I’m Done Blaming Myself for Not Yet Having All My Shit Together

I’ve put every ounce of my heart into healing from my childhood wounds and I’m proud of how far I’ve come (Know Thyself January prompt and my response)

I was the victim of childhood emotional neglect.

I’m happy to say I’ve made great progress in my recovery.

The progress I’ve made is due to how hard I work each and every day at being the best “Art” I can be.

That being said, I continue to have a ways to go on my healing path.

My Childhood Experiences That Led to My Adult Issues

You’ve probably heard of the movie “The Invisible Man.” I grew up as the “Invisible Child.”

I spent my childhood feeling both unseen and unheard. This especially stung when I was emotionally distraught.

As I wrote in a previous article, I was relentlessly teased for many years.

I can recall the taunts echoing in my ears as if it was yesterday: “Get yay ball, get yay ball, get yay ball,” accompanied by my “friends” laughter and glee. The more upset I got, the wider the smiles upon their faces.

You see, little Arty had a speech impediment, and when I’d try to say “get the ball,” it came out of my mouth as “get yay ball.”

When my friends laughed at me, I just stood there and took it — frozen in place. Staring down at the ground, praying their taunts would stop sooner than later.

It was as if I felt I deserved the cruel words. I had no sense of self-worth.

Sadly, I couldn’t turn to my parents for comfort. Even as a little kid, I could sense that any hug I might get from my mom or dad would feel empty, as if their heart wasn’t in it. Leaving me feeling even worse about myself.

How I wish I had normal parents who I could count on being there for me when I so desperately needed to feel safe, secure, and loved.

Those weren’t the only times I felt my mom and dad had no regard for my feelings.

My parents frequently had vicious arguments. It didn’t matter in the least that I was right there in the same room with them, taking it all in.

They were oblivious to my presence and how their out-of-control words might be impacting me. It was as if I was a piece of furniture, rather than a frightened little boy.

I can recall pleading for them to stop, but never to any avail. I know they heard me. They were too wrapped up in ripping each other apart to give my feelings even the slightest thought.

The only times I recall feeling seen and heard were when I brought home my straight-A report cards. That, they were proud of.

And on my birthdays, when they took me to Coney Island Amusement Park and I got to go on the rollercoaster and a whole bunch of other rides. I felt special on those days. Unfortunately, birthdays come only once a year.

To sum it all up, my parents were totally insensitive to my emotional needs. Heck, they weren’t even aware I had any.

I grew up feeling alone and unprotected in what I perceived as a scary world.

The Conclusions I Took Away About Myself From My Childhood Experiences

Here are the first few that come to mind:

• I was weird
• I couldn’t trust anyone
• I was unlovable
• I needed to be hyper-alert at all times for the slightest hint of criticism
• It was safest to keep my feelings to myself
• I had no self-worth independent of concrete accomplishments

That’s a whole bunch of stuff to overcome.

Thanks, mom. Thanks, dad.

I say that with more than a touch of sarcasm. I suspect my parents did the best they could. No doubt they came out of their own childhood with more than their fair share of wounds.

Why It Took Me So Long To Begin My Healing Process

The best way I can answer that is:

I didn’t know it was possible to be any different than I was.

Despite feeling crappy about myself on most days, I was resigned to the status quo.

I had no clue I had the capacity to:

• become more loving of others
• become more loving of myself
• be happy on any kind of regular basis
• express my feelings in a way that I could feel both seen and heard

I thought of myself in limited ways. That self-belief system was instilled in me as a child, and I had yet to shake it.

Even when I put forth efforts to better my life situation, whether it was work-related or to improve my relationship with my wife, I got easily discouraged at the first sign of things not going as I had hoped.

I chose to play life safe, staying within a very narrow comfort zone.

I’m neither proud nor ashamed of the above words.

I’m simply being honest.

Thank God I’m Done Blaming Myself For Not Having All My Shit Together

What a load off my mind. It’s so much easier to work on my healing now that I’ve learned to be gentler with myself.

I owe it all to psychotherapy and 12-step meetings.

My psychotherapist Gerard helped me get out of the self-blame cycle — to recognize I was always doing the best I could and there were logical reasons why I struggled.

He helped me tap into the courage and strength within myself to turn around my way of viewing and living my life.

Best of all, Gerard encouraged me to attend 12-step meetings of Adult Children of Alcoholics and Dysfunctional Families (ACoA). It took a bit of convincing, but a year or so ago, I heeded his suggestion.

From attending meetings, I learned that I am an “adult child,” which is defined as:

someone who responds to adult situations with self-doubt, self-blame or a sense of being wrong or inferior — all learned from stages of childhood.

I learned that my dysfunctional adult behaviors and my critical ways of viewing myself and others were normal reactions to the abnormal situation of my being raised in a dysfunctional home.

They were survival traits — my way of protecting myself from what I perceived as a world fraught with danger. My survival traits included:

• being afraid of authority figures
• becoming an approval seeker
• being frightened by angry people and personal criticism
• living life from the viewpoint of a victim
• getting guilt feelings when I stood up for myself
• stuffing my feelings from my traumatic childhood

I’m proud to say I’m making good progress with chipping away at these traits.

I’m recognizing I don’t need them anymore — that they have outlived their usefulness.

Holy Crap — I’ve Learned To Love and Respect Myself

Who knew I was this likable guy that had lots to offer people.

These days, I’m becoming more comfortable putting my authentic self out there in the world, flaws and all.

I’m discovering the world is not the dangerous place I believed it to be for most of my life.

I’m happier than I’ve ever been before.

Not that every day is rosy — far from it. I have both good and bad ones.

There are those days when I feel like I’m Leonardo DiCaprio’s Jack Dawson on the bow of the Titanic, shouting out at the top of his lungs, “I am king of the world.”

Then there are those days when I feel anything but that — when I fall back into the victim mentality.

Those days are not fun, but I’m learning to accept them. Rather than get discouraged, I now know it’s inevitable I’ll have those “one step back” days. Progress does not happen in a straight line for anybody.

On those tough days, I do my best to investigate what’s going on under the hood with self-loving curiosity. That’s challenging to do, but I’m getting better at it with practice.

The new me has learned that:

• I don’t need to be perfect
• I’m resilient
• I’m wise
• I’m creative
• I have lots to offer other people in the way of emotional support

The last bulleted item is the character trait I’m most excited about. It’s what makes me feel most special.

I Treasure Paying Forward All I’m Learning About Myself

I cherish supporting other writers on the Medium platform. Especially those who write authentically about themselves — who are open and courageous enough to share both their struggles and successes.

You guys know who you are.

I love nothing more than making those heart-to-heart connections with you via commenting on your posts. It’s so gratifying when you convey to me that my words have helped encourage you on your personal journeys. That you feel understood and cared for by me.

Likewise, nothing feels better than when I get comments on my articles indicating my words have been inspiring. It’s pure gold.

I also cherish supporting my friends who are not on the Medium platform.

I currently mentor Asmita, a young lady who lives in India that I met a few years back on a meditation website. Every Saturday morning, we have a one-hour Zoom session when she shares with me what’s going on in her life.

Asmita recently told me how frustrated she is with her mother, who is hyperfocused on her getting married, as she is already in her early 30's.

When Asmita tells her mom she is perfectly fine with being single at this stage of her life, and that it is her decision to make, it goes in one ear and out the other.

Asmita knows that when she shares with me her exasperation with her mother, she can count on my listening to her with all my heart and supporting her in any way I possibly can — whether it be on the marriage issue, or on any challenges she is faced with.

Asmita and I have a most special connection, despite my being old enough to be her father and our living roughly 8000 miles apart.

As distant as we physically are, our hearts are joined. We love and respect each other.

My loving support makes Asmita feels special.

And I feel equally special, as Asmita so values the person I’ve grown to become.

So much for blaming myself for not yet having all my shit together.

I reckon I’m doing quite well.

I’ll close here. Thank you so much for reading. I love comments (both giving and receiving), as I elaborated on in the below article. I’d love to know how you may have related to my words.

A giant shoutout goes to Jan Sebastian, a one-of-a-kind person I am blessed to have met recently. Jan is not only very kind and wise — she is a pure inspiration, with a magnificent sense of humor to boot, as you will see from the video embedded within this article.