I am Me . . . right?!

by Quercus


As a follow-up to my last post, I wanted to talk briefly on the subject of "Identity Crises". I don't know much about them at all (not being a psychologist or therapist or anything), but I do know that they happen.

Take my NMom, for example. She's been remaking her entire image, having a 'mid-life crisis' of epic proportions (shiny new sports car and all!). She made-over my father's entire wardrobe, trying to make him look 'better' (can I just say that a large beer belly contrasts terribly with a turtle-neck? He looks like a raindrop), and subsequently turning him into a very silly looking creature who is even less comfortable in his own skin.

They can have their identity crises - I don't want any part of them. I have to deal with my own identity crisis.

Being an 'appendage' of your NParent doesn't afford you much in the way of individuality. It's very difficult to be 'your own person' when you are treated as though you are naught but an extension of your parental Narcissist's existence.

If everything that you do, you say, you are reflects on your NParent and affects whether or not you were 'loved' by them, you're going to have grown up putting their opinions, thoughts and feelings before your own. Your mental landscape will have been tailored to suit this role; you will automatically do what keeps your NParent happiest, even when it means self-sabotage. Perhaps especially when it means self-sabotage.

It turns out that I self-sabotage, big time. I didn't notice it at first; I was the 'over-achiever' variety of ACoNs (the other choice is the 'rebellious' route, where you don't attempt to please your parents but actually seek to earn their disapprobation). I do well in school, I do well in society, I volunteer - li'l Miss Perfect, that's what I aim for!

And so I wouldn't have thought I self-sabotaged at all. But I do. I make success extremely hard on myself. I intentionally waffle and procrastinate and let deadlines catch me up (or pass me by). I can still hear the voice of my NMom, the night before ANY exam, convincing me that I've done enough studying - I just need to close the books and go to bed. Kind words, aren't they? Uttered at 6:30pm? She was trying to lower my marks - my grades have always been a source of envy to her (I know this because, "Your father never got grades anywhere close to that!"). She certainly didn't either, but she can't 'go there'!

Now they're out of my hair during times of study. And what do I do? I convince myself I need another break. Or that I've done enough, even though I know I haven't and there's still two chapters I haven't even looked at! I drag my feet, I do a lacklustre job of it, I 'scrape by'.

Scraping by when you could have easily aced something isn't perhaps the most dramatic of 'failures', but it's one that hurts me and my chances in the future. And I still do it. According to my psychologist, I'm letting things at work slide because of a supervisor who's threatened by my 'success'. So instead of just ignoring that and doing well quietly in spite of the tension, I self-sabotage. Suddenly a project I had a complete grip on, something I was inherently good at, becomes "too much for me". I get sick. I make major errors. I panic. A project I could have breezed through is now something I can barely face in the morning - the mole hill is a mountain. And I built that mountain up by missing deadlines, screwing up key components, taking time off. Why do I do this to myself?!

According to my shrink, it's because I've been programmed since birth to prove the overlord right. It all started, all of it, when my supervisor showed real signs of being threatened by me - she put me down, accused me of flirting my way into the position (there are so many reasons why that's not true and almost comical in my case!), and said I didn't measure up.

And all of a sudden, my self-confidence took a nose-dive, I started having doubts, my project started to suffer.

What was I doing? Proving she was right. Now, at the end of the project, I'm having trouble wrapping it up. It's going to make me look competent. It's going to disprove her in front of everyone.

I am protecting her.

So, am I me? Or am I her? I'm operating in her best interests, not my own. I don't even like this monstrous woman; why should I help her?

And that's the bottom-line for today's post. I've been raised to be a self-sacrificing, self-harming human being to counter the insecurities of female rulers. I unconsciously hoist myself onto my own petard to slay the threat that I am. This may have served as a survival mechanism when I was 13 and living at home, but now? Now it's a vestigial program that I need to rewrite, quickly, before I spend the rest of my life throwing myself on my own sword to keep the deranged narcissists in my life appeased.

I am me, but who am I? A self-slaughtering scapegoat, or a person in my own right? The jury's still out on that one.