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Originally Posted by Angela (Interestingly, I think it's your belief that "I am worthless" that has you even making that last apologetic remark -- you're right; it taints everything.) |
Ha, I thought it was more "I will cause no harm" that was the biggest factor, but I suppose they all play their part in a morbidly fascinating way.
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Originally Posted by Angela You know, your beliefs about yourself don't come from your mother and stepfather. Their behavior, as abusive and ill-judged as it was, did not make you decide you are worthless. Your decisions about yourself come from you. |
I'm aware of this, but thank you for pointing it out and not letting me forget it. I no longer harbor any ill will toward my step-father, or my mother for that matter, because I know that it was me that created my thoughts. I can't blame them, because it wasn't their fault. My step-dad is the way he is, and that's it. It's not him that I hate, so much as it's the idea of hurting people. It just doesn't seem fair to me. Of course, tacit in this assumption is that I hurt people. I think that's the key to the root of all this, my fear of hurting others. I think that maybe I hurt somebody in the past, either accidentally or capriciously, and that is why I'm so terrified to let go of all this. I'm afraid that if I let go, somebody will get hurt.
Now that I think about it, I do remember something that could fit the bill. When I was little, probably 6-8, there was an incident. Me, my sister, and one of my cousins were playing a game of some sort. I think it was hide-and-seek. My little sister tried to hide under the bed, but for some reason the top of a tin of hot cocoa mix was under there, and she cut her thumb badly on the ragged edge. She had to get stitches. I remember everybody thought it was my fault, because if I hadn't put the lid under there then who did? (keep in mind, I was at an age where I did weird things for no reason other than that I hadn't done them before. I remember one time I took a plastic container of some food from the fridge and hid it under my parents' bed. About a week later, I put it back in the fridge.

). The thing is, I don't remember putting the lid under there, even though everybody insisted that it had to be me. I'm wondering, did I really put the lid under there and blocked it out because of how hurt my sister got? I know that it's possible to lie about something so much that you believe the lie yourself. Maybe my guilt caused me to lie away the whole incident so even I didn't remember it.
I don't want to get too caught up in the initiating incident, but I do want to know what is triggering this belief in me.
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Originally Posted by MaxLight btw I would be optomistic that you will have a breakthrough soon, you seem almost overdue somehow. |
Where the heck did you come from?! You're pretty smart for a noob. Thanks for the advice, I'll try to use it wisely