I tried to lighten things up with yesterday’s post but I am still struggling. Just a lot of crying. Feeling so totally inadequate. Defective. Everyone else is living and going about their day and I struggle to even get up in the morning.  For me, perfectionism isn’t about my house being clean or having things in order. It is an all consuming fear of failing. It is fear f having someone angry with me.  As a very littl girl, maybe 3 or 4 I remember getting in trouble for coughing. Ice cold baths, the belt and being hung over bridges were some of the ways I was punished. If I did everything the way my biological father wanted, there was peace and calm. If anything was out of order there was punishment. A bed not made. Mud on a towel. Wetting the bed. Not eating everything on my plate.  Punishments were quick and harsh. I was born into fear. No. I was born into terror. I have been to numerous counsellors, read books and group support. I can’t seem to not be afraid. I have no voice.  My desire to please does come partly from a true desire to make things better for others. But part of that desire is based on fear of doing the wrong thing. The problem is, I am not really good at anything. I have never excelled at anything.  Everything I do is just okay. Nothing is ever done really well. Wth that, I feel inadequate and try to please all the more.  The pain runs so deep I really can’t put it into words. The pain is so deep that I often consider suicide as the only way out. (I won’t. I promise.)  The pain is torment. I am inadequate. I am defective. 

I am not sharing this to get attention.  I am writing to get this out.  Personally, I would like to turn off comments but I know that’s not fair. 

19 thoughts on “

  1. It is fair, if you want. You don’t owe anyone.
    I have a broken heart for the way you were treated and I wish it didn’t revisit your mind. Let this love offer some consolation.

  2. Thank you for sharing, Birdie. Sorry how you were treated. You really do though, have a voice and I enjoy hearing what you have to say.

    What do you enjoy doing the most? What pops into your head, first?

    • I have a few interests. Genealogy for one. When I am not in a depressive episode I could name all sorts of things. But being in this dark place it is hard to even think.

  3. You probably have some PTSD going on my sweet Birdie. I am praying that somehow this can be broken in you and you can come into a place of self love and acceptance….it’s not about doing. It’s about being. You are just wonderful you and that’s enough. It’s all that matters. I can certainly understand how these feelings of never being enough have been ground into your very soul though. You poor baby girl. ❤

  4. My dear sweet girl. None of this is your fault. None of what happened to you as a child was your fault. I agree that you likely suffer from PTSD and I truly hope that you find someone who knows how to help you process all of this pain. -Jenn

  5. I think I know what you mean about not writing for attention and (if we’re on the same page) feeling like an over-dramatic whinypants for bringing anything like that up. Don’t know about you, for me it’s been tough to acknowledge my feelings regarding my experiences-to feel like I have a right to any opinions.

    I’ve made some progress over the years. There are still days when the darkness encroaches and I lose that self-love that bolsters my strength and ability to share with confidence. I think you may know what I mean. Takes a lot of effort and practice and determination to reverse all those years of brainwashing. We can do it!

    Boil that all down and what I mean to say is you don’t come off whiny one bit. You aren’t defective, inherently flawed, or worthless. You are our perfectly human, well-loved friend, Birdie, and we are so happy to have you in our lives just as you are. Even the most dazzling diamonds have inclusions and you dear, are surely a diamond in my book.

    Hugs. Love. Admiration. Gratitude. Pride. All for you!

  6. I am sorry for the treatment you received and I hope that at least on an intellectual level you know you are not inadequate and that you are loved. I love you and I know all these people and your husband and kids love you as a start. Your clients love you and you give them such great care. I also know when you’re in it everything you’re feeling feels so real and ending it feels like the ultimate peace. I understand. When I’ve felt that way the only thing that’s really worked is to not fight it until it goes away. Much love to you. Joanne

  7. It’s time to kick the black dog to the curb. He’s darkened your days enough now and he can move on. I’ll whistle and try to lure him away to hopefully get lost in the dark woods and not bother anyone else. There is not much I can do for you all the way over here but I can tell you that you are a wonderful person who is caring and kind. We need more people like that in the world. Your clients love you and you make a difference in so many of their lives. Not many of us can say that. Please know that I am here with you, pouring you a cup of your favorite tea and healthy snack. You aren’t alone.

  8. Heartfelt hugs.
    HBF nailed it for me in her comment.
    You aren’t whiny, and are much loved.
    I understand (too well) where you are coming from but you are NOT inadequate. In any way.

  9. I am heartbroken over what happened to you, and you are neither inadequate nor defective in any way. Write all you want, if it helps. You are a caring person a great mom and wonderful to your clients, among many other things and I am proud to know you, as are others in your life. Hugs!

  10. What parents can do to their children, and how it sticks with the child through adulthood is powerful. Parents have so much influence over their children. You’ve learned to cope the best you can. I’m sorry for the pain your childhood continues to cause you, Birdie.

  11. So what if you’re not perfect or defected. That saying holds true, “Nobody’s perfect”, Hell, not even Martha Stewart is perfect. I bet that lady has some nasty little secrets. So stop beating yourself up about that.
    I know it’s hard not to, but think about it. Everyone makes mistakes. Just look at us stupid Americans, half of us voted for that dumbass trump. A few of those voters still think they made the right choice. and others are kicking themselves for that vote once they realized what fools they are.
    So please, please, PLEASE, know this in your heart, you are as perfect as everyone else because there is no such thing as the perfect person. At least not in this world. If there was, that person would be the most good looking, healthiest, richest, and loneliest person on earth.

  12. Why wouldn’t you live in fear of failing if that’s how you were treated as a child. My fear is rejection, being left. It haunts me still. I was speaking with a patient the other day and he and I decided that the way all humans are connected is through our suffering. You’re not alone Birdie. It’s not just you. Sending hugs.

  13. I understand. I had a very brutal, alcoholic father whose abuse left me (and my siblings) damaged, anxious, and angry. My life’s work is to rid myself of every vestige of fear and pain, and to fully, truly, really free myself from being a victim. We didn’t deserve horrible fathers. You are a survivor, and you are wonderful. People love you. Those are some of the things you do exceptionally well. I am so grateful for finding your blog.

  14. Birdie, nobody deserves to be treated this way and I hope you realize that it was not about you…it was your father. And I also love genealogy and have found many of my cousins in my family search, and some very old photos that I had no idea existed. It is a great interest, one that I share with you. Sending you lots of love and warm hugs.

  15. Oh Birdie, how awful to feel such terror as a young child, especially a child so pure of heart as you were, and as you are. Though my history differs, I understand deeply the sense of not being good enough, the feeling that we somehow aren’t doing life right, that everyone else is in on the secret of how to live and feel joy. In fact everyone is not out doing their lives in the way you imagine. So many of us are right where you are, alone, in pain, isolated, struggling to reach out. I am so glad you wrote this post, because I know it helps to move the feeling out of you a bit. And it also helps others who feel as you do to know they are not alone. And that is what I want to say to you, dear Birdie. You are not alone. And you are a beautiful radiant soul. And you are definitely not mediocre. You shine.

  16. What’s not fair about turning off comments? It’s totally fair. You could provide an email address if you wanted responses; readers who have something to say would write you directly.

    I don’t have a lot of commenters on my blog so it is not a problem for me. I’ve always been impressed when bloggers have dozens of comments, but lately I’ve realized that I wouldn’t want that, myself. It would feel good and mean my blog had a lot of traffic, but if I had to read and/or respond to them all, it would be a time-burden I wouldn’t choose. I appreciate my readers and love it when they comment, yet I’d be just as happy with a private email.

    But that’s not what you’re talking about. Still, it’s fair not to allow comments. People use blogging for different purposes; some for a back-and-forth conversation, some for a place to make themselves feel heard or to share, some to publicize their wares, and so on. Whatever you use it for, it’s your right to do so. If that means turning off the comments function when you feel like it, it’s fair. You don’t owe your readers anything.

    My .02! I am reading and rooting for you. Your meditation space inspires me, too. Thanks for the photos and for talking about it.


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