| Topic: |
Sociology > Depression |
| User: |
"Nina" |
| Date: |
08 Nov 2004 09:52:40 PM |
| Object: |
the roles we learn |
It slaps me in the face, now and again, the way we learn roles and
play them again and again, unless we do something different. And it
is so very hard to do something different.
My soon-to-be-ex husband (not nearly soon enough, sigh) told me a
story tonight about someone at work, a young woman who's having
problems with a coworker, something that's rather like sexual
harassment... and it is, but the more you examine the story, the more
you realize that part of the problem lies with her, in that she began
by complying, by going along with something because it was easier than
saying no, because she was uncomfortable with saying no. And it
becomes hard to know who to blame, exactly... while the other person
was certainly wrong and certainly behaved inappropriately, he had some
reasonable reasons to think that he was just continuing with something
that she'd encouraged before. Not so black and white.
And it just sent me back... as a conversation that I'd had with
Michael had earlier, anyway... to times when I was around that age,
and some things that I did because I didn't know how to say no,
because I didn't think that I was allowed to say no, because I had no
self-esteem. And they weren't terrible or violent things, and they
didn't scar me for life or anything, but they leave me, even now, more
than 20 years later, with a bitter taste in my mouth and a lot of
seething, dark anger. Not at the other people involved in the actual
events, because, like the story above, in most cases, it wasn't a
black and white thing, but at my parents and at all the other people
in my life who did not teach me that I was a valuable thing. I don't
know what to do with that anger; it makes me sad and furious, and it
makes me want to hurt myself, because I don't know what to do with it,
and some sick thing in me wants to take it out on myself.
It's funny to be developing some sense of self-worth when you're
probably halfway or more through your life. It's hard to know what to
be. It's hard not to mourn all the choices you made without it, the
past that you weren't allowed to have.
Plus you get the touches of the bizarre. One is having my STBX
husband ask me how one develops a sense of self esteem. And I said to
him, it helps if you have someone who is supportive of that, because
it is hard to do on your own, and if you get the wrong messages from
people you care about, it only makes it harder. You have to wonder if
he appreciated the irony or understood that I could not do it at all
until I made some kind of mental break from him, that I had to stop
really caring about him in order to care about myself, because he was
so detrimental it all. Not that he tried to be... but, well, if
you're not part of the solution.... and he was distinctly part of the
problem, and still is.
And of course, if it isn't one role, it's another. So I sat here,
aching with the aloneness and stress and, I don't know, the constant
discomfort that I'm feeling these days, because I don't know where or
who I am, and I buried my head in a book that I've read tens of times,
and ate all sorts of junk that I should really have skipped. Seeking
some hollow comfort that doesn't live there anymore.
Nina
_____________
"In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me lay an invincible summer."
-Albert Camus
.
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| User: "Teilhard Knight" |
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| Title: Re: the roles we learn |
09 Nov 2004 07:07:56 AM |
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"Nina" <ninaNOSPAM@economika.net> escribió en el mensaje
news:sfe0p0hnd93n1cmn8ta5ugn0g2achk9si1@4ax.com...
It slaps me in the face, now and again, the way we learn roles and
play them again and again, unless we do something different. And it
is so very hard to do something different.
My soon-to-be-ex husband (not nearly soon enough, sigh) told me a
story tonight about someone at work, a young woman who's having
problems with a coworker, something that's rather like sexual
harassment... and it is, but the more you examine the story, the more
you realize that part of the problem lies with her, in that she began
by complying, by going along with something because it was easier than
saying no, because she was uncomfortable with saying no. And it
becomes hard to know who to blame, exactly... while the other person
was certainly wrong and certainly behaved inappropriately, he had some
reasonable reasons to think that he was just continuing with something
that she'd encouraged before. Not so black and white.
And it just sent me back... as a conversation that I'd had with
Michael had earlier, anyway... to times when I was around that age,
and some things that I did because I didn't know how to say no,
because I didn't think that I was allowed to say no, because I had no
self-esteem. And they weren't terrible or violent things, and they
didn't scar me for life or anything, but they leave me, even now, more
than 20 years later, with a bitter taste in my mouth and a lot of
seething, dark anger. Not at the other people involved in the actual
events, because, like the story above, in most cases, it wasn't a
black and white thing, but at my parents and at all the other people
in my life who did not teach me that I was a valuable thing. I don't
know what to do with that anger; it makes me sad and furious, and it
makes me want to hurt myself, because I don't know what to do with it,
and some sick thing in me wants to take it out on myself.
It's funny to be developing some sense of self-worth when you're
probably halfway or more through your life. It's hard to know what to
be. It's hard not to mourn all the choices you made without it, the
past that you weren't allowed to have.
Plus you get the touches of the bizarre. One is having my STBX
husband ask me how one develops a sense of self esteem. And I said to
him, it helps if you have someone who is supportive of that, because
it is hard to do on your own, and if you get the wrong messages from
people you care about, it only makes it harder. You have to wonder if
he appreciated the irony or understood that I could not do it at all
until I made some kind of mental break from him, that I had to stop
really caring about him in order to care about myself, because he was
so detrimental it all. Not that he tried to be... but, well, if
you're not part of the solution.... and he was distinctly part of the
problem, and still is.
And of course, if it isn't one role, it's another. So I sat here,
aching with the aloneness and stress and, I don't know, the constant
discomfort that I'm feeling these days, because I don't know where or
who I am, and I buried my head in a book that I've read tens of times,
and ate all sorts of junk that I should really have skipped. Seeking
some hollow comfort that doesn't live there anymore.
I think I still don't learn how to say "no" in every occassion I have to say
"no". I also get angry at past events when I should have said no and I
didn't. But I have looked for means to let it go, and not take it against
myself. After all, I did what I could. I have learnt that punishing myself
for not being up to what I would wish I was me is sterile and only makes my
life miserable. I prefer to laugh at myself than to punish myself.
--
Teilhard Knight
The Extraterrestrial
Change "privacy" for "softhome" if you want to intrude my inbox.
.
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| User: "% surfs@uniserve" |
|
| Title: Re: the roles we learn |
08 Nov 2004 10:00:59 PM |
|
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"Nina" <ninaNOSPAM@economika.net> wrote in message
news:sfe0p0hnd93n1cmn8ta5ugn0g2achk9si1@4ax.com...
It slaps me in the face, now and again, the way we learn roles and
play them again and again, unless we do something different. And it
is so very hard to do something different.
My soon-to-be-ex husband (not nearly soon enough, sigh) told me a
story tonight about someone at work, a young woman who's having
problems with a coworker, something that's rather like sexual
harassment... and it is, but the more you examine the story, the more
you realize that part of the problem lies with her, in that she began
by complying, by going along with something because it was easier than
saying no, because she was uncomfortable with saying no. And it
becomes hard to know who to blame, exactly... while the other person
was certainly wrong and certainly behaved inappropriately, he had some
reasonable reasons to think that he was just continuing with something
that she'd encouraged before. Not so black and white.
And it just sent me back... as a conversation that I'd had with
Michael had earlier, anyway... to times when I was around that age,
and some things that I did because I didn't know how to say no,
because I didn't think that I was allowed to say no, because I had no
self-esteem. And they weren't terrible or violent things, and they
didn't scar me for life or anything, but they leave me, even now, more
than 20 years later, with a bitter taste in my mouth and a lot of
seething, dark anger. Not at the other people involved in the actual
events, because, like the story above, in most cases, it wasn't a
black and white thing, but at my parents and at all the other people
in my life who did not teach me that I was a valuable thing. I don't
know what to do with that anger; it makes me sad and furious, and it
makes me want to hurt myself, because I don't know what to do with it,
and some sick thing in me wants to take it out on myself.
It's funny to be developing some sense of self-worth when you're
probably halfway or more through your life. It's hard to know what to
be. It's hard not to mourn all the choices you made without it, the
past that you weren't allowed to have.
Plus you get the touches of the bizarre. One is having my STBX
husband ask me how one develops a sense of self esteem. And I said to
him, it helps if you have someone who is supportive of that, because
it is hard to do on your own, and if you get the wrong messages from
people you care about, it only makes it harder. You have to wonder if
he appreciated the irony or understood that I could not do it at all
until I made some kind of mental break from him, that I had to stop
really caring about him in order to care about myself, because he was
so detrimental it all. Not that he tried to be... but, well, if
you're not part of the solution.... and he was distinctly part of the
problem, and still is.
And of course, if it isn't one role, it's another. So I sat here,
aching with the aloneness and stress and, I don't know, the constant
discomfort that I'm feeling these days, because I don't know where or
who I am, and I buried my head in a book that I've read tens of times,
and ate all sorts of junk that I should really have skipped. Seeking
some hollow comfort that doesn't live there anymore.
Nina
_____________
"In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me lay an
invincible summer."
-Albert Camus
was it peas ?
.
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| User: "wombn" |
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| Title: Re: the roles we learn |
09 Nov 2004 12:21:08 AM |
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I can relate to so much of this post!
--
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
If laughter is the best medicine,
then kittens should be covered by our health insurance. :-)
.
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| User: "% surfs@uniserve" |
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| Title: Re: the roles we learn |
09 Nov 2004 12:29:18 AM |
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the virus i got in the mail today ,
had this address , but i know it wasn't you ,
because if you e-mailed me , i'd be so scared i'd leave usenet for good ,
cause janithor says you have a bulls *****
"wombn" <wombnhearmeroar@comcast.net> wrote in message
news:8eo0p0tf2100tccbhs0gftsn5h7eqgo6sn@4ax.com...
I can relate to so much of this post!
--
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
-----------
If laughter is the best medicine,
then kittens should be covered by our health insurance. :-)
.
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| User: "Patricia" |
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| Title: Re: the roles we learn |
09 Nov 2004 08:56:03 AM |
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On Mon, 08 Nov 2004 22:52:40 -0500, Nina <ninaNOSPAM@economika.net>
wrote:
but they leave me, even now, more
than 20 years later, with a bitter taste in my mouth and a lot of
seething, dark anger. Not at the other people involved in the actual
events, because, like the story above, in most cases, it wasn't a
black and white thing, but at my parents and at all the other people
in my life who did not teach me that I was a valuable thing.
And at this point, I wanted to tell you, Nina, that I was nodding
like a demented thing...
I wish I could tell you that I did this and I did that and then the
anger was gone. It was much more, I think, that slowly I came to
realize that the anger was hurting ME and not changing the situations
in the past at all.
I talked about it a lot to a therapist and wrote interminally about
it, and slowly the anger seeped away.
Now I think of these people who so damaged me then as that most of
them did the best they could with what they had. The fact that it was
intensely damaging to me at that time is not important now. What IS
important to me these days is to live in the present and to deal with
the present.
Patricia
"eat less; move more."
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| User: "Waxwing" |
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| Title: Re: the roles we learn |
09 Nov 2004 09:19:38 AM |
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x-no-archive: yes
On Mon, 08 Nov 2004 22:52:40 -0500, Nina
<ninaNOSPAM@economika.net> wrote:
It slaps me in the face, now and again, the way we learn roles and
play them again and again, unless we do something different. And it
is so very hard to do something different.
I always loved that quote in _As you like it_
All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
.
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