I Never Know When To Look Away

"Look me in the eyes when I'm talking to you."

Sorry, I can't even look TV characters in the eye. You're definitely not getting a free pass just because you're live.

When I listen to my mother talk about me as a child, I feel such an overwhelming confusion and disconnect. With the way she remembers me, it would seem as if I had no clear personality of my own. I hardly cried or laughed as a baby, I never got into trouble to the point that I'd never even been disciplined, I followed all the rules, I excelled at all my schoolwork but never boasted, I had vague interests but nothing intense, I was kind and friendly but I didn't push for friends, etc.

The perfect child. Perfectly average traits.

I read "The Divided Self" by R.D. Laing recently.

One of the things that gave me the greatest feelings of validation and relief from that book are the childhoods of the patients he talks about- before this, I've never seen such a clear example of my own childhood painted in a light that resonates with me.

None of the patients he provided had explicitly abusive childhoods, and none of them remembered their childhoods as particularly traumatic. Of course, most recalled their parents as some mixture of distant and unpredictable, and in some cases there was definitely emotional neglect and verbal abuse, but it was passing and not incredibly eventful. (I am not making light of anyone's experiences, I'm speaking only about the example patients' own accounts).

Many of the patients and the patients' families tell tales that mirror my own: "Julie was never a demanding baby. She was weaned without difficulty. Her mother had no bother with her from the day she took off nappies completely when she was fifteen months old. She was never 'a trouble'. She always did what she was told. These are the mother's basic generalizations in support of the view that Julie was always a 'good' child."

Most interestingly, the author hears these accounts both from the patients and the patients' family, and he sees them as negative. In contrast to literally everyone else I've opened up to, he says, "I have come to regard such an account of the earliest origins of behaviour as especially ominous, when the parents sense nothing amiss in it all, but on the contrary mention it with evident pride.”

The author goes on referring to the patient Julie, "This is the description of a child who has in some way never come alive: for a really alive baby is demanding, is a trouble, and by no means always does what she is told. [...] The crucial thing seems to me to be that [Julie's mother] evidently takes just those things which I take to be expressions of an inner deadness in the child as expressions of the utmost goodness, health, normality."

Complete and total compliance and obedience is NOT normal from a child (nor from anyone, I would argue but that's not the point). Children have to make mistakes and cause problems and stand up for themselves in order to learn how to live and be their own person! If a child doesn't do that and is only ever praised for their lack of autonomy, they're not going to grow into a secure personhood.

It is very important to me to hear this for the first time, especially from a credited psychologist. For years I've felt I was crazy for thinking that my childhood was so dreadfully abnormal and concerning whilst everyone assured me I was as healthy as could be (and side-eyed me as if I was exaggerating for attention).

I've always considered myself to be afflicted by "gifted kid burnout", which I am going to assume my small audience is familiar with, but the concept of "ontological insecurity" Laing discusses in this book fits even better, which I didn't think was possible.

It's rare that I feel someone completely understands even a small part of myself, so I am very glad I read this book and I would recommend it to anyone else interested.

To end this post, here's three additional quotes from the book, each referring to a different patients' childhood, yet all I can relate to:

“There was no open neglect or hostility in her family. She felt, however, that her parents were always too engrossed in each other for either of them ever to take notice of her. She grew up wanting to fill this hole in her life but never succeeded in becoming self-sufficient. [...] [H]er abiding memory of herself as a child that she did not really matter to her parents, that they neither loved nor hated, admired nor were ashamed of her very much.” pg54

“What she called 'unreliability' was a feeling of bafflement and bewilderment which she related to the fact that nothing she did had ever seemed to please her parents. If she did one thing and was told it was wrong, she would do another thing and would find that they still said that that was wrong. She was unable to discover, as she put it, 'what they wanted me to be'.” pg59

“His father's account of him was very meagre. He had always been perfectly normal, and he thought his present eccentricities were simply an adolescent phase. He had always been a very good child, who did everything he was told and never caused any trouble. His mother had been devoted to him.” pg70

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You don’t need to go into a spiral every time you have your intrusive thoughts. You don’t need to spend time feeling guilty and bad about them to be a good person.

Honestly, it got easier to ignore my intrusive thought when I reacted neutrally to them. When I’d get one and go “oh, you’re an intrusive thought”. It allowed me to roll my eyes at it and move on.

Where spending time feeling bad about them because I thought I needed to feel bad about them to still be a good person just got me stuck in them. It left the thoughts happening for longer and more intensely for me. It was also more distressing to me.

You don’t need to feel guilt for your intrusive thoughts. It’s okay to just move on and carry on with your life. They don’t define you.

many such cases