Lost hope
I cried so
much today. I feel trapped in my head, in my room, in my life. I want to escape
and I feel held back by all the objects that I own. I want to sell all so that
I can make money to move somewhere by the beach and live out of a suitcase, to
be ready to leave at the earliest sign of danger and loneliness.
I wander if my dream to live out of a suitcase is a deep fear of growing roots and settle down or growing up. I would not settle down until I feel my heart is content with my life situation.
I feel deprived of joy, dreams, goals, hope. What is the point of doing anything if there is no promise of a better result? How others find strength and resilience to get themselves up and keep on going? Am I made from a very weak material? Why do I get broken easier than others?
Ever since I can remember, as a child, I felt different than my sisters. I felt I was not good enough as them. They were cute, jolly, clever, sociable, communicative, assertive, happy, they were eating everything. I was always the skinny one, the difficult one because I was not eating as I was fussy, I was not talking, I was not interactive with the relatives, I was shy, I was closed off. Why?
I remember that when I was about 4 years old, my parents send me to live with my grandparents. I would stay there with them for weeks without seeing my parents. I felt unwanted, rejected while my young sisters lived with my parents. My grandad used to threaten me that he would sell me to the gypsies if I wouldn't eat or misbehaved. Before bed time he would point out at the noise outside the window. He would say that the gypsies have arrived to take me and they were waiting. If I would not sleep, they would take me away. I was shivering with fear, being as quiet as I could to not be taken away. I would pray for my parents to come to take me home. I used to stay and listen to every noise outside to make sure it was quiet and that the gypsies left. Often I would cry fearful of the next day if I misbehaved. My grandad used to twist my wrist as a game of his. I did not like him at all. My grandma was convinced that I was an ill child and she was against showers and clean clothes to protect me. To her I had to keep on my bacteria because they were good for me. She used to say that I was a sensitive child and if I would take a bath and stay near the window, I would catch a cold. My tights and underwear were having holes. She would not give me clean ones. On the playground the kids used to laugh at me because I was scruffy like a beggar child. I felt dirty. When my parents would come to visit with my sister, they were clean, happy, smelling nice. Mom would tell grandma off for not washing me and grandma would protest that she was protecting me from catching a cold because getting wet and staying in the draft would get me sick. I felt like they were not my sisters and I did not feel adequate to be part of this family. I was different to them. They would tell me about the treats that mom gave them, then places they've been to etc. I would not get treats from grandma. I remember once my grandma made an exception on a hot summer and got me an ice cream. I was over the moon. She let me lick it once and we walked with it home and then she boiled it and put it in a glass for me to drink, and I had to wait for it to col down. She used to say that I always got a throat infection and the ice cream would get me sick. So no ice cream for me. She treated me as if I was made out of thin glass.
Mom at home would not let me lift things because I was too skinny and to her everything was too heavy for me, so she would ask my sisters to help, making me feel useless and weak. My family did not let me grow my hair because apparently, I have a small head and the long hair would make it even smaller. So, I used to have a short boyish haircut where my nose would stick out. I looked like a boy, feeling inadequate in my skin. My uncle used to take an A4 landscape notebook each time I refused to go to the hairdresser and he would put his fist in the middle of the notebook and then would say see this is your head and this notebook is your hair, it doesn't look good, because your hair is too big for you. Go cut it. Even last week when I went to see my dad, now at 37 when I have long hair to my waist, he told me to cut it short because it would suit me better. I blocked the comment going further.
Because of these and many other stories now I fear change, rejection, abandonment, commitment, relationships, people. I have no direction, no courage, no will, no joy, no support, no hope, no resilience. I am a quitter!
These past experiences formed me. At that time, I had no control, but today I have. I can choose what to eat, when to eat, to shower, to wear nice clothes, to grow my hair, to stay of leave from an uncomfortable situation when someone treats me bad. I am no longer forced to deal with it. What I realise is that in moments of self-doubts all this childhood fears start to surface strongly. I am fighting them to be diminished. What I learnt now is feeling is healing. Allow to feel what I feel, analyse it, understand that I am independent, in control and in a different situation that I have the power to change for the better and when I do not have the control of external things it's ok to elt them go and don't let them affect me. The control over my emotions is my biggest work towards my self-growth.
I wander if my dream to live out of a suitcase is a deep fear of growing roots and settle down or growing up. I would not settle down until I feel my heart is content with my life situation.
I feel deprived of joy, dreams, goals, hope. What is the point of doing anything if there is no promise of a better result? How others find strength and resilience to get themselves up and keep on going? Am I made from a very weak material? Why do I get broken easier than others?
Ever since I can remember, as a child, I felt different than my sisters. I felt I was not good enough as them. They were cute, jolly, clever, sociable, communicative, assertive, happy, they were eating everything. I was always the skinny one, the difficult one because I was not eating as I was fussy, I was not talking, I was not interactive with the relatives, I was shy, I was closed off. Why?
I remember that when I was about 4 years old, my parents send me to live with my grandparents. I would stay there with them for weeks without seeing my parents. I felt unwanted, rejected while my young sisters lived with my parents. My grandad used to threaten me that he would sell me to the gypsies if I wouldn't eat or misbehaved. Before bed time he would point out at the noise outside the window. He would say that the gypsies have arrived to take me and they were waiting. If I would not sleep, they would take me away. I was shivering with fear, being as quiet as I could to not be taken away. I would pray for my parents to come to take me home. I used to stay and listen to every noise outside to make sure it was quiet and that the gypsies left. Often I would cry fearful of the next day if I misbehaved. My grandad used to twist my wrist as a game of his. I did not like him at all. My grandma was convinced that I was an ill child and she was against showers and clean clothes to protect me. To her I had to keep on my bacteria because they were good for me. She used to say that I was a sensitive child and if I would take a bath and stay near the window, I would catch a cold. My tights and underwear were having holes. She would not give me clean ones. On the playground the kids used to laugh at me because I was scruffy like a beggar child. I felt dirty. When my parents would come to visit with my sister, they were clean, happy, smelling nice. Mom would tell grandma off for not washing me and grandma would protest that she was protecting me from catching a cold because getting wet and staying in the draft would get me sick. I felt like they were not my sisters and I did not feel adequate to be part of this family. I was different to them. They would tell me about the treats that mom gave them, then places they've been to etc. I would not get treats from grandma. I remember once my grandma made an exception on a hot summer and got me an ice cream. I was over the moon. She let me lick it once and we walked with it home and then she boiled it and put it in a glass for me to drink, and I had to wait for it to col down. She used to say that I always got a throat infection and the ice cream would get me sick. So no ice cream for me. She treated me as if I was made out of thin glass.
Mom at home would not let me lift things because I was too skinny and to her everything was too heavy for me, so she would ask my sisters to help, making me feel useless and weak. My family did not let me grow my hair because apparently, I have a small head and the long hair would make it even smaller. So, I used to have a short boyish haircut where my nose would stick out. I looked like a boy, feeling inadequate in my skin. My uncle used to take an A4 landscape notebook each time I refused to go to the hairdresser and he would put his fist in the middle of the notebook and then would say see this is your head and this notebook is your hair, it doesn't look good, because your hair is too big for you. Go cut it. Even last week when I went to see my dad, now at 37 when I have long hair to my waist, he told me to cut it short because it would suit me better. I blocked the comment going further.
Because of these and many other stories now I fear change, rejection, abandonment, commitment, relationships, people. I have no direction, no courage, no will, no joy, no support, no hope, no resilience. I am a quitter!
These past experiences formed me. At that time, I had no control, but today I have. I can choose what to eat, when to eat, to shower, to wear nice clothes, to grow my hair, to stay of leave from an uncomfortable situation when someone treats me bad. I am no longer forced to deal with it. What I realise is that in moments of self-doubts all this childhood fears start to surface strongly. I am fighting them to be diminished. What I learnt now is feeling is healing. Allow to feel what I feel, analyse it, understand that I am independent, in control and in a different situation that I have the power to change for the better and when I do not have the control of external things it's ok to elt them go and don't let them affect me. The control over my emotions is my biggest work towards my self-growth.
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