A Coloured Cloud
My job is miserable. John was trying to explain to me last night that my mother is an extremely abusive boss. I know. I feel like there's nothing I can do about it and that I'm stuck. Discussing it and even thinking too negatively about it kept bringing to mind the idea of betrayal, like I was betraying them by even thinking certain things. That's important to realize and connect with the idea of my inability to separate from my family.
The other thing is, and I realized this just now, that instilled within me is the notion that obviously, ultimately no one can be as good or better than my family, especially my brother and father. They are always right and the best. It makes me uncomfortable to even think otherwise. And, interestingly enough, it makes me very uncomfortable to think of them in any setting where they would act differently from me. I wouldn't want to think of them while eating dessert at a restaurant, or going out to get a drink, or smoking hookah. When I eat around them, I can't eat too much and I can't eat anything they consider unhealthy to eat - they consider me above that and I like to keep it that way. I don't want them to think that I'm not as good.
I dislike looking disheveled around them, or not wearing make up when my face is broken out.
If my brother looks at a book I'm reading disapprovingly, even if he doesn't know anything about it, I'll find things wrong with it and make a point of telling him those flaws. And the next time I read something, I'll make sure that it's written by an author that I know to be highly acclaimed; I'll be very discerning.
And I've become a much harsher critic than any of them because I'm anticipating the disapproval and trying to avoid it. I've become pretty refined because of it, which is the upside to it. But I'm not sure if it's worth the downside. It's made my life a living hell, in fact.
One realization I had yesterday in therapy was that when John and I returned from Florida and I was unbelievably comfortable around him and wearing sweatpants and acting very carefree, I scared myself out of it by comparing myself to Mikey's girlfriend, who is an unbelievable stoner, a slob, and incredibly unintelligent; the opposite of the sophisticate I esteem myself as being. So, I immediately felt uncomfortable again, and I also began judging how he was so unsophisticated (in his table manners, etc.) and decided to try making him much more sophisticated. Blegh.
There's something to this and I'm afraid of venturing out on my own and making my existence trite. I so admire my father and brother that I've tried to become one of them. And I've succeeded. But they're both themselves and I refuse to let myself out of this mold of how I think I should be. Why can't I take everything I am, everything I've learned from them, and grow on my own? In any direction? Why can't I accept what John brings to the table that may be valuable, even though they might not think it is valuable (though that's just my perception of how I think they would judge it)? Why did I decide that they are the end-all authorities? There's nothing wrong with them; they didn't do anything wrong to make me feel this way. I make myself feel this way about them now. They didn't tell me to be like them; they're unbelievably wonderful people.
But who am I without them? The thought alone churns up my stomach and my reaction is one in which I want to be closer to them and push John away. That's just my reaction, just now, without thinking about it any further than asking the question, 'who am I without them?'.
The first answer that pops into my mind: I'm no one.
The other thing is, and I realized this just now, that instilled within me is the notion that obviously, ultimately no one can be as good or better than my family, especially my brother and father. They are always right and the best. It makes me uncomfortable to even think otherwise. And, interestingly enough, it makes me very uncomfortable to think of them in any setting where they would act differently from me. I wouldn't want to think of them while eating dessert at a restaurant, or going out to get a drink, or smoking hookah. When I eat around them, I can't eat too much and I can't eat anything they consider unhealthy to eat - they consider me above that and I like to keep it that way. I don't want them to think that I'm not as good.
I dislike looking disheveled around them, or not wearing make up when my face is broken out.
If my brother looks at a book I'm reading disapprovingly, even if he doesn't know anything about it, I'll find things wrong with it and make a point of telling him those flaws. And the next time I read something, I'll make sure that it's written by an author that I know to be highly acclaimed; I'll be very discerning.
And I've become a much harsher critic than any of them because I'm anticipating the disapproval and trying to avoid it. I've become pretty refined because of it, which is the upside to it. But I'm not sure if it's worth the downside. It's made my life a living hell, in fact.
One realization I had yesterday in therapy was that when John and I returned from Florida and I was unbelievably comfortable around him and wearing sweatpants and acting very carefree, I scared myself out of it by comparing myself to Mikey's girlfriend, who is an unbelievable stoner, a slob, and incredibly unintelligent; the opposite of the sophisticate I esteem myself as being. So, I immediately felt uncomfortable again, and I also began judging how he was so unsophisticated (in his table manners, etc.) and decided to try making him much more sophisticated. Blegh.
There's something to this and I'm afraid of venturing out on my own and making my existence trite. I so admire my father and brother that I've tried to become one of them. And I've succeeded. But they're both themselves and I refuse to let myself out of this mold of how I think I should be. Why can't I take everything I am, everything I've learned from them, and grow on my own? In any direction? Why can't I accept what John brings to the table that may be valuable, even though they might not think it is valuable (though that's just my perception of how I think they would judge it)? Why did I decide that they are the end-all authorities? There's nothing wrong with them; they didn't do anything wrong to make me feel this way. I make myself feel this way about them now. They didn't tell me to be like them; they're unbelievably wonderful people.
But who am I without them? The thought alone churns up my stomach and my reaction is one in which I want to be closer to them and push John away. That's just my reaction, just now, without thinking about it any further than asking the question, 'who am I without them?'.
The first answer that pops into my mind: I'm no one.