Part 3 of 4

Many people are familiar with the idea of sibling dynamics such as “golden child” and “scapegoat.” As the only child in a house with two or more damaged and wounded adults, I was often called upon to play both roles simultaneously. When the insecure needed a boost, or to keep up appearances, I was told that I was smart, talented, and free to accomplish huge amounts of magic. When the insecure needed a larger boost, and someone to take responsibility for difficult and painful emotions, I was there to be scolded, punished, humiliated, judged, and insulted. 

Over time this combination created a very strange identity for me. My mind believed I was better than everyone else, but my behaviors showed that I didn’t value myself at all. I thought others perceived me as awesome and fun but I had no idea how to take care of my own health or safety. I had somehow started to believe in the fake version of myself with very little connection to my real self or others. This alter ego had been born to survive my childhood.  She reflected my wounded parents back to themselves with shiny light to blind them from their own issues. She continued to exist because my extensive amount of unhealed damage and insecurity had created narcissistic tendencies of grandiosity and lack of empathy. Those characteristics had developed in the same ways for my parents in a cycle that stretched backwards infinitely.

This fake shell of a girl created by damage trotted out into the adult world. By all appearances I was young, pretty, thin, and adventurous. I thought I was ugly, lonely, fat, and boring. I chose abusive partners, became addicted to alcohol and tobacco, shopped impulsively, drove drunk, and had unprotected sex in promiscuous amounts.

I had what felt like confidence. I used it to make terrible decisions for myself. I thought I had good self-esteem yet I expertly put myself in incredibly dangerous and disgusting situations. Everything was a contradiction, and I had grown to accept and absorb the hypocritical conditioning that bent my brain enough to believe all of it. I had the appearance of a highly functioning adult with a degree, a job, friends, and a house in the right part of the right town. I could have died several times over based on my self-destructive behavior, unsafe decisions, and suicidal ideations.

I’ve mentioned before that I didn’t initially seek therapy for the core reasons that it was needed. Much of the abuse I had experienced up to this point was still normal to me. I wasn’t thinking of it as problematic or as the source of my suffering. I didn’t understand that until much later. 

At this time I’m describing, I only knew that something was wrong. I was sick, exhausted, sore, and irritable all the time. I was binge eating, I was in friendships with controlling and domineering people, and I had frequent feelings of rage. I had internalized everything that my wounded caretakers said was wrong with me and the world. I had chosen a high-stress job involving traumatic levels of emotional disturbance. 

I went to my employee assistance program. I was told I could receive 5 free sessions of counseling.