Dear Calm Moon:

I am deeply moved by your message. It means so much to hear that my story resonated with you on such a profound level. Your reflections on taking responsibility and embracing your adult self are incredibly empowering, and I’m honored to have played a part in your journey.

Change and growth can be challenging, and it’s wonderful to see you taking an active position in your life. Remember, it’s okay to take your time as you process everything. Self-discovery is a lifelong journey, and every step you take is a victory.

Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me. Your words are a testament to your strength and courage. I’m here to support you as you navigate this path.

anita

Dear Peter:

First, I want to rewrite what you presented in your recent post and expand on parts I didn’t adequately understand. Not because you didn’t write it well, but because of my significant to severe lifetime ADD: I can’t absorb much information unless I rewrite what I read. (I’ve done this since I was able to write, rewriting everything when studying for test in elementary school and onward).

In your recent post, you reflected on your habit of labeling your experiences as “bad” or “good.” You acknowledged that these labels impose judgments, which may not accurately reflect the reality of those moments, realizing that your ability to label experiences wasn’t inherently good or bad; it just was.

The lack of labeling and judgment in the storytelling of Sarah Polley’s documentary stood out to you, and you appreciate how the documentary presented Sarah’s mother as a complex and multi-dimensional individual. Instead of being seen through a single lens or defined by one aspect of her life, she is shown as having various sides to her personality and character. This includes her dreams, aspirations, personal struggles, strengths, and weaknesses. The documentary doesn’t shy away from showing her human flaws, acknowledging that she, like everyone else, had her shortcomings. The documentary does not define Sarah’s mother solely by her affair and not reducing her to a single act or mistake.

It’s easy to allow the stories, opinions, and judgments of others to shape how we see ourselves and our own lives. People internalize these external narratives and let them define our self-worth or life path. The key point here is that, despite the influence of others, we have the power to choose whether or not to let these external stories define us. Recognizing that it’s a choice means taking responsibility for how we perceive and define ourselves, rather than passively accepting external definitions. Understanding that we have a choice in how we let others’ stories affect us is empowering.

This means that we can reframe our experiences, redefine our self-worth, and construct a personal narrative that aligns with our authentic selves. It allows us to create a story that is true to who we are. In essence, while others’ stories can influence us, we have the power to choose how much we let them define us.

The documentary’s imagery and approach to capturing raw, unfiltered moments resonates deeply with you. You found beauty in the discomfort and messiness of the individuals sharing their stories. There is a unique beauty in the honest, unfiltered, and sometimes messy sharing of personal stories. You wonder if labeling our experiences prevents us from appreciating their raw beauty. By not labeling, we might be able to see the true essence of our stories.

As you revisited old journal entries, you contemplate whether you can view them without the need to “fix” them. Instead, you consider seeing them with fresh eyes, allowing them to be as they were/are/will be.

You question whether you can accept the messiness of your life as beautiful. This acceptance represents a significant shift in how you perceive and relates to your past.

2nd part of this post is quoting you and commenting: “you could see…. them… all of it in their faces, the shots pierced the heart… the bitter the sweet, and it was beautiful in all its messiness, they were beautiful in their discomfort of sharing”- this sentence, your sentence starts messy, authentic (not tidy) and it is indeed beautiful.

“Can I tell the stories today without the labels and let them be as they were/are/will be? Can I allow the messiness of myself to be beautiful? LOL Why do I feel a need to label is so?”-

-Yesterday, in my short reply, based on these three questions, I labeled/ referred to you as “cute”. The word “cute” is often associated with innocence and a sense of purity, and it’s often used to describe what or who evokes positive and affectionate feelings. Indeed, my use of “cute” was motivated by a feeling of affection and positive appreciation of you. I see innocence and purity in your questions.

But after submitting that post yesterday, I was worried that “cute” may not come across positively to you, that it may offend you. In other words, referring to you as “cute” may have been messy. Although very well intended: I thought it’d make you feel good to know how your questions came across to me.

“Can I tell the stories today without the labels and let them be as they were/are/will be?”- I am now asking myself this question with the intent to answer it in regard to my story or stories involving the person who impacted my life so very much: she (my mother) did what she needed to do, similar in principle to a hungry mountain lion attacking and eating a fawn (a young deer). People generally wouldn’t label the mountain lion “bad” because it is driven by instinct, and it didn’t choose to be born a carnivore (or to be born at all), and everyone needs to eat.

The above was pretty neat. I’ll try to be messy: my mother was so sad, so depressed, I feel sorry for her. Oh, how I wish she was happy, so very, very much, wanting her to be happy with every fiber of my being.

“Without the labels and let them be as they were/are/will be?”- without labels, underneath or beyond labels, there is love (based on what I typed right above, from my heart).

“Can I allow the messiness of myself to be beautiful?”- my messiness is Love, after all, I realize now, as I am typing this. Ha. And love is beautiful, nothing more beautiful.

“LOL Why do I feel a need to label is so?”- (1) my neat answer: labeling is a natural cognitive function that helps us categorize and make sense of the world. It simplifies complex information, making it easier to process and communicate. Historically, labeling has been crucial for survival, helping us quickly identify threats, resources, and social dynamics.

Accurately labeling emotions is necessary for mental health and healthy social function. By accurately naming/ labeling our emotions, we can * Identify what triggers them, which is essential for addressing underlying issues. * Reduce their intensity. For example, identifying a feeling as “anxiety” rather than just experiencing an overwhelming sense of discomfort can make it more manageable. * Apply appropriate coping strategies. Knowing we are sad, for instance, may motivate us to seek comfort, while recognizing anger may lead us to find ways to calm down. * Communicate our feelings more clearly to others, enhancing understanding and empathy in relationships, and resolving conflicts more effectively. * Prevent rumination, where we endlessly cycle through negative thoughts. * Make more informed and balanced choices that consider both emotional and rational aspects. * Avoid making impulsive decisions based on unchecked emotions.

My messy (non-analytical, non-clinical) answer (about you): it’s okay for Peter to be Peter. Peter is beautiful inside and out. Everything about Peter is okay with me. I like you.

anita

Dear Zenith:

Thank you for sharing your thoughts (again) so openly. You are always welcome to do so. It’s completely normal to feel stuck and compare yourself to others sometimes. Many people go through similar experiences, and it’s important to acknowledge that your feelings are valid.

Taking small steps can really make a difference. Even if it feels challenging, try to take small actions toward your goals. Every little effort counts, and it’s okay to move at your own pace.

Interviews can be very difficult, especially with social anxiety. Practicing with a trusted friend or family member can help build confidence. Remember, it’s okay to feel nervous— many people do. Also, seeking support from a career coach may help.

Comparing yourself to others is hard but try to focus on your own journey. Everyone’s path is different, and what matters most is your own growth and progress. Celebrate your achievements, no matter how small they might seem.

When it comes to social connections, quality often matters more than quantity. Nurture the friendships you have and consider joining a club or group that interests you to build new connections. It’s natural to feel jealous sometimes, but focusing on the positive aspects of your own life can help.

Navigating cultural and social dynamics, like casteism, is difficult. Seek out communities where you feel accepted and valued. Connecting with others who share similar experiences provides a sense of belonging and understanding.

You have three friends and a supportive husband—those relationships are valuable. Keep nurturing them and take care of yourself.

Hang in there and know that you have support. 🌟

anita

Dear Zenith:

You are welcome. Got to run (a very late start of the day, being that I slept so little, was up before 2 am, then napped at 9 am. I’ll read and reply later, Tues morning, if not later this evening.

Take care of yourself- you deserve peace of mind!

anita

Dear Zenith:

You make a good distinction, that between being a good person and a good manager. A good manager has to be good at delegating tasks, it’s a vital part of managing people. Too bad your manager is not good at his job. No worries about ranting, Zenith- it’s your thread, and you are welcome to rant as much as you need to!

anita

Dear Beni:

I studied your first thread this morning (well, night really, slept very little) because I realized lately that you and I have a lot in common in regard to our relationships with our mothers. In my almost 10 years in these forums, I don’t remember reading from any other member who experienced something so similar to what I experienced in content, intensity and consequences, so understanding you better leads me to understanding me better.

These are your words from your thread “How can I do what I want with joy”, July 18, 2023- Sept 15, 2024: “it’s something like my space. She was too close. There was not enough space for me… By not expressing myself I protect my Mom from worrying, or meet her need for control. If she makes a request and I’m not sure that it’s selfless I can’t do it… It sometimes feels like that I am my mom”-

– In the early stages of life, babies are naturally enmeshed with their primary caregiver, often the mother. This means that babies rely entirely on their mother for their physical and emotional needs. This close bond is crucial for the baby’s survival and development.

As children grow, they go through a process called separation-individuation. This is when they begin to recognize themselves as separate individuals from their mother. This process typically starts in infancy and continues through early childhood. It’s a gradual journey of gaining independence and developing a unique sense of self.

In a healthy developmental environment, the mother (if she is the primary or sole caretaker) supports the child’s growing independence while providing a secure base. This means the child feels safe to explore and express their individuality, knowing they have support to return to. This balance helps the child develop a strong, independent sense of self while maintaining a healthy attachment to the mother.

If the mother is too controlling and makes everything about her, this process is disrupted and the child struggle to separate and individuate, as they constantly feel pressured to meet the mother’s needs or expectations.

In such cases, the child may remain enmeshed, finding it challenging to develop their own identity and autonomy. This can lead to difficulties in establishing healthy boundaries and self-confidence later in life.

In summary, while all babies start with a natural enmeshment with their primary caregiver, a healthy development involves gradual separation and individuation. If the mother is overly controlling, it hinders this process, leading to ongoing enmeshment and challenges in forming an independent sense of self.

More of what you shared in that thread: “When I’m with people with different dialect I adopt it. I can easily be with a group and agree to every activity. I might lose my autonomy with time. Yes, I tend to tell people what they want to hear… I’d like to learn how to set healthy boundaries… I’d like to set boundaries with my mother.. I have some memories of self destructive behavior. Where I destroy things I like or a window or hit myself on the head to find some exit for how I feel… Empathy and the ability to express how you feel, really listen with the heart. I do not remember my parents doing that. Telling me how they feel or having these moments of connection much… when I think at my childhood I get maybe straight away 2-3 situations. In 4 Minutes I get like 8 situations, I remember… By not expressing myself I protect my Mom from worrying or meet her need for control… I do not wish to be controlled. I want to be asked what I would like to do… I’ve been thinking that I am dependent on her (subconscious). Cause I noticed that the things which stress her out like traveling, working a regular job, not misusing drugs, having a girlfriend are things I struggle(d) creating for myself…It sometimes feels like that I am my mom and my self is this thing I can’t control”-

– Like you, I struggled with autonomy. I was mostly unable to make decisions and act independently, without being controlled by others. I was unable to form and pursue my own goals and values. Essentially, I didn’t have the power to make choices and take actions that were in line with my own desires and principles. Like you, my tendency has been to tell people what they want to hear and people-please in other ways.

Growing up and into adulthood, on one hand I felt too close to my mother, so close that I felt suffocated. There was little to no emotional space for me. She took all the space, none left for me. I was unable to distinguish my own emotional state from hers: if she was anxious, I was anxious. If she felt hurt by a person, I was hurt by the same person. If she was angry at whomever, I was angry at him or her. When she felt good, it was my opportunity (as rare as it was) to feel good. It’s like I didn’t have my own feelings. I experienced her feelings.

But I did have my own feelings, it’s just that there was no space for my feelings. Her feelings took all the space.

On the other hand, the relationship severely lacked genuine emotional intimacy and understanding. This created a paradox where I was physically and emotionally close to my mother but psychologically distant and isolated, a confusing mix of being too close and too far.

Like you, my memories of my childhood last (if I replay them in my mind) only a few minutes. My mother’s dominant presence dominated my own experiences away from her (like when in school).

In general terms, severe enmeshment is traumatic and it therefore affects mempry.

in an enmeshed relationship, the child is continually exposed to the parent’s intense emotions and needs. This is overwhelming, causing chronic stress and anxiety. The child’s emotional system is constantly on high alert, trying to manage and respond to the parent’s emotional state, which leads to emotional exhaustion and trauma. The constant suppression of self is traumatic, as the child’s needs and desires are persistently overshadowed by the parent’s. The undue burden of feeling responsible for the parent’s emotional states creates intense feelings of guilt and shame and prevents the child from developing healthy, age-appropriate relationships, leading to long-term psychological distress.

When the child faces an ongoing internal conflict between their need for independence and the parent’s controlling behavior, it is deeply distressing and traumatic as the child feels torn between loyalty to the parent and the desire to assert their own identity. The inability to resolve this conflict leads to feelings of helplessness, frustration, and emotional pain.

The emotional trauma from enmeshment has lasting effects into adulthood, including difficulties in forming healthy relationships, feelings of inadequacy and low self-worth, anxiety and depression caused by chronic stress, and a weak or fragmented sense of self, making it challenging to make independent decisions and pursue personal goals.

Moving to this thread, you shared on Dec 15, 2024: “I wonder if someone want’s to share his insight to the following: I noticed that when I meet someone with the glassy alienated look in their eyes. It affects me very much… I have stomach pain… It’s hard to move my body. It’s hard to speak even to myself. I feel alienated too and I worry big for the person even if I don’t know her”-

– This heightened sensitivity to others’ emotions is an extgension of the traumatic enmeshment experience of childhood. The child is continuously exposed to the mother’s intense emotions, creating a constant emotional overload. Unlike in healthy relationships where the child has space to process his/ her own emotions, an enmeshed child is perpetually entangled in the mother’s emotional state without relief. The child often feels responsible for managing the mother’s emotions, which is an overwhelming burden for a young mind. Failing to meet her emotional needs leads to feelings of guilt and shame, further compounding the emotional distress. The mother’s intense emotions are, in effect, traumatic to the child and trauma can indeed manifest physically, with symptoms such as stomach pain, headaches, or other stress-related ailments.

In summary, the intense and continuous exposure to a controlling and emotionally overwhelming parent, coupled with the burden of emotional caretaking, can indeed make the mother’s feelings traumatic for an enmeshed child. Fast forward, the enmeshed child is now an adult… and other people’s strong emotions, like the stranger with glassy alienated look in hia/ hwe eyes, are experienced as traumatic.

Back to something you wrote in your first thread: “I feel disconnected when I set boundaries. It’s like one or the other extreme: only you or only me”- You experienced boundary-setting as an extreme, feeling that it has to be either “only you” (completely giving in to the other person’s needs) or “only me” (focusing solely on your own needs).

This all-or-nothing thinking (as in it’s me OR you) is common in enmeshed individuals. Setting boundaries can feel like an act of self-betrayal (if you satisfy the other person’s needs) or betrayal of the other person (if you satisfy your own needs), creating significant emotional discomfort. Healing is about finding a balance, and since you are way into your healing journey, you will put balance more and more into practice with people who are not controlling and dominanting (better avoid and stay away from controlling and dominating people, family or otherwise).

anita

Dear Peter:

“So, this topic thread isn’t about looking for help or trying to fix something, but about journals. Wondering if anyone else has old journals and were surprised but what they wrote back when. Feel free to add thoughts or your own meanderings from any old journal entries you might have”-

– Inspired by your invitation I just accessed one of a few very, very thick folders I have, full of printed pages that I typed or copied and pasted. I’ll start with a poem that was presented to me in 2011 by the therapist (a CBT + Mindfulness therapist) I was seeing at the time, my first quality psychotherapy, as I refer to it. This poem started me on my healing path which continues to this day, mostly in the context of these tiny buddha forums, on a daily basis, ever since May 2015. When I deleted my account on Feb 2023 and did not post through Aug 2023, I still read and studied posts on the forums.

* The separation of the poem into paragraphs as follows (the format) is my doing. The words are Roger Start Keyes’s words, an art historian and a York Zen (a Zen Buddhist meditation group based in York, Northern England) who studied Katsushika Hokusai (1760-1849), a Japanese artist. Here is the poem that started me on the healing part close to 14 years ago:

“Hokusai says look carefully. He says pay attention, notice. He says keep looking, stay curious. He says there is no end to seeing. He says look forward to getting old. He says keep changing, you just get more who you really are. He says get stuck, accept it, repeat yourself as long as it is interesting. He says keep doing what you love. He says keep praying. He says every one of us is a child, every one of us is ancient, every one of us has a body.

“He says every one of us is frightened. He says every one of us has to find a way to live with fear.

“He says everything is alive– shells, buildings, people, fish, mountains, trees, wood is alive. Water is alive. Everything has its own life. Everything lives inside us. He says live with the world inside you.

“He says it doesn’t matter if you draw or write books. It doesn’t matter if you saw wood or catch fish. It doesn’t matter if you sit at home and stare at the ants on your veranda or the shadows of the trees and grasses in your garden. It matters that you care. It matters that you feel. It matters that you notice. It matters that life lives through you.

“Contentment is life living through you. Joy is life living through you. Satisfaction and strength is life living through you. Peace is life living through you.

“He says don’t be afraid. Don’t be afraid. Look, feel, let life take you by the hand. Let life live through you.”

As I was rereading the above poem today, I was thinking about you, Peter. In my mind, it’s as if it was written just for you. But then, it’s as if it was written just for me, and it’s very relevant to every moment, every day of my life still.

I am now looking for something to share from my massive journal entries in one of the folders (difficult because it’s in small print… looking for some old reading glasses) … To my surprise I see a page I typed sometime in the summer of 2008. There, I summarized information I read in a self-help book. Here’s part of it: “Harsh self-criticism lowers one’s motivation, increases anger, guilt and limitation”. What amazes me about these words is that at the time, more than 16 years ago, I wasn’t even close to a significant measure of understanding these words. Now I see that it was a strictly intellectual understanding, nothing that penetrated any deeper than the surface. It is only recently that I understand and practice self- compassion in the place of harsh self- criticism. This shift is a new practice for me.

Turning the pages, I fast forward to Jan 2013. I can see that I was deep into an eating disorder (binge eating) at the time, tortured, obsessed… Here’s something from Jan 2, 2013: “(My therapist’s name) said it has been THE FIGHT OF MY LIFE to BE SEEN”. Here is a part of what I wrote on Jan 28, 2013 (in hand- writing, a sort of a poem in the language I grew up with, translated here): “I waited for a long, long time- I waited and waited for her (my mother) to hear me… Why don’t you hear me?… You (my mother) placed me in a prison of anger- a prison of fear- and I can’t get out…”.

My notes today: going over the (many, so many) pages was sometimes stressful to read, feeling that same-old, same old deep emotional pain that I don’t want to feel again.

I mentioned above having been imprisoned in fear and anger. I didn’t mention, in that poem, having been imprisoned in Guilt. I felt too guilty to become an autonomous entity, too guilty to exist outside of my mother. Under her disturbing dominance, I was psychologically dead, or very much dying on a regular basis (outside moments of forgetting, daydreaming). Now, I can call it emotional enmeshment, a psychological entrapment. I craved freedom from her for more than half a century.

She was my jailer, no doubt. Through her histrionics, protracted self-pity episodes, expressing her suicidal ideation to me, at length, blaming me, at length, many, many times, while there was no seeing ME, no hearing ME, I was unfree to be. Me. There in the home I grew up in, there was no ME. There was ONLY her. No autonomy for me, no self-agency; no empowered, self-directed existence for me. Enmeshment was indeed suffocating to the extreme. I was suffocated but still physically alive.

Feeling disconnected from myself and from others was my brand of living- dying. It was an incredibly isolating and disorienting experience: I didn’t really know what I wanted, what I believed, couldn’t therefore make decisions or set goals because of this not-knowing. Had a sense of aimlessness, as if I was drifting through life without direction or meaning. Growing up, joy and excitement were muted, absent except for when daydreaming while listening to music when I was alone, without her being there in-person. I felt like an observer, detached from my actions or inactions, disconnected from my body and experiences. I felt profoundly lonely, emotionally cut off from the inside and from the outside, not fitting in or belonging anywhere.

This persistent sense of disconnection led to my experience of chronic anxiety, hopelessness, helplessness, physical fatigue and exhaustion on a regular basis.

Thank you, Peter, for the opportunity to find a pair of reading glasses that makes it possible for me to read these old pages. I hope you are doing well and would like to read more about your experiences without trying to fix anything you share, as you requested.

* Trying to fix others by excessive intellectual analysis has been an ineffective habit of mine for the longest time. People need to be given space for their emotions to breathe, so to speak, a quiet space that’s not afforded when being the recipients of … noisy analyses.

anita

Dear Peter:

Thank you for sharing your journal reflections and the profound quotes from John Eldredge’s “The Sacred Romance.”

I wrote a whole lot of hand-written journal entries since I can remember myself, threw away all, then about 14 years ago, I started typing lots and lots of journal entries and I still have those printed journals, but I can’t read them without great difficulty because to comfortably read them I’d need new reading glasses. I get by without because I can easily magnify the computer screen. I no longer read books. My only reading is at the computer.

The passage you shared about beauty and affliction piercing the human heart is incredibly powerful and resonates with me very much:

“Our deepest convictions are formed without conscious effort, but the effect is a shift deep in our soul”- this means that I didn’t choose to be who I became. I became who I was (before recent healing) due to automatic, human responses to what I was born into (the people and circumstances of my childhood). In other words, I was a complex set of reactions.

“To choose to shut your heart to love – so that you won’t be hurt – is to deny the very thing you are made for”- profound! Indeed, I denied myself. I was a stranger to myself, a stranger that I didn’t like, a stranger that no one liked. Alone A Lot. A whole lot of Alone. An Eternity of Alone.

Early in childhood, maybe I was six, maybe younger, don’t remember, I placed myself on hold so to accommodate my mother’s needs, as I perceived those to be. My needs became strangers to myself.

“We must renounce our childhood vows. They trap our hearts… we believe the lie and make the vow. It is important to break the vow so it may not have a strong hold on our hearts.”- the first vow I made was to be a good girl, a good daughter, so that my mother will like me. This means (I realize as I am typing) that the premise of this vow was that I was a bad girl, a bad daughter, a bad person. This core belief was the foundational premise of my life for longer than half a century.

It is only recently that I feel (really, feel) that I am sometimes, here and there, liked by other people. I didn’t even know how it feels until recently. I feel like a little girl now, the girl that was put on hold for so long, too long. The denied little girl is here, typing these words: “Here I Am!”

anita