Dear Sisters,
As I shared with you before, my role with Children’s Services was
to investigate and assess reported allegations of child abuse/neglect. When talking
with parents I always asked about their life growing up. Time and time
again, once I heard a parent’s own childhood story it made me realize people
don’t hurt their children because they are “bad parents” or stupid. People hurt
their children because they are emotionally and psychologically wounded. When
their wounds are triggered, they react. They don’t know how to change, or what
else to do.
We all do the best we can with what we have. If we want to do
things differently, if we want more harmony and peace in our relationships, if we want to have better coping skills when difficulties come along, we need first to
understand our inner world and what happens inside us when difficulties arise
and we are triggered. We also need to heal our emotional/psychological
wounds. And we need tools that really work to help us understand so that we can heal. When we master the tools, our
life and our relationships change.
During my own healing journey the first step toward understanding
my inner world was when I learned about ‘disproportionate and recurrent
reactions’ (drr). (See explanation below.) Understanding drr’s helped me
understand why I felt and acted the way I did. I experienced great relief at
this new learning because I realized I was not “just crazy” or bad. There were
good reasons why I felt the way I did. This is not about excusing behaviour;
it’s about understanding it. The first step toward changing is to understand
why we feel and act the way we do.
A disproportionate and recurrent reaction (DRR) is a phenomenon of
the sensibility which given similar circumstances, always reacts out of
proportion to the circumstances that triggered it. These reactions can range
from explosion, anger, aggressiveness or excitability on the one hand, to
sadness, depression, dejection, flight, or even insensibility and suppression
on the other.
- Persons and their growth: The
anthropological and psychological foundations of PRH education, published by
PRH-International (1997) p. 277.
It is important to note: The sensibility is one of five pivotal
centres within the human person where feelings and emotions are experienced as
sensations with psychological content, as opposed to purely physical
sensations.
The nervous system acts somewhat like a “tape recorder”, keeping
track of all the events of persons’ lifetime... The sensibility therefore plays
a fundamental role in the process of self-knowledge because of its functions:
to feel, to resonate, to transmit, record and reproduce messages.
- Persons and their growth p.100
We all have disproportionate and recurrent reactions. We
recognize our reaction is disproportionate in the face a person or event when
strong, or painful emotions are triggered. When this happens we tend to either
blame the other person for our feelings or put ourselves down for having these
feelings. You’ve heard the saying, “She knows how to push my buttons!” We talk
about people having ‘baggage’ and how their baggage causes problems for
us. This tells us we all have disproportionate reactions at times to what
others say or do, or to some event that we have difficulty responding to in an
appropriate, balanced way. We usually dislike ourselves or feel
self-disappointment for over-reacting.
Some of us recognize that our reaction is disproportionate, but
don’t know what to do about it; we feel we have no control at the time. We
might notice these disproportionate reactions usually recur over and over
under similar circumstances. Others are not aware their reaction is
disproportionate and simply justify their reaction by blaming the other person
and placing themselves in the role of a victim.
Some immediately suppress their feelings and withdraw into themselves.
Suppression is a disproportionate reaction designed to protect us from experiencing feelings that threaten to overwhelm us. Suppression can sometimes be
manifested in physical symptoms such as migraines, nausea, or stiffness in the
jaw, neck and shoulders, etc.
Regardless of the way our DRR is manifested, in the privacy of our
own mind we have a dialogue with our self about who we are. And it is
usually negative. We either tell ourselves “That’s just me, I have a short
fuse” or we feel victimized, or we feel overwhelmed.
Our reactions never help to resolve the problem and often make it worse.
We don’t have to have these outcomes. Disproportionate and
recurring reactions, while understandable, are toxic. They poison our
relationships and they poison our self-esteem. They can leave us feeling sad or
depressed. When our ensuing inner dialogue nurtures a negative
self-image, nothing changes and we just settle into being the same person we
were yesterday. Weeks, months, years go by and we haven’t changed much and our
DRR’s continue. We settle into a less-than-satisfying way of living while we
wear an “I’m OK” face for the world. Our emotional maturity is stunted and we
are stuck.
Up until I committed to my healing journey I used to have a great
many disproportionate and recurring reactions! I was easily triggered. Mostly I
lived a victim role – I was powerless and it was always someone else’s fault. I often felt misunderstood. I felt helpless, and I was unable to change
myself or the other person. I was afraid to address issues with others
because I didn’t know how to do so without the risk of losing the others’
goodwill, friendship, or love. I believed if I disturbed the equilibrium of
others I would not be liked, and I desperately needed to be liked. I didn’t
realize it at the time but I had felt unloved, unwanted and rejected my whole
life. I didn’t believe I was entitled to disturb anyone with my problems.
I grew up believing I was a nuisance and a burden and I should not bother
anyone. I developed a habit of suppressing my feelings, storing them
inside myself until a “last straw” event occurred, then I would explode in a
rage.
As a child I repressed the outrage I felt about the humiliations
and indignities I was forced to endure. I desperately needed to feel loved and
I blamed myself for not being loveable, or even likeable. By the time I reached
adolescence I held a deep belief that not only was I unlovable and a nuisance
for existing, my body was not my own – my body belonged to someone else. All
the rage I felt about that was repressed and I developed a strong dissociative
mechanism in order to survive. I did not feel safe, not even in my own body. At
the same time I dreaded rejection. Rejection felt like the annihilation of my
soul. I didn’t speak up for myself. I carried all these buried, repressed
feelings (my baggage) into adult life. As an adult my childhood memories were mere fragments and incomplete. I had relegated most of my memories to some unconscious,
amnestic place inside me. The painful, repressed emotional wounds became
my “buttons” – my triggers.
As an adult, a wife, and a mother, I always felt I had to please
others. I did not know how to assert myself. I was a passive doormat. And as I
said, something would happen that proved to be too much. It didn’t have to
be something big – it was just “a last straw” event. I would burst into a rage
(a very obvious disproportionate reaction!). I didn’t understand at the time
that the “last straw” event was simply an event that triggered the rage
I kept repressed for years. The “last straw” was more than my internal system
could handle and a rage from deep inside would burst forth and spew out onto
anyone who was in the way.
During this time I had no conscious understanding of why I was so
enraged. I was aware only of the immediate event – the trigger. I hated myself
for it. I would berate myself so badly and feel terrible self-loathing. I would
try desperately to escape these feelings and turned to food. I tried to numb
myself. Food was my way to self-medicate. I tried to fill up a big emptiness
inside. The emptiness was like a deep black hole of desolation and anguish and
loneliness and self-loathing. My inner dialogue about how bad and utterly
unlovable I was fed my very negative self-image. I believed there was something
wrong with me.
From there I would move into a phase of trying so hard to be
different – trying to please everyone, trying to be agreeable, desperate to
make amends for my rage. And once again I did not dare show displeasure or
distaste for anything anyone said or did. I returned to my passive,
doormat-victim role. I continued to numb myself with food. I was completely
unaware of the root of my rage. I did not consciously remember a great deal of
my childhood, but even if I had, I would not have made the connection between
my rage and my past experiences.
I
will stop Part 2 here and continue my story in my next letter to my sisters in two weeks time.
Please
feel free to ask questions or make comments and share with me what you want to
say. You don’t have to use your own name if you’d prefer anonymity. To leave a
comment you have to log in under a Google+ page. I look forward to
reconnecting with you again, to share with you how I freed myself from my
disproportionate and recurring reactions and my dysfunctional cycle of
suppression-rage-suppression. Understanding it all was just the first
step to finding myself.
I've received lots of emails and FB messages from readers telling me they tried to post a comment but their message disappeared when they hit "publish", so I'm going to try to post this comment myself to see if it works. I had understood that if readers logged in through a Google+ page they would be able to leave a comment. So here goes!
ReplyDeleteWell, it worked for me. Not sure what to suggest - will talk to my techno-guy!
DeleteI'm enjoying your blogs :0)
ReplyDeleteThank you sweet Lisa!
Delete