Until

 

They Couldn't Carry It

 

Not Required

 

Self-Care Bingo

 

No Greater Agony...

 

You’re Not Wrong!

 

“You’re Not Wrong!”

Is that music to your ears? A soothing balm? Something you cannot trust or believe for yourself?

Abuse survivors often live under the judgment of always being wrong: in thought, in word, in deed, in appearance, in beliefs, in identity, in sexuality. You name it; you and I have probably been told we’re wrong, not right, about it.

We are disempowered and deceived into believing we need “fixing” of some sort.

Why is that? The answers can be complicated, unique, and varied. But, perhaps, here are some explanations to this “certainty” that we are wrong, never to be “right.”

An In Utero Job Description:

Well, there’s just nothing like going back to the start of it all.

Trace ALL the way back, before we even arrived on the planet!

And it’s not such an absurd premise to think along these lines. After all, how many expectant parents, preparing for their new arrival, project their hopes, dreams, plans, goals, and yes, jobs onto their unborn child? It may not be intentionally malevolent, but its impact, nonetheless, can be harmful and devastating.

Because, however overtly or subtly, we have a job description subscribed to us.

It could be that we need to fulfill the parent’s unrealized dream. It could be that we need to keep the parent from being lonely or depressed. It could be that we need to carry on the family name. It could be that we provide identity and purpose to the parent. It could be an actual job description that we work in the family business and financially support the parent(s) as the designated moneymaker.

Some examples of job descriptions and pressurized circumstances to rise to the occasion, from birth on, exist all to serve the parent.

Being Made Wrong:

What’s the purpose of being wrong here?

Being the child, just born, assigned this job or role is a set up for failure. There is no real winning here. For, inevitably, our life and performance will not match the parent’s vision of what that looks like in their own head.

We fail to fulfill a job description and a purpose we didn’t ask for, in that exacting specification. Nevertheless, we were still given that job to execute successfully. Therefore, our failure to do just that can better absolve the parent, the family belief system, and the necessary sense of responsibility these individuals have for their choices. The blame shifting begins, from their role, as adults, to us, as the children we are, no matter what age and stage we are, in the situation.

The child is the problem, not the adult.

And that’s easier and more comfortable for the adult to accept. The adult parent doesn’t need to address, face, change, and accept their own dysfunction, disorder, addiction, failure, weakness, or any harmful dynamic, if the child is the solely wrong party.

If the child, you are I, are wrong, then the adult, our family member, gets to be right.

Inability to Be Constantly Perfect:

Often, along with our in utero job description, lies the mandate of perfection. Perfection can translate to any number of associations and meanings. Perfection can equal such things as  safety, comfort, aesthetic image, success, and love.

We must look perfectly, speak perfectly, act perfectly, obey perfectly, respond perfectly, and meet needs and expectations perfectly to be considered “right.”

There is nothing shy of achieving those criteria that will do.

So, we can turn to addictions and eating disorders, as a way of executing this perfection, or consoling ourselves for not achieving it. We can punish ourselves through self-injury. We can get tunnel vision and become Machiavellian in our pursuits, doing “whatever it takes” to accomplish that perfection, including committing crimes and making choices that are not ones of personal integrity.

Image is prized over truth, certainly over human imperfection. That is not allowed.

For some of us, being imperfect is, as extreme as it sounds, punishable by death.

Being Made Wrong:

What purpose does this tactic of striving for unattainable perfection serve?

If we, as the children of this kind of parent, fail to reach and perpetually sustain perfection, we again, get to be designated as “the problem.”

How much more so if that parent is putting out a well-honed and false standard that keeps up those necessary appearances?

If the parent is highly achieving, with accolades, while the child gets all As and one B plus, the message is that it’s the child who is not measuring up, not the parent. The parent can achieve perfection. Therefore, really, how difficult is it for the offspring to do likewise?

The apple doesn’t fall from the tree, right?

It’s convenient for the adult parent, because the focus from others often goes to the source of imperfection, not to the good-looking, pulled-together adult instead.

If, indeed, the proverbial apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, it can, then, be reasoned that the kid, is the “one bad apple.”

“The problem child.” The “issue.” The “wrong” party.

Again, who is exalted and spared and who is punished and made responsible?

Who is right and who is wrong?

And who derives power from that determination?

Being right can feed the ego.

And if a person is dysregulated and dysfunctional, that ego-feeding can reach a desired sense of all-importance, with raising their child coming in at a DISTANT second.

Being Yourself:

“To thine own self be true.”

Act I, Scene III, “Hamlet,” by William Shakespeare

Nope. Forget about that!

There is no such thing as “thine own self.”

We, according to a certain parent, need to be someone else. Sometimes, it’s them, a little “mini-me” or an exact clone. Sometimes, it’s a particular archetype: the “good boy or girl,” the star athlete, “The Star,” in general.

Yes, indeed, many decades ago, some mothers tried to fashion their little girls after famous child star, Shirley Temple. How many two, three and four-years old had their hair set in curlers each night, while being shoved into dance classes against their will? All to become the next Shirley Temple.

Yeah, you get the picture. Maybe some of you have flashbacks from being forced to sing “On the Good Ship Lollipop.”

And although Shirley Temple now is long gone, child beauty pageants and kiddie talent shows, unfortunately, keep the star search alive and well. The promise of “getting discovered” lights up the eyes of many parents who desire to live vicariously through their children. Fame, wealth, attention, and luxurious perks are to be mined within the child who is just ripe for the picking.

With this emphasis on choosing “other” to make up for the child the parent already has, very little focus or positive association is given to the concept that this child is their own unique, wonderful being, with individuality and traits all their own.

Nope, that concept only classifies the child as wrong, defective, in need of changing, somehow.

Being Made Wrong:

What purpose does this tactic serve?

Again, it’s a game of who’s right and who’s wrong. Certain adults, certain parents can decide, with the utmost authority, that any choice a child makes that does not exactly align with their world view, is wrong, wrong, wrong.

And that includes the choice for the child to be their own separate person. How dare they? That’s the cry when the child defies the adult “who knows better.”

So, perhaps, the only way in the adult parent’s mind to be right is to make another person, their child, wrong. It’s ego-driven. Being “right” is more important to them than raising and loving their children. It may be deliberate or unconscious.

Nevertheless, the explanation that the dysfunctional adult needs, even in the context of relating to their own children, is that they are inherently and forever right. A child becoming fully who they are is betrayal, disobedience, evil intent, even. The adult personalizes it and makes it about them. They do this instead of recognizing that each child, including their child, is a separate human being. And that is not an aggressive declaration of war on the parent.

The adult will not, or cannot, see it as such.

You’re Not Wrong! You’re Right!

Maybe you have never heard that before. It’s not about a person being perfect, never making mistakes. We all do. But who you are is separate from what you do. You can have wrong actions; you can make mistakes. But who you are is NOT wrong. The individual, in all of your uniqueness, is not wrong. You are right. And your individuality is to be celebrated not condemned.

The next time you encounter the decree that who you are is wrong, consider the statement’s source.

And its agenda.

Copyright © 2022 by Sheryle Cruse

The Autopsy

 

Autopsy. It’s not a pleasant word. It’s not cute. It’s not fun. It’s grim.

It’s grisly.

But when there’s a dead body, it needs to be dealt with. Otherwise, the rotting corpse will bring about other unwelcomed issues. Flies laying eggs. Maggots. A putrid room condition in which the corpse is stinking up the joint. Eventually, the dead body’s gaseous state, which, left unattended, will build up, until it explodes all over the walls and ceiling.

And those are fun renovations to deal with, aren’t they?

An autopsy, therefore, is necessary in determining what went wrong, sometimes because of criminal activity. But “the dead man’s tale,” in one way or another, needs to be told. What happened? How did the corpse arrive at this state?

Hindsight is twenty-twenty. It often occurs when we have some space, time, and reflection to process what just happened.

If you and I live long enough on this blue marble, we’ll eventually litter our lives with some metaphorical corpses of our own (hopefully, there are no felonies, but life happens).

These corpses, these dead things can be such things as relationships, experiences of poor judgment, sacrificing/compromising our ethics and morality, and self-sabotage. Whatever these things may be, and how varied they may be, they have some common denominators, qualifying them for a good ole’ fashioned autopsy.

Autopsy: It’s pronounced dead.

It’s the first component for an autopsy: it needs to be completely and fully dead. This speaks to the concept of acceptance. Calling a dead thing a dead thing, not holding out unrealistic hope for resurrection.

It’s stark; it’s bleak. There’s no hope.

Because of that assessment, this simple realization is anything but easy to reach. We want hope; we want to hang onto to it.

We want to believe in second chances, in the benefit of the doubt, in “love conquers all,” in “happily ever after.”

That will keep us avoiding the autopsy for a long period of time.

I used to perform this monologue from Christopher Durang’s “'Denity Crisis” in my acting class years ago. It evokes and answers to the brutal approach that we, perhaps, need to take to “toxic hope.”

“...You remember how in the second act Tinkerbell drinks some poison that Peter's about to drink, in order to save him? And then Peter turns to the audience, and he says that Tinkerbell's going to die because not enough people believe in fairies, but that if everybody in the audience claps real hard to show that they do believe in fairies, then maybe Tinkerbell won't die…. and so then all the children started to clap…. we clapped very hard and very long…. my palms hurt and even started to bleed I clapped so hard…. then suddenly the actress playing Peter Pan turned to the audience and she said, ‘that wasn't enough. You didn't clap hard enough. Tinkerbell's dead.’  Uh..well, and..and then everyone started to cry. The actress stalked offstage and refused to continue with the play, and they finally had to bring down the curtain. No one could see anything through all the tears, and the ushers had to come help the children up the aisles and out into the street. I don't think I was ever the same after that.”

Brutal autopsy. Radical acceptance. It’s dead.

Tinkerbell’s dead.

Now what?

Now the autopsy can begin.

Autopsy: It’s laid out on a slab.

Now that everyone has determined that the corpse is, indeed, dead, we need to lay it out as such. We need a slab. We need a place to examine the dead thing.

For those of us reflecting on a certain past issue, be it person or situation, the slab can be a therapist’s office. It usually speaks to the concept of a “safe space,” or a haven.

It’s the setting and the mechanism in which we do our work. We perform the autopsy.

Just like it would be absurd, unrealistic, or dysfunctional to expect an autopsy of a dead body being performed by a coroner in the middle of a highway during rush hour traffic, it is equally insane to expect thorough dissection and analysis of our dead, but painful, things within our own lives.

We need time, space, calm, quiet, information, language, and the permission to employ all of these things as we go about our deeply personal autopsies.

We need to be safe to do so.

And if we’re not?

Recognizing that we are important and valuable enough to have safety be preeminent. This is needed in circumstances in which we are literally not safe: physically, financially, emotionally. It is, of course, not ideal, having this setup in our lives. Determining the power of recognition of this fact, therefore, can be therapeutic, despite the “facts.”

Perhaps, now is not the time. Perhaps, it’s unsafe to tackle the deep work of the autopsy. Perhaps, we are not ready to engage in this. Perhaps, wisdom, time, distance, in addition to other resources, need to enter in. and now is not the time of that entrance.

Instead of beating ourselves up about this, we can make the paradigm shift about these difficult realities, impacting our lives, we can look at our circumstances as the imperfect slab, or a kind of “pre-slab.” This can allow for hope, not despair.

The slab is a real thing, waiting for us, regardless of what our lives look like now.

We may not be “there” yet, but we can do something to prepare to get there.

What is that?

Autopsy:  It’s inspected thoroughly.

So, we now know it’s dead. We have our slab.  Therefore, we are ready for the examination. We need to poke around and see what went wrong. What happened?

The inspection process of an autopsy is gruesome. The top of the skull can be removed to check the brain tissue for blows to the head, or for signs of disease, like cancer or dementia. The sternum and the ribcage are opened, revealing the internal organs. Those organs are removed, weighed, and opened as well, to reveal their contents. What did the person have to eat as their last meal? What tumors, calcifications, or abnormalities are present? Bruising, lacerations, and abrasions on the body are noted as well. How did they get there? And then, there’s a combing for additional fibers or objects that would not normally exist on a human body. What’s their story?

Likewise, our life circumstances can require a similar introspection. Soured relationships, missed opportunities, and personal/dysfunctional behaviors on our part can be the internal organs giving evidence of what went wrong. Were we abused? Do we struggle with anger, boundary, or trust issues? Are we immature? Are we codependent? What’s our self-esteem portrait?

Notice how the common denominator of these questions and these examinations is us. No, not everything is our fault. If we were abused, it’s the abuser who was wrong, not us.

But we are central to what happens to and in us. We respond, react, and behave according to what has happened to us. We can be as enlightened, mature, “well-adjusted,” and wise as we want to be. Still, we are affected. We may rise above circumstances, but we are affected.

Autopsies provide us with the opportunity to become better and healthier. It’s not about focusing on the negative for the sole purpose of beating ourselves up, telling ourselves we’re stupid and we deserve what happened to us.

No. Instead, if we can assess the patterns that have been at play, be they active or passive patterns, we can course correct. Again, therapy can be a vital part of that healthier course correction. Confronting and changing, over time, those things which do not serve us can feel like the equivalent of a full body cavity autopsy of a dead, cold, and blue-tinted corpse. We may, at first glance, only see death and putrid conditions.

But we need to see those things. We need to see the ugly. Then we can change it.

The autopsy helps us to do that.

Autopsy: It’s washed.

Once an autopsy is performed, with the necessary evidence scraped and collected, the dead body needs to be washed. The corpse may need to be presented to the grieving family. The corpse needs to be presentable enough to enable his/her loved ones to make the necessary burial, funeral, or memorial arrangements. This cleansing is needed for a type of closure in the death and grieving process.

It's a similar thing for us, especially as we try to come to terms with the loss, the trauma, and the disturbing upset of life-changing events in our lives.

Closure. It’s something that is not an easy thing to achieve for so many of us. It may not be possible at all. Loose ends and unanswered questions do not provide us, many times, with the peaceful resolutions we are yearning for.

Much of the time, we feel dirty and tired. After all, we’ve faced and wrestled with the ugliness of our painful issues. That leaves its mark. We long to feel freed and refreshed. Some of us desire cleansing and purification, as shame has stuck to us in so many a painful circumstance.

Many therapeutic approached, weekend retreats, and self-improvement workshops introduce rituals that can be a form of baptism or rebirth. Some of my inner child therapy involved a ritualistic bath with rose water. Supposedly, the rose scent has a calming and cleansing impact on the tender inner child.

Whatever the case may be, water and cleansing are forces that cannot be underestimated for their healing potential. How many of us feel better after a shower? This basic hygiene practice is part of many a self-care checklist.

Cleansing, purification, hygiene, self-care: whatever we call it, we seek its regenerating effects and symbolism of the fresh start. It can be the demarcation we feel we need in order to move forward with our lives.

This part of the autopsy process reminds us that cleansing, new life, and positive change can come, even from death and the gruesome things that are associated with that death.

We deserve to be clean, to be purified. We deserve the new beginning.

Autopsy: It’s placed in an organized, proper place.

Hey, here’s a fun piece of information you probably haven’t come across in your life.

You know what those filing cabinets, within the morgues are called? Mortuary Cabinet Lockers.

Why am I mentioning this?

Because, as I’ve been delving into this autopsy topic, of course, a major element of this procedure is dealing with the dead bodies in an orderly, safe, healthy, and hygienic way. We’ve watched many crime shows and movies in which a dead body is placed in the metal filing cabinet, the official mortuary cabinet locker.

Autopsies require that along with the assessment, the dead decree, the mess, the gruesomeness, the cleansing, and the detail- focused process of it all, there also needs to be a level of organization and order.

Something needs to be done with the corpse. It needs to be “filed away,” via the mortuary cabinet locker.

When you and I deal with the painful issue or obstacle that has been contaminating our lives, there will come a time in which we have a need to place its reality and any accompanying insights and healings, in a certain way. Placement, integration, and organization of this dead body needs to be dealt with in a proper, appropriate, and functional way.

It can become a part of our lives, but with the mandate that it no longer destabilize and harm our lives.

That takes the personal, unique choice, for each of us as individuals. What does reconciliation and “filing away” look like? It should be more than just something we can live with, but also something that heals, restores, gives us peace, and a sense of life affirmation.

What will we put away forever in the vault?

What remains an active, daily part of our lives?

What is catalogued with special toe tags that designate something, in particular, that we continue to work on?

These are all the questions for us to probe, hopefully with professional therapy, and arrive at empowering answers, over time. These answers cannot be rushed or forced. They must unfold. Unfolding is a part of the filing process.

Autopsy: The Point:

Autopsies make decrees. They can answer questions. They can sometimes provide a sense of, if not closure or peace, then, at least, a kind of certainty. The decree of death, loss, and finality. The decree of things gone wrong. The decree of some measure of “the point.”

The autopsy is not a perfect, fairytale ending, but it can be an antidote to the regrets and the “Coulda-Shoulda-Woulda” mentality. It can, through its alchemy, create an opportunity for better versions of ourselves. It’s the work, possessing dignity and healing. The work of addressing the death, and the hopeful potential that loss can bring life.  If we can consider facing it.

If we can consider the autopsy.

Copyright © 2022 by Sheryle Cruse