Archive for inner struggle
My Hungry Heart ~ Part 2 of 3
Posted by: | CommentsThere’s this phenomenon in nature that happens with baby ducks and geese called imprinting. The gist of it is that the very first thing the baby bird sees when it first hatches is what the baby bird thinks it is. So, if it sees a human first after being hatched, it truly believes that that is what it is too. Ideally, the baby duck will imprint to its mother, so that it can learn to live as a duck, learn to fly, mate, migrate and flourish.
My parents have their own stories, and what they did not receive or find in their own lifetimes they did not to pass on to me. They raised me to be a good girl, to be well-behaved, to not talk back or fight or be angry. I was smart, and was applauded for being smart, at church and in school. But the hunger and depression that I experienced in later years was proof that something was missing.
I was once asked, “When you were a little girl, did your mom or dad hold you on their lap and just talk with you and say, ‘So, what’s Carla thinking about today? What’s going on inside? What do you think or feel about this or that?’” The question hit me deep and the tears sprang to my eyes; no, I had no memory of that kind of interaction with my parents.
One of the biggest things we need to know as children in order to flourish as people is that who we are, just as we are, is valuable. What we think, what we feel, is important. What I knew as a child was that I was valuable if I was “good”; I failed to learn that who I was, who I am, IS good enough, no questions asked, no proof required. That “imprinting” didn’t happen. And so the outside world became my “parent”, so to speak. I began the painful and addictive habit of constantly looking outside of myself, to everyone else, to tell me that I was okay.
~Carla~
My Hungry Heart ~ Part 1 of 3
Posted by: | CommentsNature abhors a vacuum. I believe the same is true for our souls, our hearts. We’re created with roots that go deep, roots always seeking for nourishment to grow, to stay alive, with the potential to thrive.
When people learn about my struggle with depression, they are usually surprised. When I started seeing a counselor a 3 years ago, I didn’t understand it myself. I just knew that I was in great angst. I was doing a job that I wasn’t enjoying, but I felt so conflicted about whether or not to continue. I felt guilty about most everything. I was highly anxious in social situations. I was angry, but couldn’t figure out a reason to be (and therefore felt guilty about being angry). I had this tightness inside me all the time. For so long I had sought the counsel of other people, family, teachers, friends, relatives, and mentors. I couldn’t make my own decisions. I bounced back and forth between flying high (because of some outside circumstance that boosted my self esteem momentarily) or scrounging in the pits of despair, or muddling somewhere in between.
I was so afraid of giving up. I had this deep down feeling of wanting to be who I was really made to be, of fulfilling some kind of purpose, and was so sad at the thought of wasting my life. But I couldn’t figure out how to live differently. I would think, “Why is this so hard for me? What’s my problem?” The struggle was so tiresome.
I am fortunate and grateful that I didn’t experience verbal, sexual, or physical abuse in my childhood. That was not my experience. But nature abhors a vacuum, and it was what didn’t happen to me as a child that set me up for years of searching, thirsting and hungering.
~Carla~
