Hardwired Cruelty

" I have been my own disciple and my own master.  And I have been a good disciple but a bad master. " ~Antonio Porchia, Voces, 1943, translated from Spanish by W.S. Merwin

People in my life tend to think I'm really too demanding of myself.  I'm baffled.  Last week, my therapist reminded me that I seem to expect perfection from myself, but I'm willing to cut everyone else an immense amount of slack.  Why, she asked.  The answer is that I know what I'm capable of, but since I don't live in anyone else's mind or body, I have to assume they're doing the best they can at any given moment.  Me, too.  Sometimes the best we can do isn't very good at all.  Even while I recognize that, I can find it hard to let go of my own disappointing behavior or less than perfectly compassionate thoughts.

My therapist responded that she thinks I'm cruel to myself.  She thinks I'm carrying on my father's legacy.  The only difference is that I'm cruel just to ggirl, but not to others.  I have to admit that the word "cruel" got my attention.  That was her intention.  She asked me if I know why I'm this way.  

Of course I know why.  When I was growing up, there was a tremendous amount of my parents' behavior that I was required to overlook, try to understand or just embrace as parts of their personalities.  My father was indeed sadistic.  Both of my parents were/are narcissistic, although in different ways.  There was an enormous amount of violence and abuse.  My father moved in a girl who was only a couple of years younger than I to have a sexual relationship with.  That went on for about 7 years.  (If you're interested, see early posts in which I was trying to figure out how I arrived at this point in my life.)  

 My mom says that I've always been an adult.  My dad made the same comment to me shortly before he killed himself.  They don't/didn't realize how demanding they were.  Furthermore, somebody had to be the adult. I thought I was up for the job, so I took it on.  I was also making a great effort to extract myself from the life they chose.  When one is a child and attempting to raise herself (or himself), the child doesn't understand moderation. 

I always ruthlessly monitored my own behavior/thought patterns. Justice was speedy and harsh.  When I met the beloved teacher who saved me from suicide and gave me the gift of learning how life could be, she seemed to be demanding, too.  She believed I wasn't living up to my potential.  Not because I was a slacker, but because I thought I was stupid and unworthy of anything good.  That just added fuel to the fire.

I never learned to lighten up on myself.  My therapist commented that it must feel like it's hardwired in my brain.  Yes, yes!  That's exactly how it feels.  In fact, I don't believe I'm too hard on myself (usually).  It's not something I even question anymore.  Nor do I question my need to extend ultimate compassion towards others (or however much I can muster on a daily basis).  It's hard to change assumptions that have gotten buried in the brain.  It's like saying "bless you" when someone sneezes.  You don't think about it; you just say it.

My ongoing issues with Hubby arise from that fertile home ground.  I treat him like my father.  I treat everyone like my father.  Of course, no one treats me as badly as my father.  Except me, apparently.

America held hostage day 1624

Bushism of the day:

For example, how benefits are calculate, for example, is on the table; whether or not benefits rise based upon wage increases or price increases. There's a series of parts of the formula that are being considered. And when you couple that, those different cost drivers, affecting those — changing those with personal accounts, the idea is to get what has been promised more likely to be — or closer delivered to what has been promised. Does that make any sense to you? It's kind of muddled." --explaining his plan to save Social Security, Tampa, Fla., Feb. 4, 2005