Recent posts
#1
Recovery Journals / Re: Living As All of Me
Last post by HannahOne - Today at 04:37:36 PMPapaCoco, I am still in the self loathing. Or, part of me hates myself. I figure that's also a survival mechanism, to think that it's my fault so I can undo it. I guess I'm still also working on acceptance. Being willing to have had it all happen. I don't want it to have happened. Like you say, it's a journey of a thousand steps. It just takes the time it takes. I feel frustrated that my life is quite a bit about all of this. I would like it to be about something else. But, then as you say, I wouldn't be me, right? And, it's a whole lot easier and more fun being me with others, which I found here. And if you're here, you must be out there too. I just have to let people know I'm here out there 
#2
Recovery Journals / Re: Living As All of Me
Last post by Papa Coco - Today at 03:32:31 PMHannahOne,
Frank is a creature to learn from. Before my knees gave out 5 years ago, I used to walk for exercise, at least an hour a day my whole entire life. Gads, I loved walking for exercise. I'm slow now and can only walk for about 20 minutes before my knees lock up. But back when I did walk far and fast, I had trails through the woods I could walk on. Many times, I'd admire and try to learn from the rabbits and bunnies that I would spook when I came around a corner. They'd quietly hop away, deep into the underbrush. I'd apologize as I walked past. I'd go 30 feet, stop and turn to see that as soon as I was gone, they'd return to their chewing. I wanted that so badly. I wished SO BADLY that I could handle danger and then get on with life. But no. I had to log my mistakes into the shame folder so I could run them on a loop through my conscious mind every day from then on. I have to spend the rest of my life avoiding anything that reminds me of that day when someone walked up on me and I had to hop into the underbrush.
I've given up a lot of delicious meals in life because I was too afraid to return to them after a scare.
I feel like I'm controlled by my past fears. Sometimes I wish I could get a memory wipe and wake up one morning knowing how to walk and talk but not remembering my past.
But that only shines a spotlight on the reality that I am who I am because of every, single, solitary thing I've ever been through.
As of the past year or so, I've finally crossed a line where I still suffer with fear and EF triggers, but I don't hate myself anymore. All the incessant reading and research and pondering and meditating I do has finally pushed me out of self-loathing. But that didn't stop the fears and triggers and the chronic sense of panic that churns like magma just beneath the nice cool surface of my being. The earth is a hot ball of molten lava with a cool crust that grows pretty trees, and I'm a bit like that myself too. I can feel pretty good for a while, but when something breaches the skin, a stream of volcanic fear and trauma fly out from me, boiling my skin until I can get that gap closed again. I don't hate myself anymore, but I still live in fear.
I hope you can find that same ability to let the fear and trauma be fear and trauma without the traumatized belief that it's your fault. In this world where we are healthier to take responsibility for our actions, our traumas are not one of the things we need to take responsibility for. I believe that you are right when you say this self-loathing was given to us against our wills by the people who were commissioned to teach us self-love. So it's NOT our fault that we have trauma. We can still take responsibility for our lives, but we don't have to take the blame for how we are wired. And how we are wired is real. It's a real problem that we really have to deal with.
My hope for all of us on this forum is that we can each find ways to separate our Selves from our traumas. Both are real. Both can happen simultaneously. We can have explosive EFs while still feeling our innocence around why we're having them. It's a long road to freedom from EFs. I call it my Journey of a Thousand Steps, and I'm working hard to focus on today's steps, and know that as long as I'm on the journey, I'm right where I need to be. Progress, not perfection. On my bedroom wall I put up a note that says, "The journey is the destination". That helps me to stop focusing on the frustration I tend to feel as I keep trying too hard to be fully healed.
My path runs alongside yours. I'm really glad we can share these things with one another here. I find that for me the saying is true; We're stronger together.
Frank is a creature to learn from. Before my knees gave out 5 years ago, I used to walk for exercise, at least an hour a day my whole entire life. Gads, I loved walking for exercise. I'm slow now and can only walk for about 20 minutes before my knees lock up. But back when I did walk far and fast, I had trails through the woods I could walk on. Many times, I'd admire and try to learn from the rabbits and bunnies that I would spook when I came around a corner. They'd quietly hop away, deep into the underbrush. I'd apologize as I walked past. I'd go 30 feet, stop and turn to see that as soon as I was gone, they'd return to their chewing. I wanted that so badly. I wished SO BADLY that I could handle danger and then get on with life. But no. I had to log my mistakes into the shame folder so I could run them on a loop through my conscious mind every day from then on. I have to spend the rest of my life avoiding anything that reminds me of that day when someone walked up on me and I had to hop into the underbrush.
I've given up a lot of delicious meals in life because I was too afraid to return to them after a scare.
I feel like I'm controlled by my past fears. Sometimes I wish I could get a memory wipe and wake up one morning knowing how to walk and talk but not remembering my past.
But that only shines a spotlight on the reality that I am who I am because of every, single, solitary thing I've ever been through.
As of the past year or so, I've finally crossed a line where I still suffer with fear and EF triggers, but I don't hate myself anymore. All the incessant reading and research and pondering and meditating I do has finally pushed me out of self-loathing. But that didn't stop the fears and triggers and the chronic sense of panic that churns like magma just beneath the nice cool surface of my being. The earth is a hot ball of molten lava with a cool crust that grows pretty trees, and I'm a bit like that myself too. I can feel pretty good for a while, but when something breaches the skin, a stream of volcanic fear and trauma fly out from me, boiling my skin until I can get that gap closed again. I don't hate myself anymore, but I still live in fear.
I hope you can find that same ability to let the fear and trauma be fear and trauma without the traumatized belief that it's your fault. In this world where we are healthier to take responsibility for our actions, our traumas are not one of the things we need to take responsibility for. I believe that you are right when you say this self-loathing was given to us against our wills by the people who were commissioned to teach us self-love. So it's NOT our fault that we have trauma. We can still take responsibility for our lives, but we don't have to take the blame for how we are wired. And how we are wired is real. It's a real problem that we really have to deal with.
My hope for all of us on this forum is that we can each find ways to separate our Selves from our traumas. Both are real. Both can happen simultaneously. We can have explosive EFs while still feeling our innocence around why we're having them. It's a long road to freedom from EFs. I call it my Journey of a Thousand Steps, and I'm working hard to focus on today's steps, and know that as long as I'm on the journey, I'm right where I need to be. Progress, not perfection. On my bedroom wall I put up a note that says, "The journey is the destination". That helps me to stop focusing on the frustration I tend to feel as I keep trying too hard to be fully healed.
My path runs alongside yours. I'm really glad we can share these things with one another here. I find that for me the saying is true; We're stronger together.
#3
Recovery Journals / Re: Post-Traumatic Growth Jour...
Last post by HannahOne - Today at 03:19:34 PM" toxic shame is something I "do" myself"
SenseOrgan, I think you're really on to something. Shame protected us. It kept us small so we wouldn't be further smashed. It's something the nervous system does under threat.
And now, how can we undo it, unblend from it?
Hooray for insights that keep coming back, the persistence of knowing who you really are.
SenseOrgan, I think you're really on to something. Shame protected us. It kept us small so we wouldn't be further smashed. It's something the nervous system does under threat.
And now, how can we undo it, unblend from it?
Hooray for insights that keep coming back, the persistence of knowing who you really are.
#4
Recovery Journals / Re: Post-Traumatic Growth Jour...
Last post by Papa Coco - Today at 03:02:35 PMSenseOrgan,
You are singing a song that plays in my psyche in a constantly repeating loop. Toxic shame. Imprisoning myself behind bars that aren't locked from the outside. I have, many times, said "Anything I say or do around my FOO can AND WILL be used against me eventually." I pasted mirror film on my front-facing windows so I could open my blinds in the daytime and still not be seen by neighbors. I hide in my house. I even blocked my front door from neighbor's views by parking a big utility trailer in front of it so I can open my door without anyone seeing me. I have mostly good neighbors, but I hide from them so that I won't get judged for how I walk or talk or dress or comb my hair. And to make this worse, I WANT CONNECTION WITH OTHERS while simultaneously hiding from others. We think the world is divided into right and left politics, but my insides are divided with the same duality! I want connection while I hide from connection. And it's painful.
When I read what you write, I feel like we're sharing a brain on some level and are both finding our own words to express the same affliction.
HUGS, brother! HUGS!!!!
You are singing a song that plays in my psyche in a constantly repeating loop. Toxic shame. Imprisoning myself behind bars that aren't locked from the outside. I have, many times, said "Anything I say or do around my FOO can AND WILL be used against me eventually." I pasted mirror film on my front-facing windows so I could open my blinds in the daytime and still not be seen by neighbors. I hide in my house. I even blocked my front door from neighbor's views by parking a big utility trailer in front of it so I can open my door without anyone seeing me. I have mostly good neighbors, but I hide from them so that I won't get judged for how I walk or talk or dress or comb my hair. And to make this worse, I WANT CONNECTION WITH OTHERS while simultaneously hiding from others. We think the world is divided into right and left politics, but my insides are divided with the same duality! I want connection while I hide from connection. And it's painful.
When I read what you write, I feel like we're sharing a brain on some level and are both finding our own words to express the same affliction.
HUGS, brother! HUGS!!!!
#5
Recovery Journals / Re: Papa Coco's Recovery Journ...
Last post by Papa Coco - Today at 02:45:16 PMDolly,
I have a great deal of respect for what you're saying about love being used as a way to tromp boundaries. That's such an insidious behavior in people who do that to anyone, but especially to their own children and grandchildren. I've been learning, here on the forum, to be careful to not use the hug emoji too much, unless I feel sure that the recipients are not triggered by them. Some are. And it's easily understandable that some of us are triggered even by the word love.
Your posts have always been helpful to me, and I've always felt a sort of a connection with you through them, and through the many helpful things you've said to me over the years.
The word Love has something like 52 meanings. We love pizza. We love movies. We love our car or a favorite piece of furniture. I hate one job and love another job. I have a romantic love with my wife, a fatherly love for my children, and another love for my pets, and so on. My favorite use for the word love is what the religious people call Agape. To me, that is a synonym for soul-to-soul connection. I didn't realize that meaning until my father-in-law passed away in 2000. He was one of my favorite people on the earth. And when he died unexpectedly at work, my heart went into a feeling I'd never experienced before. It felt to me like a 2-inch diameter tube had been yanked out of my chest, and my heart was hemorrhaging some sort of hot pain. My connection to him had been severed in a way that surprised me. I was Gushing pain from my heart. That's when I realized that we really are connected to some people through our hearts. It took a few weeks for that pain to subside, and that's when I started substituting that version of the word "love" with the word "connection." Now, I know that when my wife is in pain, or if she's late coming home from work, that it's in my chest that I feel sad or afraid for her safety. When my son is in pain or danger it's my heart that tells me I'm worried. When a neighbor is in pain, I don't feel it so strongly in my heart, because my connection to a neighbor isn't as strong as my connection to my son, or wife, or grandson.
I learned a lot about myself when my own parents died a decade after my Father-in-law did. In the 15 years since their deaths, I still haven't felt that pain in my heart like I did for my wife's parents. That told me something about my connections that I didn't see coming. In hindsight, I now can see that my father-in-law loved me with a healthier love than my parents did. We happily added a wing to our house and moved my Mother-in-law in with us. She lived with us for 14 more years, and all the while I kept telling Coco, "I'm happy to have your mom here, but no way would I EVER let my mom move in with us." With the exception of my baby sister's suicide that nearly killed me from heart-gushing pain, the rest of my family's love was more selfish, like what you said about your own family. My wife's family loved me for who I am. My own family loved what I could do for them--as long as I didn't embarrass them with my humiliating "empathy" problem. My brain was easily tricked, but my heart appears to have known the difference between the different variations of love that people have with or for me.
Love was used against me also. My BPD/Narcissist sister always loved me just before she took something from me or started another family smear campaign against me. My mom abused me in a variety of ways, including sexually-based boundary tromping, and always said it was because she loved me. I was always told to be nice to my mean siblings because we were a family bonded by love. So, even to this day, when I feel like I love someone, I have to ask myself if I'm being tricked or if my feelings are genuine love.
I use this as a litmus test; Sometimes I have friends who I wonder if I really love them. So I try to imagine that person leaving me or dying or suddenly turning against me (like my FOO and friends and churches did many, many, many times). If I sense a feeling of relief in my chest, then I know I don't really love them, but am just caught in another "fawning" behavior and being nice to them because I'm afraid not to. But if my heart hurts at the thought of losing the person, then I know I have some sense of love (Agape/soul-to-soul Connection) for them.
A few weeks back I did some self-evaluation. I started to ask myself what it was that drove my 4 genuine suicide attempts, the first two at age 19 and the final one at age 50. I have a family of my own now that I love with all my heart, so why did I feel myself being drawn into suicide? I thought and thought and thought. Then I wrote out what was happening in my life during each of the attempts, and VOILA! It hit me like a ton of bricks! Each time I felt uncontrollably drawn toward suicide, like a moth to a flame, I was feeling aggressively abandoned by someone I truly loved. (Perhaps there's a clue in this as to why I struggle so hard to forgive my siblings for how they used love as a leash to keep me in their service. They abused the single most important aspect of who I am: My need for connection)
Now I believe that I better understand how to manage my suicidality, which is pretty strong. I now know that when I'm left or abandoned by someone with whom I have a soul-to-soul connection, that the pain of feeling abandoned is too much for me to bear, and I need to call out for help, so as to not slide down that slope again into suicide. I now have the proof that I needed to believe that my life really, truly is about connection with others. Obviously, that's why I get so sappy when I talk about how helpful the people here on this forum are. Nobody here wants anything from me except connection.
It was how people abused my need for connection with others that hurt me almost to death, and it's connection with others that raises me back up out of the pits of despair. I feel like I'm being literal when I say "I live for connection."
-----TRIGGER WARNING: I didn't have a good experience in churches or religions-----
It's not the same as human love, this is some sort of deeply spiritual need that I have to not be alone in the Universe. I left religion about the same time my FIL died, because the religious people who were in my life were consistently more about faking love, and using it as a word they didn't truly understand. It's been my own personal experience that religious people have proven to be the most dangerous for me, in that they will withdraw their version of love the quickest if I don't behave how they want me to. My family was Catholic. My wife's family, who didn't go to church, gave me a love that was genuine and real. They didn't use it as a tool with which to control me.
I have a great deal of respect for what you're saying about love being used as a way to tromp boundaries. That's such an insidious behavior in people who do that to anyone, but especially to their own children and grandchildren. I've been learning, here on the forum, to be careful to not use the hug emoji too much, unless I feel sure that the recipients are not triggered by them. Some are. And it's easily understandable that some of us are triggered even by the word love.
Your posts have always been helpful to me, and I've always felt a sort of a connection with you through them, and through the many helpful things you've said to me over the years.
The word Love has something like 52 meanings. We love pizza. We love movies. We love our car or a favorite piece of furniture. I hate one job and love another job. I have a romantic love with my wife, a fatherly love for my children, and another love for my pets, and so on. My favorite use for the word love is what the religious people call Agape. To me, that is a synonym for soul-to-soul connection. I didn't realize that meaning until my father-in-law passed away in 2000. He was one of my favorite people on the earth. And when he died unexpectedly at work, my heart went into a feeling I'd never experienced before. It felt to me like a 2-inch diameter tube had been yanked out of my chest, and my heart was hemorrhaging some sort of hot pain. My connection to him had been severed in a way that surprised me. I was Gushing pain from my heart. That's when I realized that we really are connected to some people through our hearts. It took a few weeks for that pain to subside, and that's when I started substituting that version of the word "love" with the word "connection." Now, I know that when my wife is in pain, or if she's late coming home from work, that it's in my chest that I feel sad or afraid for her safety. When my son is in pain or danger it's my heart that tells me I'm worried. When a neighbor is in pain, I don't feel it so strongly in my heart, because my connection to a neighbor isn't as strong as my connection to my son, or wife, or grandson.
I learned a lot about myself when my own parents died a decade after my Father-in-law did. In the 15 years since their deaths, I still haven't felt that pain in my heart like I did for my wife's parents. That told me something about my connections that I didn't see coming. In hindsight, I now can see that my father-in-law loved me with a healthier love than my parents did. We happily added a wing to our house and moved my Mother-in-law in with us. She lived with us for 14 more years, and all the while I kept telling Coco, "I'm happy to have your mom here, but no way would I EVER let my mom move in with us." With the exception of my baby sister's suicide that nearly killed me from heart-gushing pain, the rest of my family's love was more selfish, like what you said about your own family. My wife's family loved me for who I am. My own family loved what I could do for them--as long as I didn't embarrass them with my humiliating "empathy" problem. My brain was easily tricked, but my heart appears to have known the difference between the different variations of love that people have with or for me.
Love was used against me also. My BPD/Narcissist sister always loved me just before she took something from me or started another family smear campaign against me. My mom abused me in a variety of ways, including sexually-based boundary tromping, and always said it was because she loved me. I was always told to be nice to my mean siblings because we were a family bonded by love. So, even to this day, when I feel like I love someone, I have to ask myself if I'm being tricked or if my feelings are genuine love.
I use this as a litmus test; Sometimes I have friends who I wonder if I really love them. So I try to imagine that person leaving me or dying or suddenly turning against me (like my FOO and friends and churches did many, many, many times). If I sense a feeling of relief in my chest, then I know I don't really love them, but am just caught in another "fawning" behavior and being nice to them because I'm afraid not to. But if my heart hurts at the thought of losing the person, then I know I have some sense of love (Agape/soul-to-soul Connection) for them.
A few weeks back I did some self-evaluation. I started to ask myself what it was that drove my 4 genuine suicide attempts, the first two at age 19 and the final one at age 50. I have a family of my own now that I love with all my heart, so why did I feel myself being drawn into suicide? I thought and thought and thought. Then I wrote out what was happening in my life during each of the attempts, and VOILA! It hit me like a ton of bricks! Each time I felt uncontrollably drawn toward suicide, like a moth to a flame, I was feeling aggressively abandoned by someone I truly loved. (Perhaps there's a clue in this as to why I struggle so hard to forgive my siblings for how they used love as a leash to keep me in their service. They abused the single most important aspect of who I am: My need for connection)
Now I believe that I better understand how to manage my suicidality, which is pretty strong. I now know that when I'm left or abandoned by someone with whom I have a soul-to-soul connection, that the pain of feeling abandoned is too much for me to bear, and I need to call out for help, so as to not slide down that slope again into suicide. I now have the proof that I needed to believe that my life really, truly is about connection with others. Obviously, that's why I get so sappy when I talk about how helpful the people here on this forum are. Nobody here wants anything from me except connection.
It was how people abused my need for connection with others that hurt me almost to death, and it's connection with others that raises me back up out of the pits of despair. I feel like I'm being literal when I say "I live for connection."
-----TRIGGER WARNING: I didn't have a good experience in churches or religions-----
It's not the same as human love, this is some sort of deeply spiritual need that I have to not be alone in the Universe. I left religion about the same time my FIL died, because the religious people who were in my life were consistently more about faking love, and using it as a word they didn't truly understand. It's been my own personal experience that religious people have proven to be the most dangerous for me, in that they will withdraw their version of love the quickest if I don't behave how they want me to. My family was Catholic. My wife's family, who didn't go to church, gave me a love that was genuine and real. They didn't use it as a tool with which to control me.
#6
Successes, Progress? / Re: Post-Traumatic Joy
Last post by SenseOrgan - Today at 01:08:58 PMQuote from: Dalloway on January 18, 2026, 05:10:22 PMI would say YOU GO GIRL...but it would be weird, wouldn´t it?
Yes it would be 🤣. I couldn't stop laughing. Thanks for that. Cheers!
Here's to silliness Dalloway and Chart 🥂
#7
Recovery Journals / Re: Miscellaneous ramblings of...
Last post by dollyvee - Today at 12:09:49 PMI'm sorry NK
I know what that's like. It's like you're invaded, at least to me. I woke up the other morning thinking about how I had The Tibetan Book of the Dead when I was a teenager, and how when I went there my gm expressed what a connection she had to that place, not so much about my trip or interests. It was about her. I have come back to Tibetan Buddhism and it has had a big impact on me. I don't even realize that I say mantras most days as a form of "protection" and understanding, and I feel like perhaps this connection is partly obscured because it was "taken" from me. I'm sorry your m is trying to take something from you that you find important and enjoy.
I know what that's like. It's like you're invaded, at least to me. I woke up the other morning thinking about how I had The Tibetan Book of the Dead when I was a teenager, and how when I went there my gm expressed what a connection she had to that place, not so much about my trip or interests. It was about her. I have come back to Tibetan Buddhism and it has had a big impact on me. I don't even realize that I say mantras most days as a form of "protection" and understanding, and I feel like perhaps this connection is partly obscured because it was "taken" from me. I'm sorry your m is trying to take something from you that you find important and enjoy.
#8
Recovery Journals / Re: Post-Traumatic Growth Jour...
Last post by SenseOrgan - Today at 11:43:59 AMThanks for your support guys!
Anything you are can and will be used against you is a message that's deeply ingrained in my psyche. Individuation equaled rejection when I was sculpted. It was the maternal reality that significantly shaped my sense of self and other. I did become a person, but I learned that it isn't safe to be that one in interaction with others. I developed a survival self, and a self that was hidden. Dismantling my survival self is an ongoing project, as is connecting authentically. It matters a great deal who it is that I connect with in this regard. There used to be no one I felt safe around being me. Even though it could be very subtle too, I was always on guard around others. I was constantly assessing what about me would be welcome and what not, and acting accordingly. Part of it is sane and civil, part of it is self-censorship I could do without. I want to do without. A lot has changed for the better, but I'm tired of being scared to be seen when I set foot in my front yard, and having the blinds down 24/7. My lived experience is that evil eye is still watching me.
This morning I woke up, way too early, with an insight. An insight that seems to land deeper with each cycle of forgetting and re-gaining it. This iteration presented itself as the realization that toxic shame is something I "do" myself. Nobody else. It's an attack on parts of myself that I've learned are dangerous to include. I reject those parts myself before others can. It's me rejecting me as a means to gain a sense of safety in social interactions. I've learned that in order to be safe, I need to not exist. Toxic shame is an existential auto-immune disease.
Once again I saw clearly that toxic shame is an inhibitory emotion that keeps me from existing [see the AEDP Change Triangle]. It's a large part of the prison that I'm in. It was threatening to my mother if I was different and confident, so she blamed and shamed me into this developmental arrest. I derive a sense of safety from making myself small. There are many subtle ways I have undermined my own worth and dignity, and I highly doubt I'm aware of all of it. I noticed that it's scary to let go of that and to embrace who I am underneath that suffocating blanket. All things dangerous and vulnerable. I feel empowered looking through this lens though. There is no one else but me who keeps this toxic shame going. There is no one else who has the power to change that. There is no getting rid of toxic shame. There is sinking into what I already am underneath it. Truly accepting me is being me in interaction also. I started out disowning parts of me to survive. Now I want to disown what never was me to live.
Quote from: HannahOne on January 10, 2026, 05:14:53 PMLearned helplessness is real,Thanks for the reminder HannahOne. That term hadn't been on my radar for a long time. This is indeed what's happening under high stress, when I don't see the options that I do have as an adult.
Anything you are can and will be used against you is a message that's deeply ingrained in my psyche. Individuation equaled rejection when I was sculpted. It was the maternal reality that significantly shaped my sense of self and other. I did become a person, but I learned that it isn't safe to be that one in interaction with others. I developed a survival self, and a self that was hidden. Dismantling my survival self is an ongoing project, as is connecting authentically. It matters a great deal who it is that I connect with in this regard. There used to be no one I felt safe around being me. Even though it could be very subtle too, I was always on guard around others. I was constantly assessing what about me would be welcome and what not, and acting accordingly. Part of it is sane and civil, part of it is self-censorship I could do without. I want to do without. A lot has changed for the better, but I'm tired of being scared to be seen when I set foot in my front yard, and having the blinds down 24/7. My lived experience is that evil eye is still watching me.
This morning I woke up, way too early, with an insight. An insight that seems to land deeper with each cycle of forgetting and re-gaining it. This iteration presented itself as the realization that toxic shame is something I "do" myself. Nobody else. It's an attack on parts of myself that I've learned are dangerous to include. I reject those parts myself before others can. It's me rejecting me as a means to gain a sense of safety in social interactions. I've learned that in order to be safe, I need to not exist. Toxic shame is an existential auto-immune disease.
Once again I saw clearly that toxic shame is an inhibitory emotion that keeps me from existing [see the AEDP Change Triangle]. It's a large part of the prison that I'm in. It was threatening to my mother if I was different and confident, so she blamed and shamed me into this developmental arrest. I derive a sense of safety from making myself small. There are many subtle ways I have undermined my own worth and dignity, and I highly doubt I'm aware of all of it. I noticed that it's scary to let go of that and to embrace who I am underneath that suffocating blanket. All things dangerous and vulnerable. I feel empowered looking through this lens though. There is no one else but me who keeps this toxic shame going. There is no one else who has the power to change that. There is no getting rid of toxic shame. There is sinking into what I already am underneath it. Truly accepting me is being me in interaction also. I started out disowning parts of me to survive. Now I want to disown what never was me to live.
#9
Recovery Journals / Re: Papa Coco's Recovery Journ...
Last post by dollyvee - Today at 10:02:47 AMHey PC,
That's great that you've made that progress for yourself Really, what an achievement.
For me, this is the tricky part. I had the experience where I was "loved" to the point of having no boundaries where FOO did things because they really "loved" me (well, they loved themselves). So, when people come too close like that it mimics the lack of space and self that I had with my gm. I also think, and I'm figuring out how all this scapegoating stuff applies to me, that I do one of the behaviours that scapegoated children do, which is called stuffing. That I don't express emotions etc because that was used against me. So, on the one hand I had to be extra open with my gm for example, but on the other with my m, I had to have this tough exterior (and the main thing is that no one did anything about it). When people are that open with me, I can't help to think what is their underlying motivation for doing so because with FOO it always came with strings attached, which I can understand would be triggering for those who wer cast out, or abandoned by their families. I think it's just a question of what our window of tolerance is.
Sending you support,
dolly
That's great that you've made that progress for yourself
Really, what an achievement.Quote from: Papa Coco on Today at 03:36:11 AMMy need to be emotionally "felt" by others, makes me quick to believe that's what others want also. I like being with people who want to feel cared about, and who want to care about others. So, I find myself wanting to share myself with people while they share themselves with me...emotionally. I assume that other people want to be heard and believed and cared about as much as I do.
For me, this is the tricky part. I had the experience where I was "loved" to the point of having no boundaries where FOO did things because they really "loved" me (well, they loved themselves). So, when people come too close like that it mimics the lack of space and self that I had with my gm. I also think, and I'm figuring out how all this scapegoating stuff applies to me, that I do one of the behaviours that scapegoated children do, which is called stuffing. That I don't express emotions etc because that was used against me. So, on the one hand I had to be extra open with my gm for example, but on the other with my m, I had to have this tough exterior (and the main thing is that no one did anything about it). When people are that open with me, I can't help to think what is their underlying motivation for doing so because with FOO it always came with strings attached, which I can understand would be triggering for those who wer cast out, or abandoned by their families. I think it's just a question of what our window of tolerance is.
Sending you support,
dolly
#10
Recovery Journals / Re: Hope's Journal 2026
Last post by Hope67 - Today at 09:54:52 AMHi SanMagic, Thank you
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24th January 2026
Just copying some notes I made about ANGER, so I can tear up the paper copy, but keep the notes in this journal.
Unfortunately I don't know what source I found these notes in.
These are the notes I took:
Emotion as a houseguest - showing up to tell you something. Open the door. Give them a moment to connect with you. Go on with the rest of your day.
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Anger - It's not a bad feeling, but when we ignore or project it, it can lead to unhelpful reactions.
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Anger - helps us speak up when we've been hurt.
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Anger - helps us identify and protect our boundaries.
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Shadow work (Jung) - meet those hidden parts with curiosity and compassion.
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24th January 2026
Just copying some notes I made about ANGER, so I can tear up the paper copy, but keep the notes in this journal.
Unfortunately I don't know what source I found these notes in.
These are the notes I took:
Emotion as a houseguest - showing up to tell you something. Open the door. Give them a moment to connect with you. Go on with the rest of your day.
***
Anger - It's not a bad feeling, but when we ignore or project it, it can lead to unhelpful reactions.
***
Anger - helps us speak up when we've been hurt.
***
Anger - helps us identify and protect our boundaries.
***
Shadow work (Jung) - meet those hidden parts with curiosity and compassion.