My Feelings

I have been building on a theme the past few posts.   The theme has to do with my experience of being abandoned by both of my parents.   My father abandoned me literally,  forming a close bond with me when I was a young child and then disappearing when I was six years old.   My mom was there in the flesh,  and in many ways worked hard to do well by me.   However,  she too abandoned me in at least two important ways. 

First,   I perceive that my mom is not able to empathize with others' feelings.  She sees everything from her own perspective,  and does not change her behavior relative to other people's feelings.   She is not able to have much of an experience about what it's like to be in another's shoes.    She did not listen to or try to see into my feelings when I was a child.    She often would project what she thought about a situation and act on her projection.   Empathy for my feelings was not part of the data she acquired.  

As anyone knows who has seen the "Dog Whisperer" on TV,   when you ignore a behavior it tends to extinguish.     When Cesar Millan walks up to an angry dog barking and snarling on the other side of a fence,   he gets right up close to it and then ignores it.   Soon enough,  the dog calms down and the behavior goes away.     My mom and my dad didn't mean to,  but they used the same principle to extinguish my feeling-life.

So, am I saying that I have no feelings whatsoever?   Not exactly.   My insight here has to do with the fact  that our feelings are the means through which we can connect with our authentic life.   Feelings are the compass we use to navigate the high-seas adventures of interacting with our fellow human beings and the world around us.   If our feeling-life is stunted it's like we are trying to find our way over the wide ocean with a broken compass.

I have to admit that my compass,  if not broken,  is pretty banged up.   Or rather,  it never had an opportunity to develop in a healthy way when it was supposed to.     My parents ignored my feelings.   So I had the experience that my feelings did not matter,   that they did not have any influence whatever relative to my environment.   So,  in essence,  I learned that my feelings are useless.

So here I was in my therapy group last night and they were asking me about what I felt about what I've been blogging about the past few weeks.   About how I felt "betrayal" at my mom taking sides with her boyfriend over me when I was thirteen.   The group members were trying to get at what I meant by "betrayal",   what were some of the feelings behind that word?   I couldn't tell them.

I couldn't tell them because I don't know.   I didn't know because I was told very early in my life that my feelings were useless.   They did not matter.   When I try to find my feelings,  it seems to me like I could search high and low,   scour the landscape from top to bottom,  side to side,  and that I might very well not find them.   It's as if they don't exist.

I am pretty sure they exist.   But they're buried so deep inside of me,  so far away from my conscious mind,  that they might as well not be there at all.

I need my feelings.   I need my compass.

Your comments are welcome.

Warmly,  Ben