Confronting My Dark Side

I was in survival mode when I was a kid. I didn't open up to anyone because I was afraid something bad would happen if I was honest. I was so used to living like that I was estranged even from myself by the time I got to college. I didn't know how to talk to people or how to be with people. I didn’t know how to act. I didn’t know what to reveal about myself. I didn’t know what was safe or appropriate. Others seemed so free in the way they spoke of their likes and dislikes, ambitions and desires. I didn’t know how to be like that. And in many ways, I couldn’t interact with people because I didn’t know who I was. I was buried deep within myself. I was a mystery even to myself. I actually worried that I wasn’t a real person or a whole person. I thought I might be missing something.

So I went to see a therapist. I would tell her about the major events in my life, and she would ask me how I felt about those things. I didn't know what to say. Every week she kept asking, "How do you feel?" It took over a year before my protective wall started to crack. Looking back on it, I’m sure I frustrated the hell out of her, and she probably wanted to shake the shit out of me more than a few times. Finally, she asked, "Aren't you angry? You know, you're allowed to be angry. I would be angry if I was you." That's when the floodgates really opened.

I was so pissed off because I hadn't been nurtured and because I had been made to feel unsafe and worthless. But over time, I realized the anger didn't consume me as I instinctually feared it might. I had been avoiding that dark hole of anger. But I didn't turn into a homicidal maniac. I didn't seek revenge. But a part of me was very angry, and that's when I started to believe that I was just as good as those who put me down or ignored me while I was growing up. I knew it wasn't right the way I had been passed over, put in my place and humiliated a million and one times. I knew it wasn’t right that the only person I could rely on when I was a small child was psychotic.

Then after I owned my own feelings, and began to believe that I had worth and began to believe that I had been mistreated, that’s when I was able to see things from the perspective of those who should have been more carrying, nurturing and more attentive to my needs. I realized that they were deeply flawed human beings, and they mistreated me out of ignorance and fear and that they were too busy worrying about themselves to give me much consideration. That’s when I learned you can be angry at someone and still feel compassion for them. The anger does not negate the love. It’s not an either/or thing.