Hidden Masochists
I can't recall what thread it was, but I remember a member writing something about being a "reverse-hypochondriac", and it got me thinking about my own hidden-masochistic ways.
I thrive knowing I can endure pain and illness "like a man", (only stronger), and not complain. In fact, I grew-up with a father who would get angry and annoyed if I showed physical or mental weakness. I didn't realize how serious he was this "take your mind off the pain" mentality until I had knee surgery and he had me doing deep knee-bends that evening because he didn't want me getting soft and lazy. [I was no more than 15 at the time, and I look back and laugh at the insanity he called fatherly "love and concern". On the flip-side, he taught me how to effectively detatch myself from physical pain... so in that sense I gained strength through his barbaric ways and methods.]
Within my adoptive family, it was my mother who was seen as weak and sickly, and it was my job NOT to be like her. Are there other adoptees who had a similar personality legacy to live-up to... and what has "strength" cost you?
Comments
being the strongest
My a-mother was very much the weak party too. Though she was not sickly, she was always afraid of having some terrible illness. A true hypochondriac, who at the age of 80 has never spend a single moment in hospital so far.
When my a-father died, twelve years ago, she was forced to start really taking care of herself. I haven't heard of any hypochondria ever since. I believe it was part of their dynamics. In fact my a-father was much more fragile than my a-mother and they both needed their roles to make their marriage working.
Being confronted with two weak parents, one that really was, but didn't acknowledge that and one that wasn't really, but pretended to be, I was forced to be the strongest. As a result, I developed a strong frustration tolerance and have an underdeveloped sense of panic. I always had to remain the calm one.
The post mentioning being the opposite of a hypochondriac was almost_human's comment holy crap in The Scars That Won't Heal.
sounds familiar
in a world where people are connected with their emotions and are free to be emotional, there is often a lot of passion and hysterics.
in a world of abuse where you must disassociate yourself from your own painful emotions, in order to not fall apart into a hysterical mess, you must control and suppress anything exhibiting emotion. there are too many repercussions - externally and internally.
this constant self-censorship creates an internal tension without any means of release. the accumulation of this over time results in physical disease - hypertension, physical pains, ulcers, chronic depression, neurological damage, and suicidal thoughts. and in extreme cases of severe disassociation: multiple personalities, borderline personalities, and psychosis leading to murder.
i have always been the calm in the eye of every storm. remote even. with that underdeveloped sense of panic niels spoke of. reserved. in control.
but after four decades, i can't do it anymore. i am just one big shell-shocked quivering weak mass of jelly. i can suck it up no more.
i have to learn what emotions are and allow myself to feel them. it is time to stop being strong.
<nodding like a bobble-head>
I am almost 40 years old, and only found after years of high-blood pressure and vomiting blood, my "strength" has made my body weak and in need of care and attention.
It's so very difficult for me to ask for help... but without it, I'm afraid my worst nightmare will come true: I will die alone, without a soul knowing how much pain I have kept inside.
My Legacy
When I was 15, my mother married me off... And when she decided, afterwards, he wasn’t any good and I should
divorce him, she took me to a lawyer to start the proceedings.
I remember the pain... I remember her decision that I should be strong. I remember the pain that was not
allowed to be shown or dealt with and the dissociation that developed yet another hidden part of me.
SHE was this strong person who could take ANYTHING! And it was my duty to be like her... she created a monster.
I could only push the pain inside, hiding what she did not want to see.
I never asked for help. I only pretended there was nothing wrong, because that was how I was trained. Was there
help out there for me? I didn't dare know that there was; it was not for "strong" people like me."
Dying alone with no one knowing the TRUTH of the pain inside of me was a legacy my mother demanded of me. She's
dead! Why must I live, bound to her control even now? I have started accepting help; kicking and screaming, knowing
the pain it will cause to vomit up all the damaged parts.
IN A WORLD OF WHY,
Teddy