Saturday 1 September 2012

Scared

I've always been scared .. or maybe change 'scared' for 'terrified'.

From as far back as I can remember, that awful grinding and gnawing feeling deep in the pit of my stomach.

It's diminished slightly over the past few years but it's been replaced with other negative emotions, no matter what I read or how hard I try, I can't get past it.

The message I got from way back, was fear is a weakness, don't show it, don't cry, crying was done in secret.  I never saw anyone comforted for crying, only my brother when he was small, everyone else did it behind closed doors if they did it at all.

By everyone I mean my mother and dad, my dad I was to find out was the one who actually had emotions but I didn't see it till it was too late.  I never gave or received any hugs or comfort as a child, that I can remember anyway.

My worst times, before I started school, were at night.  Laying in my bed, totally scared to move thinking there was someone under there, and if I counted to 20 and they'd not shown themselves, it meant I was safe.  I'd get to 20, and then think they're tricking me, so I'll count to another 20 and so it went on till I slept from exhaustion.

I also thought someone was climbing up a ladder to the window, so if a car went by I knew I was safe for a little while, as they would have seen them wouldn't they?  Wouldn't they?  After a few minutes I'd think this unseen person would try again.

I was virtually scared to move and scared to tell anyone my thoughts, scared of being laughed at, so that little girl laying terrified in her bed never was comforted.

Then school .. the worst of times.  Every day, every night, terrified.  I hated school with a passion, I never had friends, never was included in groups, always on the outside and bullied as a consequence.  We moved homes a lot, which meant lots of new schools, each worse than the last.

Every day at home time, I'd be so relieved, but two minutes later the fear would come back as the thought of the next day hit me.

At home I pretended I was tough, I bullied other smaller children.  I remember my dad being really angry about that and giving me a swift clip round the ear and being proud when I stood defiant and not crying, saying to my mother, 'look, she's not crying', like it was an achievement.

I spent many hours alone, crying, lonely, sad and then toughing it out in public.

I was alternatively needy and aggressive, not knowing how to behave socially.  The fear an ever present monster.

My dad was always working to keep us fed, clothed and with a roof over our heads, but my mother and brother, they really did a job on me, I felt I was adopted.  Always lonely, even where you're supposed to feel loved, with your family, I had fear at school, at work, socially, and at home.

I wanted to be loved and hugged, I wanted babies, I knew everything would be ok then, I would love them so much, I would give them what I never had, but I can see now I was too damaged to be a good parent.  I'm very proud of how they've turned out but it's no thanks to me.

I'm still needy and aggressive in turn, even with them, as I just don't function well as a person.

The other night in bed I thought of that little girl, the terrified one waiting for a hug, and I went to her in my thoughts, and hugged her and comforted her, like they tell you in the self help books, to love your inner child, so I did.

I know now I'm not a likable or lovable person, I'm scratchy, picky, aggressive, angry, needy, self pitying, not loving, generous, giving or welcoming.  I know how I'd like to be  but inside it's not there.

After spending my life acting it's hard to know who I really am or what I am.

Add confused to scared and we're somewhere near.




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