For as long as I can remember

I’ve had this thing, I called it the “emotional function.” It was a vestige of the abuse and shame. It was invoked when I was in pain. When something hurt me, it was “proof” that I was worthless. This is the mantra acc. to the abuser. God, my family, the world in general saw me as useless, unlovable, subpar, subhuman and the proof was that they didn’t care that I was hurting. So every time my family invoked some kind of teacher-student, “I’m older than you,” or other statement where the baseline position is one of superiority, it invoked this. My dad wasn’t a total snob, but he was a snob to some extent about his field. And, like all folks, tended to judge others based on what he knew. That’s what he taught all of us.

I was 10+ years younger than everyone, smaller, female, and not inclined towards intellectualism or financial dealings — I’m an English major sort of person, but not all that fond of literature either. I’m more of an athlete than my obese, asthmatic, diabetic family too. So I didn’t fit the standard in many ways. Every time I didn’t, this emotional function thing would run and it reinforced the “fact” that I was worthless, less than scum, valueless and generally subhuman. Some of this is the vestige of abuse, the feelng is a common in abused folk, like Dave Pelzer’s Child Called It and others, including me.

When something hurt, it ran. This was the catch in the back of my throat I could not get rid of, the pain that was always present.

Except, it did!

About 2-3 weeks ago. I had a crisis, the details don’t matter, but two people very close to me each made an effort to do something for me. Their efforts  validated my feelings and  made a point that I was worthy of paying attention to: they cared enough to make an effort to help. And that catch in the back of my throat? It  vanished.

Now it’s like the PTSD flashback — I can remember/feel what it was like, but it isn’t present all the time. Oh yes, it might return in some way shape or form once in a  blue moon down the road, but the piece that absolutely was never touched no matter how much work I did is gone.

I did a flowchart of what it was like last year. It’s below.

function bad guyAs you can see, there’s no way out.

But I am!

Change indeed.

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