Self-destruction

Several years back my little brother gave me a book on the art of doing nothing. In the card he wrote along with it, he said something along the lines of how I'm the most responsible, in-control person he knows, but that I should let myself just let go sometimes. 

I've been seeing a therapist. I didn't ever believe in it before (probably thought I could control my mental and emotional state by myself) but I think it's helping me dig deep into feelings, behaviors and memories that I buried. One of the things that's been interesting to learn is how much our parents and relationships in our seminal years - i.e. childhood and adolescence - affect our relationships, mental & emotional health, behaviors and predispositions as adults. It's baggage we carry for the rest of our lives. I guess it's not surprising, but I think the degree to which it affects us on a subconscious and unconscious level is fairly surprising to me.

And frankly, a little bit frightening. Because by and large, I had a pretty fucked up childhood and adolescence. My parents pretty much sucked although to be fair, they had their moments of good intentions (most of which quickly got swallowed by their selfishness, dishonesty, secrets and utter lack of parenting ability). My seminal years were the unhappiest in my life. Except for two saving graces - my grandmother, who taught me what unconditional love is, and my brother, who was there through it all and is the only other person in the world who knows exactly what it felt like to grow up as us. I can say with a fair amount of certainty that without both of them, I would have self-destructed a long time ago.

While ultimately I like to think that I fared ok, the fact is that when you look under the surface, I am not ok. Part of what I'm trying to do in therapy is figure out how I really feel about stuff, to let myself go. I'm tightly wound and my true emotions are buried deep deep inside - there's no way I can reach that shit by myself. And even with the help of a therapist, I'm afraid of what lies beneath.

One of the things my therapist and I talked about recently is intimacy avoidance. I didn't really understand what she meant when she first brought it up, and I immediately got a little defensive. After all, I don't think I avoid intimacy. But when she started explaining what it is (it has nothing to do with physical intimacy, but emotional intimacy - how close you let people get to you, whether you truly let people in), and as I asked myself the honest question (because what the hell is the point of all that expensive therapy if you aren't actually honest with yourself), I realized that in fact, I am an intimacy avoider. 

And that was kind of revelationary to me. I have close friends and a husband with whom I share varying levels of intimacy. I love to talk about my feelings. I'm not afraid to be vulnerable. But the truth is, there is a limit to how close I let people get. I only like to talk about the feelings I'm comfortable talking about. I only like to be slightly vulnerable - as long as I can stay in control. And I realized that my need to be in control - of my life, my emotions, my vulnerability - has led to intimacy avoidance. I can even identify the exact cause - parental inversion - where a child takes on the role/responsibility of a parent during his childhood. Apparently this has lasting detrimental effects on emotional health and behavior as an adult. 

I used to think of self-destruction as overtly destructive acts - binge drinking, drugs, dangerous and reckless behavior. But I can't help wonder whether being overly controlled is a slow (and boring) way to self-destruct as well. 

"Be kind. Everyone is going through a battle you know nothing about." I've seen this sign around recently and I think it's so apt. Everyone is going through their own shit.