Hey Dear Confused:

I’m trying to make Confused less confused 🙂

You mentioned many times how you didn’t lose feelings only in the context of her in your life, but in the context of everyone and everything in your life. What I’m pointing to is that if she was life itself for you, if she- or what she represented to you- meant everything, no wonder you lost feeling for everything else.

Or.. am I confused?

🤔 Anita

Hey Dear Confused:

“If it (the depression/ annhedonia) was related only to her, I would be fine”-

But if she meant EVERYTHING to you, if you were so very invested in her (or in the idea of her) so intensely, so overwhelmingly, is it a wonder that the depression/ annhedonia spread to EVERY part of your life?

🤔 Anita

Hi Nea:

I just want to say how much I appreciate the empathy, grace, and emotional maturity in your message. You’re holding such a complicated truth with so much clarity — seeing your father’s harmful patterns while still acknowledging the love you feel. That takes strength.

When you wrote, “I find myself wondering how someone can love their family and yet behave in ways that hurt them,” it struck me deeply. I asked myself that same question for years.

For a long time, I held onto a loving image of my mother because the real version of her was too frightening to face. Over time, my understanding shifted. I realized she had moments of affection, but they were tied to my compliance — not to seeing me as a separate person with my own worth. When she sensed even small signs of independence, she became aggressive and hurtful again.

It took me a long time to understand that love mixed with harm is not the kind of love that nurtures a child. And it took even longer to let myself see that clearly.

I’ll write more soon, but I wanted to share this part with you now.

Anita

Good morning, Girija 🙂

The coworker we’ve been talking about- with his “powerful words and actions” (your words about him earlier)- was your hope for a savior?

I’m reminded of the 1981 book “The Cinderalla Complex”, it’s about the hope and fantasy of many, many women to be rescued by a man, to be like Cinderalla who was rescued from her hopeless life with her evil stepmother by a prince.

Although many more women work and earn a good income since 1981, the fantasy is alive and well, particularly when it comes to more traditional societies and anxious women who grew up without emotional safety.

There are approaches in different therapies that target this very fantasy, teaching women to develop a “secure base” within, or develop a secure adult self/ a capable “inner parent” to take care of the anxious “inner child”.

But none of it is easy, of course, for a girl who grew up without a secure base, or a capable parent 😔.

I didn’t even know Medium exists, or if I came across the word before, I forgot. I may look into it. Thank you for mentioning it.

How are you feeling today/ this evening?

🌿 Anita

Hi again, Girija:

“Last night I had an incredible realisation that I really got to live… It was a life in and of itself… It was amazing too.”- I wish you could tell me more about that Life‑In‑And‑Of‑Itself. How did it feel all that time?

“I don’t know if needing that sense of belonging all the time is good for me… I honestly think I don’t know how to live life… it’s a dull contrast to what I had with him and the previous team.”-

Losing two places where you felt connected would make anyone question belonging, direction, and how life is supposed to feel. Wanting belonging is human. And the contrast you’re describing… I can imagine how sharp it must feel.

… I just saw your most recent message. I’ll reply more fully in the morning (it’s Sunday, after 10 pm here), but for now, this part stayed with me:

“My pretenses – pretending I don’t want a saviour to swoop in, make my life feel good and make me less aware.”-

Girija… that’s such honest writing. Naming that wish takes courage. Wanting someone who brings ease, comfort, and a break from emotional intensity is such a human thing. You put it into words beautifully.

I spent so many, many hours (as a teenager and older) daydreaming about a saviour man. Those imaginings felt euphoric.

I’ll be back to you in the morning.

🌿 Anita

Hi Nea:

I relate to what you shared about your father’s rage and aggression. My mother had very similar patterns — physical and verbal aggression from as early as I can remember. When my parents were married, there was violence between them, and after they divorced (I was six), her aggression turned toward me. Like in your case, accountability never followed.

You wrote that the last incident happened in your mid‑20s. Same for me. I was around that age the last time she came at me to hit me. That time I blocked her — caught her arms and held them. She backed off and never tried again.

When I got married (very early 20s), she exploded at my husband — verbally, not physically — and I froze. I didn’t protect him, didn’t set boundaries, didn’t redefine anything. We left her home that evening, and not long after, my marriage ended. I didn’t have children.

So, while my story doesn’t have the strength and clarity you’re showing now, I do understand that moment when you realize the way you learned to survive as a child cannot continue into your adult family.

You’re already doing something I couldn’t do back then — choosing your own household’s peace over the old patterns and I admire you for that.

Wishing you a smooth last stretch of pregnancy and a safe, healthy birth.

🌿 Anita

Back 2 U:

“My mom and sis do say I was always stressed and only cared about work”-

It is totally understandable to me that you cared so much about work. I think that it was your corrective experience opportunity- to finally be what you weren’t allowed to be in the context of family.

Back to what you said a bit earlier: “I don’t think he loved me. Or I don’t know.”-

That you think he might have loved you tells me that you sense something unmistakenly genuine in the way he talked to you, looked at you, etc. It’s my guess that he felt genuine loving feelings for you, but those were limited in time and place (rather than being continous and ever lasting).

You mentioned reading about Narcissists in an earlier message- lots of people jump to that popular label because it makes things look black and white clear, no ambiguity, and that feels better to many.

But except for people who truly fit the diagnosis (handed by a professional following meeting the person irl, etc.), It’s just a convenient go-to-label.

“I don’t know how to want my life that bad again.”-

To want to matter, to belong, to be fully allowed- or better- to be embraced for you being uniquely you..?

This reminds me of my uncle asking me, with genuine curiosity and affection (I was a teenager perhaps) what I thought about something. I don’t remember the topic, but I clearly remember my shock at the time: someone was interested in what I was thinking, as if what I was thinking had value?

The feeling was intoxicating. I remember it as if it happened only yesterday.

Our childhood experiences are not identical of course, but I see similarities.

Uniquely Anita 🙂