Hi Ziggiddy,
I have also been doing a lot of reflection on my childhood and how my uBPDm and uNPDd and dBPDsister affected my self-esteem, self-confidence, self-worth, and even my identity as a person. I've also been identifying lessons that I learned that were damaging to me, as well as crucial lessons I should have been taught, that I wasn't, which has left me a bit exposed and crippled in the adult-relations world.
To speak to your adolescence, I remember in 2nd Grade, being picked on unmercifully by a girl in my class. I would come home crying every day, saying I didn't want to go back to school. My parents kept telling me to just ignore her, and that eventually she would stop. I tried, but for months, she didn't stop. Because I was being told to endure it and do nothing, I was rendered helpless and a victim. Finally, I convinced my father to do something -- he called her father. But I remember standing there while he talked to him, and I felt SO ashamed that my dad had to do that, because I couldn't keep enduring her abuse. So not only was I taught that "good girls allow others to abuse them and just endure it quietly," I also didn't learn any kind of lesson about setting boundaries, confronting bullies, standing up for myself, etc. I learned that I'm a victim, that I am powerless to get people to treat me with respect, and I should feel ashamed for being abused and for not being able to just take it... . At 8 years old. Yuck.
Then in 3rd Grade, a boy 3 years older than me who lived down the street, would taunt and harass me every day walking home from the bus stop. I'd cross the street to get away from him but he'd follow me. I'd ignore him, pretend he wasn't there, grit my teeth and say nothing. This went on for months. And one day, I had had enough. I wheeled around, and clocked him square in the face with my metal Snoopy lunchbox. I got in a bit of trouble for that, because I apparently messed up his face a bit. But he never said a word to me again, and this time I didn't feel ashamed. But... . Nice lesson. Stay passive, endure the abuse, and when you can no longer take it, explode inappropriately.
As an adult, these 2 lessons got converted into: When being abused, stay passive, endure the abuse, and if it eventually goes WAY too far, then explode. But if you really can't or shouldn't explode, then play the victim and find someone else to "save" you, and make it their responsibility to stand up to the person for you. Yep. This methodology went on for a good quarter of a century after I first learned it. I'm sure you can imagine how well it's worked for me.
At any rate, while I find it helpful to retrace these things to uncover the unconscious messages I internalized as a kid, and some of the lessons I wasn't taught, or bad lessons I was taught -- so I can then undo, or finally learn, or heal the things necessary to move forward as a healthy adult... . What I've also come to learn in my journey, is that some things aren't worth spending too much time looking back on or analyzing. Some memories are just an exercise in reliving pain with very little of value to gain from them.
Whether or not what you went through as an adolescent was due to crummy classmates, racial characteristics, your own distortions, screwed up parents, or maybe even a 5th option we're not thinking of -- I'm not sure how that information helps you going forward? Either way, the outcome is the same: It happened. And you can't go back and change it.
I think the questions I might be asking are, ":)o I have people like that in my life now? Do I tolerate similar behavior from others now? If these things happened to me today, how would I react? What lessons did I learn from those experiences and are those lessons serving me in a positive way now? What do I consider to be normal versus abusive behavior now? If I DID suffer from poor parenting, have I readjusted to something more healthy since then? If not, what do I need to do to fix that?"
From a book I really enjoy: "I will not get so bogged down in dealing with old wounds that I forget about new growth... . Look back, but don't stare."
