Posted 12/9/2020 11:33 AM (GMT -7)
So, you say you were raised in a negative environment. I was too.
You said, “I mean things that have happened to me make me more scare of the same situations again.”
I’ve never experienced that, so I don’t know anything about it. Are you able to deal with that, or is that the main problem?
The reason I mentioned your sensitivity and femininity is that it sounds like when you get attacked, you want to hurt yourself. When guys get attacked, they want to strike out, and get angry, which is equally bad I would think.
As a fem, when you get attacked, you want to hurt yourself. But you didn’t do anything. Are you thinking it’s your fault?
As mentioned earlier here:
1. Sometimes fear is a warning. It’s like someone putting a hand on your shoulder and saying Go No Farther.
(From: Anne Rice, Memnoch the Devil)
2. Fear doesn’t shut you down; it wakes you up.
– Veronica Roth, Divergent
3. At the end of the day, you’re entitled to every one of your feelings. Don’t allow anyone to belittle you for your sensitivity. Vulnerability does not make us weak; it makes us human.
— Melissa Kerman, To Anyone Who’s Afraid Of Being Vulnerable
So I think it’s quite natural to, “Once burned, twice cautious.” It’s human nature to run as fast away from harm as possible.
So, I don’t know about that part. Maybe you have some ideas.
As for my own experiences, some of them were good and some of them were bad. Some of the good ones helped me get through.
One of the good ones was, I was at an Al-Anon meeting, for friends or relatives of alcoholics. It was a small group. When it came my turn to speak, I listed my troubles in a sorrowful voice.
The woman next to be listened patiently and when I was finally finished, looked up at me and said, “Oh, you were having a Pity Party, we’ve all done that.” There is embarrassed, and then there is embarrassed to tears in front of a group.
It was embarrassing but it was true, and the woman was looking right at me. It was a strange combination of messages from her and emotions inside me.
I could tell she was trying to help, she was a female and her eyes and tone of voice conveyed sincerely wanting to help, and her words carried two messages: “You were feeling sorry for yourself” but she also said, “We’ve all done that” as in welcome to the human race.
Since she was a female, I let her meaning seep into my psychic, get past my guard. I didn’t disagree with her. I let it sink it.
Years of my mother, who was sexually abused, tying to keep me beneath her by encouraging me to be weak and feel sorry for myself, were washed away in two sentences in about two seconds.
My mother was bad luck, and she had some of her own, and this woman was good luck. After that, I never felt sorry for myself again. For every time I tried, I saw that woman’s face, and I heard her voice, and it didn’t work. My Pity Party couldn’t get started.