I was raised in a manner that led to my emotional masochism. But, I’ll avoid highlighting any specific instances of abuse that may have contributed. I’ve found that pursuit as silly as reaching for a pill to solve this.
I’m also not certain how genetics might influence this development in an individual.
But I do know that when this pain rings, I get transported back in time to being scolded as a child, my vision tunneling down to his eyes as he screams. Almost as if he was downloading his pain into me through his clearly hurt, but disturbingly lifeless eyes.
It took a long time to recognize my choice in becoming bewitched by that pain ringing in my head. Allowing myself to forget the life I’ve built since, handing my body over to that broken child still inside me, and being fully consumed by it.
I think the most revealing thing I learned from someone not suffering from anxiety is that they can have these hurt feelings too, just not as severe. Their view doesn’t tunnel. Their world doesn’t crumble with despair.
It’s like how I am able to drink alcohol, but not to excess. Other people are able to feel hurt, but not the soul-shattering, existence-threatening hurt that I would feel about the same event.
I’m not a different species, I just suffer from a weakness that propels me deeper into hurt than necessary. Others might recognize hurt when it happens, but they don’t pile on and push themselves deeper.
That’s what I do. Like a hurt-aholic.
I’ve been programmed in a way that pushes me towards the fire in my brain.
I would assume it is due to being trained to pre-punish myself as a kid. Like, if I punish myself enough then my oppressor might not see the need to punish me further.
But now that I’m grown, and my oppressor long since departed, I don’t know why I still punish myself for silly things.
Accidentally spilling a drink shouldn’t shatter both the glass and my sense of self. I need to learn to accept my mistakes at least as well as I’ve learned to accept apologies from others.
I think that’s where humility has to play a role.
It’s hard to break any emotionally-driven habit, it’s even harder to recognize how silly I’ve been in the first place. I feel so stupid, so often.
I know these seeds were planted in me against my will, but that part of my experience is done now. Now I can discover a new way to be. I can break the cycle.
The reason I’ve prioritized myself as first to blame in my mind was merely a function of old source code. Corrupt code.
Humility opened the door to upgrading myself. And that process began by accepting the painfully-revealing span of time I spent in that corrupt mindset.
Because I initially only saw that as wasted time, which only ever made me angry. Made me feel weak.
It was once I forgave myself for all the time I’ve lost to destructively divergent thinking that I was able to decide: No further time needs to be sacrificed operating with code I’ve accepted as busted.
This doesn’t mean I’ve just stopped ever feeling hurt. But it does allow me the humility to accept when hurt comes and dissect why it arrived.
I’m now allowing myself a little distance from my emotional reactions. Perspective in real-time. I had never allowed that before, I considered it second-guessing myself. And that felt wrong, because that carved out a chance that I was wrong. The Horror!
And by documenting my journey through the darkness, I hope I can find a path towards a good that benefits more than just me. I want to show others this kind of thing isn’t a death sentence, because there are times where it feels exactly like that.