Men's Group
Related: About this forumLack of male role models, abusive childhood, subsequent self hatred.
Guys, I would like your thoughts on something. This post really would be better in the MH Support forum, EXCEPT, I guess I am looking very specifically on thoughts about the link between the lack of an appropriate father figure as a kid and the type of self-image and self-esteem that causes a man to have as an adult. I am desperately trying to "put the puzzle pieces together" and understand something about myself, which is why I have this utterly horrible self-image which doesn't at all confirm with objective reality. Obviously, my father really destroyed my self-esteem, but to the extremes I take it to? All of this revolves around concepts of masculinity in some weird way.
I know, this is a strange request, strange post, but I really need perspectives and help with this, it is a big piece of the puzzle of what I have been going through for the last year, which has been really rough on me, and I am trying to "fix it" in every way possible.
If anyone can help me understand this, a most heartfelt thanks.
This is something that happened a couple of nights ago, and this is the narrative of it I shared with my therapist yesterday. Kind of graphic, but we're all adults here:
I got really triggered last night and lost it, not so much a fearful memory but a very sad one. I was doing my workout with my PT. They have an area outside behind the club set up for their boot camp program, and we go out there as much as possible, it's just the two of us, a lot nicer than inside where it's always crowded at night. So, I was kind of struggling last night to get through this thing because I still have a pretty bad cold, fever, and I could tell I was pretty weak. Towards the end, I was really struggling to do vertical rows with 35lb-ers, and I had to drop them and quit mid-set. So, I sat down and grabbed my water, and said something like "sorry I'm so weak". My PT looks at me and says something to the effect of " you're not weak, you're awesome. You're one of the strongest guys I know, you always give me 100% no matter what. And, you're my favorite client because of that, I have clients who ***** and moan that it's too hard, they won't push and then they wonder why they don't see results. You never complain, so stop being so hard on yourself."
So, really nice compliment. Genuine, sincerely, heartfelt.
What do I do? - I start crying.
It was triggering on three levels. The biggest thing, which got me going, was the immediate thought that came into my mind: "Where in the Fuck where you when I was 7?" Because for whatever reason, I flashed back to one of my single most painful memories, which is ironic based on what it is, because this hurt me more, still festers more as a psychological wound, than all of the memories of the violent moments growing up where he was threatening us. When I was 7, 2nd grade, when spring came and baseball season started, it was "the" thing at school on the playground during recess. Pretty much all of the boys had mitts and balls, and would throw and catch, etc. I guess probably quite a few were in Little League or something. Anyway, I desperately wanted to do that, and I remember kind of pleading to get mitt and ball. So, I came home from school this one afternoon, kind of hazy milky blue white sky with cirrus clouds and weak sunshine, kind of coolish, like maybe 60, early spring, like say mid-April, I remember there were a lot of crocus blooming. My mom gives me a real mitt and a softball. I was thrilled. So, I remember fooling around with it a little while. i got home from school a little after 4. He always got home from work about 5:30. when he got home, dinner had to be ready right at 6:00. So, at dinner I guess I got brave, I asked him to teach me how to throw and catch. After dinner, I always had to clear the table and help by drying dishes, and I was really excited. He was weird, like always, irritable, distant.
So, I kind of whined and pleaded, and my mother kind of ordered him - it was weird, he wanted to control everything of significance, but he would do trivial things if she pushed it - and he did it. Got up, we went out in the back yard, I had my glove and the ball, I threw it to him, poorly, he chased it and threw it back, I of course didn't catch it, I got it, pitched it back, he threw it back to me, turned around, didn't say a word, and went back into the house. And pulled the bedroom curtains. And I just stood there and probably moped a while, fooled around with the ball. When I went in, I knew exactly what I would find, Freakshow sitting on the sofa staring into space with his bra, panties, silk stockings, garter belts, and silky negligée/robe thingy. A very well-padded bra I should add, he liked the Dolly Parton/Pamela Anderson look.
So, that was the total extent of being taught the game of baseball. Not that I'm bitter about it or anything (yeah, not much).
I started crying because I desperately needed a real father in my life, someone like my PT who would have told me how great I could be with effort and time, not this Freudian nightmare who constantly ran me down, called me names like the "f" word, told me I was garbage and would never amount to anything. First trigger, lack of a real father figure. Second trigger, being complimented as opposed to being run down.
For context with this next part, keep in mind that my father constantly belittled, tormented, denigrated me, especially about anything having to do with masculinity. Pure projection on his part, but it took its toll on me in a major way, hence how I feel about myself.
Third trigger was internal. Of course I can't take compliments. How could I be strong or awesome or his favorite client? Because I am the scum of the earth, worse than any rapist or murderer or pedophile, and what they really should do is take me down to the bottom of that steep hill behind the club and put a bullet through my brain because I don't deserve to live I'm such a vile stain on humanity. Like one of those scenes they show on news or documentaries about how they execute the condemned in China, hands tied behind the back, blindfolded, kneeling, and the uniformed executioner puts a pistol to the back of the guy's head, fires, and the guy goes down.
I don't know what my crime is, I feel like I'm an innocent man, a good guy, but in my mind I know what my punishment should be. Which kind of scares me, I have always thought on some level I would ultimately snap and take myself out. I still feel that way, in fact, at some point I just won't be able to take the pain any more and I'll do it. That scares me. And, I literally came seconds away from it last year at my low point. And it's always a gun, I never think about something clean like Carbon monoxide, gotta be a gun. The only time I thought of another method was a while last year when the concept of driving into concrete or a big tree at 90 mph was appealing.
And I SO DON'T WANT THAT. Hence the psychiatrists and therapist and Prozac and various doctors and trainers and dietician and posting on Internet support sites and new wardrobe and cycling and running and so on and so forth.
Wilms
(26,795 posts)Who are your role models? And I mean YOUR role models...that you've chosen?
While your father may always lurk in the back of your mind, there are others who SEE you for who you are. You are seeing you through your father's eye, not theirs.
Why did your PT say what he did? Why does that kid down the block like you? Or the owner of the local store? See what I'm asking?
Denninmi
(6,581 posts)The first one - I can't think of a single person, known to me personally or just publicly that I would consider a role model. People I admire greatly, of course, such as Hillary or Jimmy Carter or the Obama's. A few people I knew in my life that were brilliant, a couple of former professors and teachers. I really admire my one BIL, and my boss and co-worker, a minister I know as a client. But no one I would view as a role model. Just the anti-role model I had as a child. Maybe that's a problem.
You are correct, and your second paragraph and your second set of questions are exactly the same ones my therapist asks frequently. The answer is ... Because they see good traits in me, I am kind and friendly and generous and genuinely concerned for people I know, and for society in general. I can recognize these intellectually, it's emotionally I really struggle. Very irrational, perhaps bordering on the paranoid of myself?
Thank you for your response, I appreciate it and it's insightful and helpful.
Wilms
(26,795 posts)Even if you don't identify a given person as a role model, there are ways of being you prefer and aspire to that are role model-like. (You wouldn't be wrestling these issues if you were short of the good stuff that makes wrestling these issues possible. Just sayin'.)
And of your PT and others--they see your good traits, and I'll venture so do YOU as evidenced by your sobbing at the PT's provocation. You, emotionally, knew what he said was true. You were elated with the confirmation and too tired from the physical exercise to let your dad get in the way of you seeing reality. So you cried. I hope you cried from your seven year old space (it's still in there, of course). Indeed, "where was" this man, any MAN, when you were seven? That, and hearing the truth about you is sob-worthy stuff. Good for you, I should add!
Knowing this, intellectually, emotionally and quite painfully as well, suggests to me you have another role model. You. THAT you. The you that knows these things at times joyfully, and at others, painfully, and often both at the same time--bittersweet.
Internalize that.
BTW, tell the next seven year old you see just how wonderful they are. K?
Thanks, you made my day! Very grateful.
lumberjack_jeff
(33,224 posts)Boys who grow up with no men (not "male", but "men" role models either internalize the attitudes of their mothers, aunts and sisters, or they reject them and adopt the attitudes of masculinity that are invented by 12 year old boys imagination.
From the perspective of social behavior, the former may have some advantages, but from the perspective of personal self-esteem and self-respect the latter may have some advantages. "Manners" usually comes with healthy helping of self-loathing.
The capacity of your father to mess up your psychological health is the flipside of a father's capacity to build good psychological health. Your experience, and the experience of others who experienced similar neglect and abuse shows how important a job being a father is.
Am I explaining myself clearly? If fatherhood was superfluous and unimportant, bad ones wouldn't have much effect.
Society is willing to do little to fix this problem. Schools hire women to teach girls to become teachers. Moms raise daughters to become custodial parents. The boys who enter their spheres of influence learn their roles as worker drones, on the periphery.
Warren DeMontague
(80,708 posts)I found your last couple paragraphs troubling. Obviously- it should go without saying, but I've noticed that one of the games certain obsessive characters play around this group is that shit that is flat-out fucking obvious and goes without saying needs to be said in all bold letters, and even when it is, people will still try to accuse you of not saying it. But here goes;
if you are feeling suicidal, get help. Not the sort of help that you can get from DU, but professional. Immediately. Call a hotline. Contact your therapist, or go to the Hospital.
I'm sure you know this, and again it should go without saying. But I'm saying it.
You've written about your stuff before, and for what little it's worth, I sympathize. I am sorry you are hurting and have had to walk this path. I have mentioned previously that my own relationship with my Father was, for lack of a better word, lacking. He was drunk, then he was gone. We reconciled later, before his passing, but there was always a distance between us. Nothing could make up for what wasn't there, early on.
In retrospect I have learned to sort of look objectively at the situation that faced both my parents, married far too early and trying to shoehorn their life into a sort of leave it to beaver reality which didn't suit either of them. In this regard they were not so different from many others of their generation, I think. Seeing the "walking wounded" of that era, the men and women living unhappy lives trying to play a part in a drama they didn't like, and then the inevitable implosion which took place in the late 70s when all those nuclear families fissioned- well, I suppose it might have made me committed to foisting some alternate vision on society or something, but what I walked away with was a firm belief that people need to be able to make up their own damn minds about their own damn lives, to follow their bliss as the old hackneyed hippie aphorism states.
I went through my own black, angst-ridden days, fortunately I experience them less than I did in my youth, but still when confronted with those sorts of existential crises I fall back upon what I suppose can only be described as patchwork, DIY Deadhead Eastern philosophy, one cornerstone of which is the knowledge- liberating and frightening at the same time- that nothing, NOTHING is permanent.
It is interesting, to me, that the most terrifying truths can also be the most comforting. We're only here for a brief blip. All our pain, all our joy, that which imprisons us and that which defines us, our triumphs and our tragedies... give it just a little minute, and it'll blow away.
I don't know if this helps, but I do know that our past does not need to own us. All there is is this moment. That's all there ever is.
radicalliberal
(907 posts). . . severe as yours, I feel that our two individual situations are quite similar. I have no difficulty at all with identifying with what you have said in your OP.
I almost hesitated to post, because those who have already posted ahead of me have said a lot and have expressed themselves better than I am about to do. But I still felt the need to post because I feel that we share so much in common.
I hope you realize that your father was guilty of self-projection to the extreme when he tore you down. He hated himself and projected that hatred through you. Some may object to what I'm about to say, but I don't care. Denninmi, your father was an evil man. If he had not been your father, he still would have acted the same way. You did not choose him. You were an innocent child. I am a father of two young daughters, both of whom have turned out to be better human beings than I was at their ages. If I had been your father, I would have been extremely proud of you; and I would have let you know that.
I know it's a cliche, but I feel your pain. At least to a degree. I never bonded with my dad. When I was a kid, I was ashamed of being scrawny. Perhaps I was guilty of self-projection of my own when I'd see him walking around the house in his boxer shorts. I thought his chubby physique (replete with chicken legs) was ugly, just as I viewed myself as not being very masculine. So, when I saw my sixth-grade P.E. coach on the first day of school, I thought He's stronger than my dad. He's better looking than my dad. I wish he were my dad. Of course, since mandatory boys' P.E. was exclusively centered around sports and I was not good at or even interested in any sport, I was invisible to him. Once he took the class out to the field behind the school building for a game of football. I was quite dismayed by what was about to happen; so, I had to tell him, "Coach, I don't even know how the game of football is played." He simply responded in a near robotic tone of voice, "Just stand in the field somewhere." I was amazed. I had feared he would yell at me or humiliate me. I almost wish he had. What he actually said amazed me, as if many of the boys in his P.E. classes had told him they didn't know how football was played. I didn't realize it at the time, but his non-response haunted me. Although throughout my life I've tended to be a loner more or less, I still felt excluded from the community of boys and felt inferior as a result.
As I've said on more than one occasion (in this forum as well as others at other websites), I've been working with a personal trainer on a bodybuilding program at a local health club. Actually, I've worked with a succession of PTs, as each one has gone on to different jobs. The experience has been psychologically therapeutic as well as physically beneficial. When I was a boy, for different reasons I was nervous around and even feared any guy who had a muscular build. In high school I had no desire to have anything to do with any of the football players -- as I thought they all probably viewed me as being inferior, anyway. But at my health club I've had positive relationships with all of my PTs, all of whom are young athletic guys. Mandatory P.E. was a nightmare for me, but I feel like I belong at my health club.
I've said all this to try to establish common ground with you. Please, man, don't let your father drag you down! You don't deserve that! Please remember that you're not alone. More than a few men have had bad fathers, who never deserved the privilege of becoming one.
(For the record, my father was not abusive. To the contrary, he was a very good man. I learned valuable lessons from his example. He didn't need to lecture to me. Lectures aren't always effective, anyway. His problem was he didn't know how to be a father. He even admitted this to one of the members of his family. His mother had been married and divorced five times, if I remember correctly. So, he did not grow up with a constant role model in his home as he grew up. I say this so no one will think I'm badmouthing my dad.)
I know you have a problem accepting compliments, but please accept mine! You have already shown yourself to be a strong man. You put out your best efforts in your workouts. Above all, you have survived all the abuse you suffered as you were growing up; and you're dealing with your problems. You have not given up. As far as I'm concerned, this is high praise! What you need to do is look to the future more than you do the past. This is something I also need to do. I didn't even begin to understand the misery of my boyhood and adolescence until I was 57 years old in the summer of 2007, which also was the time I joined my health club. I was definitely short-changed in more ways than one when I was a teenager. Now I have to deal with diabetes and a chronic sleep disorder. (As you know, good sleep is essential for bodybuilding.) But in addition to mustering enough self-discipline to overcome my sleep disorder over time, I also have to look forward to the future. Again, I'm trying to establish common ground here.
I repeat Warren's concern: If you are feeling suicidal, get professional help! We are on your side, and we are pulling for you. I dare say that we love you and that you're not alone! You will be victorious, my friend!
Denninmi
(6,581 posts)I know, kind of dark. I'm ok, really, I've survived far too much to throw in the towel now. I had the opportunity to do that a year ago and made the choice to really live, not just exist day to day. It's just been a tough thing, the challenge of my life. I have no intention of ever going down that road. One thing about me, when I want something, I just do it and get it done, so bluntly, if I had wanted to end it, it would have been over a year ago without any publicity of this type.
I want to respond in detail, but I have a lot of things on the agenda, so it will be later.
Again, just so no one gets the wrong idea, I'm fine, I have a lot of things going for me and a lot of future plans. Including one big goal, I already signed up for triathlon training in January.
So, yes, I'll be around DU to cause problems for a long time.
Thanks, have a good one. Later.
opiate69
(10,129 posts)Threads like this, and the great responses to it, are a big reason this group shows up as my favorite. I hope you're doing well, Den.
lumberjack_jeff
(33,224 posts)Denninmi
(6,581 posts)Last edited Wed Sep 25, 2013, 03:08 AM - Edit history (1)
Not great, but better. I had a good session today with my therapist, we discuss these things in depth, obviously, and I revisited this topic from last week. She feels that it is just a matter of reprogramming the inner dialogue away from such extreme negativity to bring positive about myself. We discussed all of the good qualities I have, all of the positives in my life, and I left there feeling pretty good about myself.
It's just going to take a lot of work to win the internal battle.
lumberjack_jeff
(33,224 posts)"When my wife and I are arguing, I'll go out for a run. By mile 2, I forget what we were arguing about. By mile 3, I forget that we were arguing at all. By mile 4, I forget that I'm married."
Denninmi
(6,581 posts)I liked what the owner of the bike shop told me:
"What is the ideal number of bikes to own? One fewer than it takes to get divorced."