A lot of what I have been processing in therapy over the last year and a half is my identity. Specifically, my identity without my family. If I don’t have them around to tell me who I’m supposed to be (and remind me of that over and over again) how do I know who I am? It has been challenging to pull apart what is genuinely “me” (“us”?) and what was built in by my parents.
I was talking about the way my parents molded their children to be a certain way. Some of that was based on who we were, naturally. They sorta expanded on what was already there, but made it even bigger (for their own benefit, not ours). I explained that they basically used our inherent characteristics to both build us up and then tear us back down again.
My older sister was valued for her academic performance. She was always the quiet “book smart” kid. She sailed through school and got into a top college. Once she actually went to college she did very poorly, much to everyone’s surprise. My parents’ response was to call her stupid and lazy and withdraw all support (financial and otherwise). She never recovered from that. Losing her identity as the “bright academic” destroyed her. Last time we discussed it, she mostly blamed me because that is around the time I initially went inpatient for suicidal ideation and eating disorder treatment. I missed her high school graduation because I was in a hospital. And all the attention I got for “being psycho” essentially stole her thunder.
I know she might think that’s true, but when she talks about it, she sounds exactly like my Mother. I told the therapist that I always wonder if my Mother didn’t plant that idea in her head – that I am the reason my sister’s life completely fell apart in college. The therapist sighed and rolled her eyes a bit. I gave her a questionable look and said,
“What? What’s wrong?”
“No it’s just…I’m so frustrated with your Mother.”
Things I Learned In Therapy 