.
I suppose the anger and hysteria of my parents is not too ingrained in me.
it's probably more ingrained in you to NOT be like your parents.
I don't have any problem dealing with my wife being injured. (Entering the
kitchen will, more often than not, result in her cutting or burning
herself... but don't tell her I said that <hehe>.) No problem though, I
just deal with it and make sure she feels better as quickly as possible.
you mean you don't yell and scream at her that she's an effin stupid moron?
even though that is how your parents talked to you?
As a matter of fact, I have dealt with my mother having asthma attacks, or
being in unbearable pain because her catheter has been blocked for hours
and the home nurse is nowhere to be found, all without ever getting angry
and berating her.
She's my mother. I have to.
no...because you chose to...and because you are a decent person with a good
heart.
I'm her child. How come she didn't have to?
she did...she just chose not to. i don't know the reasons why, but she made
some pretty dang ***** poor choices in rearing her son.
Can a child make me emotional enough to fall back into my parents method
of
dealing with things?
occasionally? maybe. maybe not. but you are a completely different person
from your mother. and there's no reason to assume you'll turn out to be the
same kind of parent that she was. personally, i believe that your little
girl is going to be very lucky to have such a "smart" and sensitive dad.
don't short yourself, droog. no, you won't be perfect, but you'll be
fine....just fine.
*hugs*
~u2b
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| User: "" |
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| Title: Re: Conversations With God |
26 Aug 2005 06:32:15 PM |
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On Thu, 25 Aug 2005 23:44:39 GMT, "Used2be" <used2be@nowhere.com>
wrote:
<(((*> don't short yourself, droog. no, you won't be perfect, but you'll be
<(((*> fine....just fine.
Everything that U2B said, and then some.
I know (because I did it) that it is possible to avoid making the
mistakes that one's parents made.
The first thing is the awareness that they made mistakes.
The second is the knowledge of what those mistakes were.
And the third is, if you catch yourself starting to make one of
those mistakes, to have the motivation to stop yourself.
That's all it takes. And I'm sure you have the awareness, the
knowledge and above all, the motivation.
Tara J. Ballance
Montreal, Canada
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| User: "CyberDroog" |
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| Title: Re: Conversations With God |
27 Aug 2005 09:54:52 AM |
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On Fri, 26 Aug 2005 19:32:15 -0400, waitingforgodot@samuel.beckett wrote:
And the third is, if you catch yourself starting to make one of
those mistakes, to have the motivation to stop yourself.
That's all it takes. And I'm sure you have the awareness, the
knowledge and above all, the motivation.
I'm hoping I do. Thanks.
--
I refuse to answer that question on the grounds that I don't know the
answer.
- Douglas Adams
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| User: "CyberDroog" |
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| Title: Re: Conversations With God |
26 Aug 2005 08:45:30 AM |
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On Thu, 25 Aug 2005 23:44:39 GMT, "Used2be" <used2be@nowhere.com> wrote:
"CyberDroog" <CyberDroog@ClockworkOrange.com> wrote in message
news:r66sg11mj6l0sifsv2v39oi4s5fn5mcgi0@news.easynews.com...
I was listening to Conversations With God, Book 1 last night. I noticed
the voice of God (well, Ed Asner) talking about a child being scolded in
his moments of greatest exuberance.
somehow the idea of ed asner reading a book about God just seems
sacriligious to me. i can just see God up there shuddering at the idea
Himself. <bg>
He only reads half... Ellen Burstyn reads the other half. :)
I'm her child. How come she didn't have to?
she did...she just chose not to. i don't know the reasons why, but she made
some pretty dang ***** poor choices in rearing her son.
It's interesting because I know that, intellectually at least. Emotionally,
the question is still asked by the mind of a child wanting to know why she
is doing that. He also wonders why his emotions seem to be, more or less,
automatic, whereas her emotions are the direct result of his behavior.
occasionally? maybe. maybe not. but you are a completely different person
from your mother. and there's no reason to assume you'll turn out to be the
same kind of parent that she was. personally, i believe that your little
girl is going to be very lucky to have such a "smart" and sensitive dad.
don't short yourself, droog. no, you won't be perfect, but you'll be
fine....just fine.
I hope so. I'd hate to think I'm going to actually change the diapers of a
being that could end up not liking me...
--
LABOR, n. One of the processes by which A acquires property for B.
- Ambrose Bierce
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| User: "wombn" |
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| Title: Re: Conversations With God |
26 Aug 2005 02:22:43 PM |
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On Fri, 26 Aug 2005 13:45:30 GMT, CyberDroog
<CyberDroog@ClockworkOrange.com> wrote:
don't short yourself, droog. no, you won't be perfect, but you'll be
fine....just fine.
I hope so. I'd hate to think I'm going to actually change the diapers of a
being that could end up not liking me...
isn't that (not liking you) the definition of "teenager"?
--
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Crap is the next great evolution after art" - Cyberdroog
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| User: "CyberDroog" |
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| Title: Re: Conversations With God |
26 Aug 2005 03:34:02 PM |
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On Fri, 26 Aug 2005 12:22:43 -0700, wombn <wombnhearmeroar@comcast.net>
wrote:
On Fri, 26 Aug 2005 13:45:30 GMT, CyberDroog
<CyberDroog@ClockworkOrange.com> wrote:
I hope so. I'd hate to think I'm going to actually change the diapers of a
being that could end up not liking me...
isn't that (not liking you) the definition of "teenager"?
Maybe in some ways. I'm sure I'll have to do things that Amanda won't care
for. So she'll be miffed. But hopefully she'll understand one day. But
my aim is for her never to have anything she'll be mad about when she's an
adult.
I do like my parents now. But then they no longer have any emotional power
over me, and they know it, so they don't act the same way. But I do watch
the grand kids being screamed at quite often and it reminds me a lot of my
childhood.
--
My spelling is Wobbly. It's good spelling but it Wobbles, and the
letters get in the wrong places.
- A. A. Milne (1882-1958)
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| User: "lisa in mass." |
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| Title: Re: Conversations With God |
25 Aug 2005 10:23:14 PM |
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CyberDroog wrote...
I was listening to Conversations With God, Book 1 last
night. I noticed the voice of God (well, Ed Asner) talking
about a child being scolded in his moments of greatest
exuberance.
I shuddered. I knew precisely what he was speaking of, and
I can recall many instances of my parents screaming at me
because they were sick of hearing me or I was "acting like
a little maniac".
It really doesn't seem to occur to many people just how
destructive that is. A child in such a situation doesn't
perceive such comments as merely suggesting that they need
to settle down because it's time to do something else, or
because they are disturbing someone else. What they hear
is "You are feeling joyous and that is *bad*!" This is
especially amplified by the stern, unhappy face of an angry
parent. "Don't feel the way you are feeling... feel the
way I look!"
A related sin in relation to children is to suggest that
any injury they sustain is their fault, or that they
deserve it. I recall one instance in particular when I ran
down the stairs and hit my knee on the banister. I caught
it right on the kneecap and hit it so hard that it knocked
the wind out of me. I couldn't talk, I could barely
breathe. I just stood there in shock with my mouth wide
open; my jaw locked.
My mother had just walked in and didn't know I had hit my
knee. So she stood there and screamed "What?" "What is
it?!" "What the hell is wrong with you!", and became
hysterical. Her penchant for falling into hysteria was
always my fault. I was about 13 then. My way of dealing
with it was, once I had caught my breath, to scream "*****
you, you stupid fat *****!"
Would I have even thought to say such a thing if I hadn't
been raised by her? I knew that this wasn't exactly
unavoidable on her part either. If I got hurt in public,
with other adults around, my mother never seemed to have
any trouble maintaining her emotions.
A similar example occurred in the middle of the night. I
had gotten up to go to the bathroom. While walking out I
slipped on a puddle of water by the tub and went down like
a sack of potatoes. My feet went straight up and I landed
on my back, right between the shoulder blades. I was
laying on the floor having a hard time getting up when my
mother came running in screaming "What the hell are you
doing!" "Do you know what time it is?!" "Why don't you be
more careful?!" She didn't even offer to help me up. That
lead to me saying "Would you be happier if I broke my
fucking neck?!"
So here I am, with a baby on the way. I can now feel the
little bugger fluttering around in my wife's belly. Not
too long now and she'll come into the world; a whole other
human being with which to interact.
How am I supposed to guard against ever behaving the way my
parents did? I suppose the anger and hysteria of my parents
is not too ingrained in me. I don't have any problem
dealing with my wife being injured. (Entering the kitchen
will, more often than not, result in her cutting or burning
herself... but don't tell her I said that <hehe>.) No
problem though, I just deal with it and make sure she feels
better as quickly as possible.
As a matter of fact, I have dealt with my mother having
asthma attacks, or being in unbearable pain because her
catheter has been blocked for hours and the home nurse is
nowhere to be found, all without ever getting angry and
berating her.
She's my mother. I have to.
I'm her child. How come she didn't have to?
Can a child make me emotional enough to fall back into my
parents method of dealing with things?
i had a childhood rife with emotional abuse. my mother still
doesn't see that what she did was so extremely wrong. she'll
never understand. i do, though, so my parenting is very much
different than hers was. and my mother has actually told me on
two occasions that i'm a much better parent than she ever was.
we are not bound to become our parents. if we can see what
needs to change, it is possible to do so. it is when people
think that their parents must have been right that history
repeats itself.
you'll be a great dad.
-lisa
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| User: "Noon Cat Nick" |
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| Title: Re: Conversations With God |
26 Aug 2005 06:36:01 PM |
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CyberDroog wrote:
<snip>
How am I supposed to guard against ever behaving the way my parents did?
I suppose the anger and hysteria of my parents is not too ingrained in me.
I don't have any problem dealing with my wife being injured. (Entering the
kitchen will, more often than not, result in her cutting or burning
herself... but don't tell her I said that <hehe>.) No problem though, I
just deal with it and make sure she feels better as quickly as possible.
As a matter of fact, I have dealt with my mother having asthma attacks, or
being in unbearable pain because her catheter has been blocked for hours
and the home nurse is nowhere to be found, all without ever getting angry
and berating her.
She's my mother. I have to.
I'm her child. How come she didn't have to?
Can a child make me emotional enough to fall back into my parents method of
dealing with things?
FATHER FORGETS
by W. Livingston Larned
My dear child: I am saying this as you lie asleep, one little hand
crumpled under your cheek and your blonde curls sticking to your wet
forehead. I have stolen into your room alone. Just a few minutes ago, as
I sat reading my paper, a stifling wave of remorse swept over me.
Guiltily I came to your bedside.
These are the things I was thinking, my child: I had been cross with
you. I scolded you as you were dressing for school because you didn't
wash your face well enough. I took you to task for not being able to
find your shoes. I yelled at you when you threw some of your things on
the floor.
At breakfast I found fault, too. You spilled things. You gulped down
your food. You put your elbows on the table. You put too much jelly on
your toast. And as you started off to school and I left for work, you
turned and waved and called, "Goodbye, Daddy!", and I frowned and said
in reply, "Don't run so fast!"
Then it began all over again in the afternoon. As I came up the road I
spied you, down on your knees, playing marbles with your friend. The
knees of your corduroys were dirty. I humiliated you in front of your
friends by marching you ahead of me into the house. I growled at you,
"Clothes are expensive - and if you had to buy them you would be more
careful!" Imagine that--from a father!
Do you remember, later, when I was on the sofa reading, how you came
into the living room timidly, with a sort of hurt look in your eyes?
When I glanced up over my paper, impatient at the interruption, you
hesitated at the door. "What do you want?" I snapped.
You said nothing, but ran across the room in one tempestuous plunge, and
threw your arms around my neck and kissed me, and your small arms
tightened with an affection that God had set blooming in your heart and
which even neglect could not wither. And then you were gone, pattering
up the stairs.
Well, it was shortly afterwards that my paper slipped from my hands and
a terrible sickening fear came over me. What had habit been doing to me?
The habit of finding fault, of reprimanding - this was my reward to you
for being my child. It wasn't that I didn't love you; it was that I
expected too much of youth. I was measuring you by the yardstick of my
own years.
And there is so much that is good and fine and true in your character.
Your little heart is as big as the dawn itself over the wide hills. This
was shown by your spontaneous impulse to rush in and kiss me good night.
Nothing else matters tonight, my child. I have come to your bedside in
the darkness, and I am kneeling here next to you, ashamed.
It is a feeble atonement; I know you would not understand these things
if I told them to you during your waking hours. But tomorrow I will
start being a real daddy. I will play with you, and suffer when you
suffer, and laugh when you laugh. I will bite my tongue when impatient
words come. I will keep reminding myself, saying it as if it were a
ritual: "You are only a child - a little child!"
I'm afraid I have visualized you as an adult. Yet as I see you now,
crumpled and weary in your bed, I see that you are still a child. Just
yesterday you were in your mother's arms, your head on her shoulder. I
have asked too much, too much...
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| User: "marika" |
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| Title: Re: Conversations With God |
26 Aug 2005 10:03:26 PM |
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Noon Cat Nick wrote:
FATHER FORGETS
by W. Livingston Larned
My dear child: I am saying this as you lie asleep, one little hand
crumpled under your cheek and your blonde curls sticking to your wet
forehead. I have stolen into your room alone. Just a few minutes ago, as
I sat reading my paper, a stifling wave of remorse swept over me.
Guiltily I came to your bedside.
I don't know you well enough , but I think we
should add "recycling" and "laughing at Chinese restaurants with no
rice"
mk5000
"if there's an audience for coke snorting, ***** sucking zombies, then
by all means let's publish the damn thing"--bret easton ellis' publisher
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| User: "CyberDroog" |
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| Title: Re: Conversations With God |
27 Aug 2005 10:00:21 AM |
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On Fri, 26 Aug 2005 23:36:01 GMT, Noon Cat Nick
<chatdemidiSPAMBEGONE@hotmail.com> wrote:
FATHER FORGETS
by W. Livingston Larned
I saved that. :)
--
You don't have to buy from anyone. You don't have to work at any
particular job. You don't have to participate in any given relationship.
You can choose.
- Harry Browne
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| User: "jill" |
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| Title: Re: Conversations With God |
27 Aug 2005 12:17:14 PM |
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You can talk to your kids till you are blue in the face and it is
what they see you do , that they will take with them into the world for
good or bad,
good luck! jill
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| User: "Gayle" |
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| Title: Re: Conversations With God |
25 Aug 2005 06:44:39 PM |
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CyberDroog wrote:
I'm her child. How come she didn't have to?
Maybe she didn't know any better?
Can a child make me emotional enough to fall back into my parents method of
dealing with things?
Nope, imo, as long as you keep paying
attention to how you're dealing with
things -- because you know better.
Gayle
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