Mothra

I don't really have much advice on deFOOing since I'm a relative newbie myself. But I just wanted to say how sorry I am about how you grew up. Your parents should have been the ones to protect you from such horrors. You sound pretty sure of how your parents would react. Do you feel like you still need the closure of a reaction from them to a letter or a confrontation? If you're at all afraid for your safety I would advise you to not confront them in person.

I had a similar reaction to listening to this podcast. I was also a child of divorce and previously thought the entire institution was stupid and dangerous. I had listened to several other podcasts on marriage, but this one was the first that actually convinced me of its merits. Stef did a great job laying out the connection between a stable two-parent household and a society of people without traumatic childhoods.

Hmm... that's a good question. I have an immediate negative visceral response to it, but I'm not sure I know how to label the feelings that arise from it. Shame I think... Definitely not liking the fact that I would be dependent on them. It would be like they won... they would be able to feel like they were good and I was bad. The good rescuers come in and save the day for the bad screw-up. But they're not really good, they're fake people. And I would be hating the fact that I would have to bite my tongue and not recognize the fact that they're fake. I would feel the need to play along with their little game and give them what they needed, which is to feel like they are good for rescuing me. I feel like on some deep level that they're not even conscious of, they would love for me to fuck up again so they could rush in and save me and then pat themselves on the back for it. Because then that event would take center stage and every other instance of where they were fake, shallow, condescending or invalidating would fade into the background. I should probably mention that I did fuck up pretty bad after a long spell of trying to be perfect. I went off the deep end with depression, self harm, alcoholism, and drug addiction. So these are all familiar feelings to me. Coincidentally, this is kind of what I am feeling now in a different way. I'm in the middle of a relationship which I am not sure is going to work out. We live together, and if we were to break up I would probably need to stay with my mom for a bit until I was able to find a place of my own I could afford. One of the factors keeping me in the relationship is the fear of doing just that. I hate that I still need her to some degree. I've heard the word "reparent" in several podcasts. What exactly do you mean by that?

This makes sense to me. I've been trying to think about what I am actually afraid of. What would it actually mean if others thought I was imperfect? What would it mean if I actually was imperfect? Maybe I've built my sense of self around being perfect. I've been thinking about this a lot the past couple days but have mostly been drawing a blank. I don't know if this makes any sense, but I seem to have swung pretty far in the other direction. About 10 years ago I went back to school and worked really hard and was quite successful. People would say "oh you're so smart" and I would say, "no, I just spent a ton of time studying." I now abhor people who get things without working hard for them, and almost take personal offense at this. In fact, I tend to be quite judgmental. I have a hard time watching movies or listening to music that obviously took no thought to create because I just end up getting mad.

I think when I shut down I am trying to protect the image I have about myself. If anything punctures that, I get very anxious. It's almost like I need to be special and perfect, and anything that gets through that makes me freak out. It's perplexing and frustrating to me because I want to connect with other people, but this notion of me being different or special gets in the way of that. I definitely do not like this about myself. It makes me mad because I think not being able to "take it" makes me weak. I'm also mad because I feel like it's blocking my ability to think however objectively one can about themselves. I'm trying to think of why a part of me thinks it's so important to be special and perfect. I don't remember a lot of my childhood in terms of actually interacting with my parents. I was one of those overscheduled and managed kids, so most of what I remember is at school or different activities. I don't remember any particular point or explicit conversation in my family where I felt that I must be a certain way to make them love me. To me, it was just normal to be carted around to a different thing every day of the week. I think my parents fed into my ego by telling me I was special, smart, and talented, and then lived vicariously through my achievements. I've been trying to think a lot about how my childhood has shaped me, but it's difficult because I don't remember so much. What would be some things to try and focus on? I know they are different, but how do you technically define each one? For example, at work I have to call people and leave messages sometimes. This one lady called me back and left a message telling me that my message was "incomprehensible," which stung pretty hard. But sometimes I do stumble over my words, so I may have been just that. But having someone explicitly point that out to me is anxiety-producing. For a more personal example, my boyfriend has told me on occasion that I come off as too sensitive (in general). It feels like he is pointing out a weakness, which makes me terribly uncomfortable. When I think of insults, I think of stuff like bitch, crazy, ugly, etc. intended just to hurt someone. Criticisms seem more tempered and rooted in reality. What do you think?

My first thought is how ubiquitous the anti-cholesterol propaganda has become, since cholesterol is a precursor to all sex hormones. I'm sure there are other reasons as well though.

Does anyone have any advice for overcoming hypersensitivity to criticism? I tend to shut down or almost dissociate when criticized (even, or especially when those are valid criticisms). I am also very introspective, but worry there are things I don't recognize about myself. I would like to know how others perceive me, but am scared of being criticized so I don't often seek others opinions about me. How do I get past this so I can get a more objective view of myself?

I didn't see any other women respond so I thought I'd throw this out there. I'm also uncomfortable with rough sex. The idea of violence, sexual or otherwise, makes me uneasy to say the least. I don't have any problem with aggressive or athletic sex, such as throwing a person around on a bed, yanking legs in a particular direction, or pinning someone's arms down. But I think there is a line that gets crossed once you start slapping, spanking, or choking. As long as this occurs between consenting adults, I see no moral problems with it, but I can't help but think this isn't the healthiest approach to sex. I'm frankly surprised by the other posts saying that they have experiences with a fair amount of women who were into this sort of thing. Of course I was also surprised to learn just how common parental abuse was, so maybe I just have no perspective on what "normal" is. I would be interested to know the histories of both men and women who either enjoy rough sex (giving or receiving) or do not. The evolutionary theory seems logical enough, but I suspect there's more to the story.

I have experienced addiction. Not to the extreme you speak of, but I battled some pretty hard drugs for a while. I was lucky in that I got pregnant fairly soon after going down that road and was able to steer myself off that path. I was always a terribly shy person. I was always extremely conscious of how I presented myself, what I said, etc for fear of being criticized or made fun of. The first time I ever got drunk I felt so liberated. All of those self-erected barriers came down and I could be myself. The first time I tried cocaine, it was the same thing but even more intense. I remember talking for hours and stuff just came pouring out. No filters at all. And not only was I not laughed at, but I was even liked. It was an awesome feeling. When I did crack it was very different. It wasn't about releasing inhibitions, but releasing reality. For a few minutes the world and my head would disappear. I still have a lot of work ahead of me in terms of self knowledge, but I'm at a place now where I don't have nearly as many barriers. I have people in my life that I can be myself around. I never went the 12 step route because it's bullshit. I have occasionally had a few drinks, but have noticed that it's not as fun as it used to be. I would just end up getting tired and falling asleep. I suspect it's because I'm already uninhibited so there's nothing for the alcohol to do. I now don't even bother with alcohol. I haven't touched cocaine in 12 years and have no desire to. I would be curious about your experience. I've heard other people say that morphine is like love or a warm hug. What do you think drove you to that particular drug?

I'm pretty sure I am weird, but that's okay. I suppose when I think of the word "ritual" I tend to think more of the institutionalized ceremonial types of rituals. The little ones that you create yourself don't really bother me. Stuff like your morning ritual or a journaling ritual I can see a purpose to it. These are rituals that you have created based on your own needs. Not a list of things to do that someone else has laid out. I have my own little rituals. I have a job where I drive around a lot and talk to people, but I'm an extreme introvert so I need to take time every day to find some secluded area and have lunch and chill away from stimulation. Often these types of rituals have a clear purpose, probably because they are created by the person performing them. Although, even these can become problematic, like in people with OCD. I think the main problem I have is that these more institutionalized rituals or ceremonies come off so impersonal. They're not about the individual, they're about society. When I think of weddings, baby showers, and even birthdays... I can't really find the purpose for them besides trying to create some type of social cohesion, which I know is important evolutionarily, but a lot of society these days I find pretty repulsive. These sorts of rituals seem to be about reinforcing fake relationships. Maybe that's because I've never really connected with people so to me, pretty much all relationships seem fake. I personally hate receiving gifts from people at birthdays or Christmas because they are always horrible or impersonal gifts that I would never want, and it just reiterates the fact that these people don't know me at all. I guess the visceral reaction comes from having to go through this motion, knowing that it's just going to come off feeling fake and put me in a bad mood. I remember having a fight with my dad when I graduated high school because I didn't want to go to graduation. He had dropped out, so it was important to him. But to me, I just didn't see the purpose. I already knew that I had finished all of my coursework. I didn't need to wear some funny outfit and walk across a stage and get a piece of paper to feel like it was completed. Same thing with marriage. To me, the relationship is the important part. Going through the ritual of a wedding just feels unnecessary. Birthdays are a little different because it's less of a formal thing. If your friends and family really care about you, every day you spend with them should feel special. Maybe it is all in the terminology. I guess you could call one thing a ritual and the other a ritualized ceremony.

I recently started watching Spartacus on Netflix. A good bit of it I end up watching with my eyes closed or hands over my face, because I really don't like watching gory violence. It seems like the producers have some kind of blood fetish. But I like the story. The Romans are all extremely evil and corrupt people who get their kicks by exerting their will on "common slaves." After listening to Stef's reading of The Origins of War in Child Abuse, I find myself wondering about how these characters may have been raised to make them into such monsters. Empathy and love seems only to occur between slaves, since the Romans are apparently only able to love themselves or power. Overall, it's a good show. And there is a plethora of full frontal nudity, both female and male.

I have a visceral negative reaction to the concept of rituals - birthdays, anniversaries, graduations, weddings, funerals, and all the assorted religious nonsense. All of them really rub me the wrong way. I think it's because of the lack of originality and they inevitably end up feeling fake. Sure, people may tweak a thing here or there, but rituals follow a template that has been laid out by someone else. It's like we allow people just enough freedom to change details, but people will look at you like you're crazy if you decide to change the basic template, or heaven forbid, forgo it all together.

Me too! I'm only about an hour from you over in Athens. They actually had an atheist group at UGA for a while, but it was full of statists!

Fellow Georgian here... nice to know there's another one of us not too far away!

Thanks for your input. I guess I'm just confused. On the one hand, I feel I am right in claiming that he is responsible for this lack of connection. I feel like I am ready and willing, if not downright eager, to discuss anything. But when I think of that, it makes me feel uneasy. Like, I don't want to be right. And then I start thinking that I should entertain ideas of why it could be MY fault. Like maybe because I never connected with my parents that I shouldn't go around judging connection because I may just be unable to connect. And then I think that's stupid. I've definitely connected with my daughter and a handful of other people on a handful of occasions. I just end up going back and forth and feel kind of insane. Now that I think about it, I guess I do this a lot. I'll feel something that makes me want to leave the relationship, but then another set of emotions comes up that makes me feel like I want to stay. This push-pull aspect makes me feel paralyzed and trapped. I would like to better understand the forces pushing me away and pulling me towards him. There are many things I love about him, but the way he generally approaches life greatly concerns me. He has an extremely low tolerance for stress and handles it by becoming distant, often playing video games for hours at a time. Which generally means he gets behind on whatever he has to do, exacerbating the problem. He's not well organized or good at planning things. I feel burdened by having to handle everything for the both of us. I also have to take care of my daughter, so my time and energy is limited. I am not sure if these are surmountable problems or not. Reading the thread on procrastination was helpful to me in understanding certain things about him, and we discussed it to a degree. I have a strong desire to be a good girlfriend and stick by him and try to help him with these issues. But at the same time, I find the relationship very draining. I am wondering if I am just afraid of being alone again. Maybe the reason I keep wavering is because deep down I know the truth, but don't like it, and am afraid of having to follow through with it and leave. I also feel silly about posting all these relationship issues on here and feel embarrassed that I haven't been able to figure this out on my own. The very fact that I am asking strangers for advice instead of being able to talk to him directly and honestly doesn't seem to bode well. I'm starting therapy next week so hopefully that will bring some clarity.

I was obese for about 6 years after giving up other addictions and then turning to food for comfort. Eventually my life turned less stressful and I was able to get back on the wagon and drop the weight. I feel compassion for overweight/obese people because I've been there. I went with my daughter on a carousel-ride at one point, and they actually required seat belts. I was too big and they had to go get an extension. It was totally humiliating. As it should be! The world shouldn't have to conform to pathological standards. The tragic thing is that these women didn't become this way by being psychologically healthy (aside from the rare hormonal conditions). They are ignoring whatever has caused them to need the coping mechanism of overeating and are just accepting the negative consequences that result from it. That's akin to a group of alcoholics getting together and raving on about cirrhotic liver pride, or cigarette smokers with lung cancer pride. It's absurd! I would put forth that there is some merit to looking into how the U.S. dietary guidelines, farm subsidies, etc. have contributed to the carb-heavy crap diet that most people eat. Tom Naughton has a blog and a movie which talks about how government intervention into nutrition/obesity has done a lot more to create the problem rather than solve it. www.fathead-movie.com

I've been struggling with my boyfriend for some time now with feeling connected. We had a conversation today about childhood abuse. He was physically abused, yelled at, insulted, and severely neglected by both of his parents. My BF is also bisexual and an atheist, yet his dad is a Christian homophobe and knows neither of those things about my him. Yet he says he feels connected to his parents and loves them and knows that they love him in their own way, and that they did the best they could. I, on the other hand, experienced something much more subtle growing up. And I feel absolutely no connection with my parents. We are trying to explore how this could be. I was spanked maybe a couple of times, yelled at much more. But most of what I got growing up was hardly detectable. In fact, I thought I had a pretty normal childhood until I started really thinking about it. My life has been one fucked-up thing after another, with severe depression, self harm, and addiction (of several varieties). And I'm just beginning to see how my childhood contributed to that. I used to think there must have been something wrong with me. Looking back, I didn't connect with either of my parents and I don't feel that either of them took the time to get to know me or really show me who they were either. I am of the belief that in order to love someone, you have to actually know them. And I don't feel either known or loved by anyone in my entire family. All they talk about is superficial stuff. I think I had some of the "me plus" syndrome, where it was me plus my good grades and musical talent. I have expressed this to my BF and he seems to think I am perhaps too sensitive, as he has met my parents and doesn't think they're that far off the deep end. He also thinks that my standards for people are too high. I have also expressed to my boyfriend that a lot of times in the relationship I don't feel connected to him. and wish to have more personal, meaningful conversations. He says he feels connected to me, but he doesn't like to talk about his past. Which I can understand to a degree because a lot of what he has told about it is pretty horrible. I find this very difficult. On the one hand, I don't want to minimize the horror of what he went through. But I don't know how to get him to see that I went through was shitty in its own way. He says he has dealt with the things that happened to him and forgiven his parents because he understands them. He wonders why I cannot forgive my parents. I DO have the capacity to forgive. I forgave an ex for treating me pretty crappy during our relationship, I think because I understand why he did the things he did. We were both addicted to drugs during that relationship. Maybe the act of understanding someone allows you to forgive them? Is it because I don't understand my parents why I can't forgive them and connect with them? Or is he just in denial?

Not sure, but I have some thoughts. For one thing, I was extremely emotional at the time I had this dream. I had been ruminating and probably crying about my relationship for a couple of days before this. I think it may also have been a Friday or Saturday night, where I was allowed to wake up naturally the next morning. This was the dream I had just before I woke up. I find that an alarm clock or having to jump out of bed and do stuff seems to kill any memory of the dream. If I lay in bed for a while and just reflect on the dream, and then write it down right away I can remember them better. But that's hard to do on a week day.

Here is an example I thought I'd share. This dream occurred about a month ago after a day of being emotional and frustrated with my relationship. It's the last one I remembered a good amount of detail about. I apologize if the sexual content is not appropriate. My dream character keeps switching back between someone named Ida and myself. It is a zombie apocalypse. At night strange hybrid or mutated creatures run around. I am aware that they are viscious creatures and am afraid of them. One of them is some sort of cheetah with a superlong black tail that is very snake-like. Probably at least 15 feet long. I have a boyfriend in the compound where I am living. I sleep outside on a cot with a bunch of people, also on cots near a large grassy area. I have the impression that most of the zombie apocalypse has been contained/dealt with and we are just living in a “reconstruction” type situation. I am getting ready to sleep in the early night and I see one of the cheetahs run by in the distance and the tail slithers behind it. At this point in the dream I have a boyfriend, so I’m guessing I am the character, Ida. There’s a group of people who freeze like statues during the night. My boyfriend is one of them. I am mad at him. Him and two other men were being assholes. A group of children were playing with 3 or 4 colored balloons, batting them back and forth. The men take the balloons and proceed to play volleyball with them, using barbed wire as a net. Some of them pop. The barbed wire runs across the grassy area behind the compound. It this point, he is no longer my boyfriend, but Ida’s. I am furious at him about the balloon thing, and possibly some other reason. I get the impression there is a history between us being some kind of enemies. I start trying to punch him. He just laughs at me. I keep punching him in the arm and torso and face, but it doesn’t have any affect. I am too weak. He continues to laugh at me and taunt me. I keep trying. Somehow the position we are in has his head beneath my waist and he starts performing oral sex on me. Immediately I stop punching him, enjoying it. We eventually start having sex. He is getting close to orgasm. He tells me “you know if I get you pregnant the baby will be a zombie.” I understand that this means it will kill me from the inside out. He says he is almost there. I tell him to pull out. He says he needs one more push. I say to do it. He thrusts in one more time then pulls out. I get the feeling that he at least partially came inside me. He then freezes with his pants unbuttoned, along with the other frozen ones. I walk along the courtyard and see dozens of statue-like people, all frozen. Ida comes walking along and sees the boyfriend, frozen. She comes up to him, hugs him. Eventually she notices his pants are unbuttoned. She realizes he cheated on her with somebody. I think she suspects it was me. She is mad and also doesn’t understand why enemies would have sex with one another. The next scene is me and Ida’s boyfriend inside a building talking about Ida’s birthday. He has gotten her a book – at least an inch thick – and has had everybody in the compound sign it. He wants me sign it for her. He shows me where he has left little notes for her along the margins of one of the chapters. He says “you can have the next chapter,” wanting me to do the same thing. I don’t know what to say. I feel guilty that I’ve slept with this woman’s boyfriend. I feel confused as to why he would want me to sign a book for her, knowing that I must feel awkward about the situation. I take the book and the pen to write something anyway and then wake up.

Not really. Obviously some situations require a filter, but in real life I always feel like me. I often get frustrated that I can't be all of me all the time, or at least more of me more of the time. But in the dream it's like I am suddenly someone else completely (although I have memory of the person I previously was), and no one else sees it. Or I get zoomed out of the character I currently am to be the spectator and no one notices. The character goes on doing whatever they're doing as if I were possessing them. It feels very different from the slight variations one makes in their behavior throughout the day to conform to the appropriateness of the situation. Perhaps I'm being to literal. I don't know. It's confusing. I didn't realize it was happening until I started writing down the dreams and trying to keep up with the crazy plots.

Great ideas! But scary. Mostly... why does my own daughter like these shows? I think we're close. I certainly don't hit her or yell at her. It gives me a lot to think about.

I recently started writing down dreams and trying to analyze them as best I can. One theme I've noticed so far is my dream identity is very fluid. Sometimes it's as if I am the main character in the dream - things are happening to me and I am making decisions about what to do. And then it shifts to where am a different character in the dream. And then other times I shift to a pure spectator, where I am not a character at all but am instead watching the dream like a movie. Sometimes I go back and forth between these. And still other times, the entire dream is me watching it like a movie. Does anybody else have dreams like this? Any thoughts? I'm still new to this whole dream analysis thing, but this seems important to me.

My daughter has recently gotten into a couple of TV shows made for tweens - Kickin' It and the Suite Life of Zack and Cody. Aside from the bad acting and ridiculous plots, I've noticed that the main characters hardly ever interact with their parents. Also, parents and all other adults are portrayed as borderline retarded. In the case of Kickin' It, we are supposed to buy that a man who has the self discipline to reach a black belt in karate and the business skills to have his own dojo, has the maturity of a 12 year old. I find this disturbing. Am I reading too much into this? Or is there some weird subtext going on and if so, what are they trying to say to kids? I'd love to hear others' thoughts.

My daughter took TKD for a couple of years during elementary school. I never saw any yelling or insulting, but it seemed like a giant scam playing up on this Asian philosophy and discipline thing. They mostly played dodgeball and stretched and learned their little forms. And then every couple of months they'd charge an extra 40 bucks to have "testing" which required you to sit there and watch everybody else's kid for 3 hours so they could earn their new belt. And fairly often the kids didn't even do the forms correctly, but of course still earned the belt. To me, that negated the very idea of discipline. They recited those same words at the end of class in an almost army drill-like manner. It always creeped me out. Needless to say we quit going.

I'm fairly new here and have been mostly lurking. I get inspired by so many of your stories. But I'm having trouble knowing exactly how to go about it myself. I'm not in a position right now to start therapy, so I've basically just been winging it on my own for the past month or so - reading stuff here, listening to Stef's podcasts, journaling a little bit, thinking a lot. But I feel like a big mess of emotions and thoughts and I don't know if it's really helping or making me feel crazy. I'm not sure what parts I should be focusing on to begin with. What is the difference between digging up your past and actually processing it? Is there more to it than simply remembering things and accepting them? How did you all begin your journies? What are your thoughts on timing? If there is financial, logistical stress going on in ones life should you wait until that clears to undertake self knowledge? I tend to think the sooner the better, but I am also concerned that different stressors may combine, making it difficult to sort out what is what.