374- Self punishment 1

1,778 words and 10,175 characters shall follow below, normally not needing any trigger warning as I kept the topic in mild terms. Another entry on the topic shall follow, hence the title.

One of the aspects I discussed the least about in my CPTSD struggles is how I punish myself due to severe lack of self-worth & self-esteem, brought on by life in my father's religious cult.

If you haven't read this entry about depersonalization and conditioning, I invite you to do so now, and then come back to this post. 

Welcome back... so you know that these two techniques are used in many religious cults, and you know their direct goals and modus operandi. I did mention that a direct results included self-esteem issues, which am now going to develop and discuss how these in turn, cause me to self-punish. 

During these experiences, my father and step-mother both kept repeating that I was good for nothing, that I'd amount to nothing and that all my best was never enough. I was asked to perform many Cinderella tasks (read : using me as a slave, disguising the demands by requests to fulfill my spiritual duties), but shown how badly I'd performed - by my step-mother taking over and re-doing my "failed task". 

Repeated conditioning, depersonalization, put-downs, words and actions - not to mention the numerous punishments already mentioned elsewhere (meal deprivation, being locked in the WC, beatings and withdrawn gifts I'd received from family members), all contributed to a severe lack of self-esteem and self-worth, which I've been dragging all my life, like shackles. By nature of my CPTSD's, I carry with me a miniaturized prison, in the image and shape of the one I lived in during my cult-years, and it affects my actions, my decisions, my lack of commitment in projects ; I am an under-achiever, lacking in drives and energy to go forward at all times. 

If I'm not really passionate about a project, I tend to give up before I even begin- and if I do start one, I tend to question my validity and doubt that I can ever really accomplish it, hence I try to stop doing it. This is true especially for my artistic and creative endeavors, but in other life-areas as well. 

For instance, I tried my hand at drawing, sketching, painting ; I do that every few years - several pieces in clusters, and then I stop, until next time. 
I tried sculpting with terracotta and making small objects - some of which I kept, most which I tossed, and the last time I tried was over 7 years ago... 

I wanted to learn how to play the harmonica, like my grandfather did, but I keep 2 of them, unused for years... I tried playing, I tried watching a tutorial, and gave up... The same goes for drumming the bongos : I bought them because I love drums and I frequently air-drum, but when it came to learning how to properly play and keep rhythm, I gave up, again. This was a few months ago. 

My PC has been set aside since April, when it died, or went into a deep coma. It took me many weeks to backup my files ; a friend said he should have an air compressor, and I haven't contacted him to try to fix it, yet... but must do so... 

My wife have been sharing her laptop with me while my PC is waiting. But, quite often, I refuse to use it and prefer to sulk, brood and either read (at best) or mindlessly scroll social media on the phone (small screen, big fingers, less interaction).  In both cases, I feel that I'm not worthy of a better PC, or of sharing my wife's laptop. This struggle is truer when my depression sinks even lower than my normal, and directly linked to my childhood trauma - specifically the ones I mentioned above. 

Habitually, I don't feel worthy of accomplishing things, and have no patience for processes : I want to see results, which I know cannot happen unless I practiced, but have no will to do it (under-achiever problems, lack of self-esteem and self-worth all colliding).

As I requested on twitter & facebook, don't assume that because I've been out of my father's religious cult for 20+ years than I don't still suffer to this day. Part of my trauma was caused by depersonalization and conditioning. I suffer from severe self worth/esteem issues, and when my depression is low, I punish myself in many ways. It's not only about art, projects, or sharing a computer. It's also about receiving compliments (intangible) and gifts (tangible objects). 

Indeed, I struggle to accept compliments from others, about my qualities or accomplishments alike. I more readily accept them, but when I hear, I tend to shrug them off. At least, this is used to be 100% of the cases, but about 20 years ago, I participated in a group-therapy, with a psychiatrist who was also an art therapist, and a sophrologue (some kind of yoga-based therapy that is practiced in France). In this group therapy, we had role-games (which I hated, btw, and I don't ever wish to go back to one). There, I learnt to accept compliments a bit better, but when my depression sinks, I still struggle to systematically accept.

Far worse, accepting gifts, of tangible objects, have been a huge difficulty for me. As you saw above, my father and step-mother would automatically confiscated any gift I'd received for any occasion. Even those offered by my paternal grand-parents, and other relatives, but also classmates. I simply had no right. The reason given was that these objects were risks to my soul, because they were materialistic... (It didn't stop my father and step-mother to re-invest my gifts into things THEY used.... ) 

As a DIRECT result to this, and even after all these long years, I still struggle to accept gifts, small and big. For example : I have endless wish-lists (mostly of cultural objects such as books and cds) , but when my wife requests a small list of possible gifts she could offer for my birthday or xmas, she has to nag at me for weeks, because I tend to ward her questions off. I simply don't feel worthy of asking for anything. Sometimes, I consent to make a small list, but it still takes me a lot to decide which items I feel I can both relinquish control over price-monitoring, and to accept it as a gift rather than an item I buy for myself, later... 

On the other hand, with family (mother, aunt...) I tend to be a much more erased person, and to fully display my beta nature, not discussing the topic, and commonly getting whatever they chose - be it socks, useless stuff, expired jams, or - in the case of my mother, more expensive items, that I couldn't afford - such as a computer. In those instances, it's not the object that I feel I cannot accept, but to refuse them by affirming either other needs, or refusing anything outright...

On a very regular basis, I don't practice self-care : I don't necessarily drink enough water, nor treat my skin as a second nature. I have to be coaxed about it. My wife left me a sign on the bathroom wall, reading "exfoliate your skin, it's good you like"as a reminder, but despite this, I 'forget'. I'm ordinarily lazy about my own appearance and well-being. 

In the past few years, I've worked on all these aspects, with more or less success. 
I make the efforts to practice self-care, and to drink more, and to eat more or less healthy foods.
I may accept more easily compliments and occasional gifts ; I may accept to share my wife's laptop when my PC is still waiting to be treated (just like at the moments I needed to compose this blog entry, in several stages). 
You may have noticed that I participated in challenges, answering their questions about my qualities or accomplishments. You may notice that I use the word I, and capitalize it... but you may not have known that I didn't use to say I, nor to capitalize my name anywhere for many years... You may not have known the struggles - behind the scenes - of my challenging participations to those challenges... 

You may not have ever noticed that I disappeared from social media due to my struggles with self-worth - be it because I was sulking and refusing to use my wife's laptop, or I may have decided that people would be better off without my presence... 

But, yes, if you watched the making-off Lulu, you'd see those gritty behind-the-scenes, deleted scenes and other bloopers, where I was struggling with each of these - and many other aspects of self worth, self acceptance, self love, self esteem, and just being a SELF, a ME, an I. 

Having survived my father's religious cult, his repeated conditioning and depersonalization of ME, his numerous rules, punishments, wrath, all of this was a huge chunk of what I experienced in my childhood. But the struggles didn't vanish just because I left. Oh no, this would be far too simple. If 'you'  thought this possible, guess again. You couldn't be farther from the truth : the struggle is ongoing. 

• Defining who I am, if I shed all the layers of this trauma and subsequent CPTSD's begun in 1995 and is still a work-in-progress. 
• Un-learning all the lies which step from my multiple CPTSD's (not only the ones mentioned above, but also witnessing domestic violence and political instability, among others), is beyond what you can imagine in its intricate difficulty 
• Breaking down my shackles of lies, deceit, abuse have all been works in the making
• Learning self love, self-worth, self-acceptance, building self-esteem and the person I might have been without my trauma are all ongoing. 

Some days, I progress better than others on these and other healing necessities. 

Other days, however, are tremendously bleak, dreary, black and feel like bottomless pits of despair, and dis-repair. 

Healing isn't a linear process. It's a muddy, winding path, with no road-signs, but at times, I meet other travelers who share part of the drive, or help me through it. It's all a long, unexpected journey - to paraphrase Tolkien. I have embarked on it a VERY long time ago, and sometimes, I wish i'd arrive to some destination already... 

Breaking the cycle of self-punishment isn't easy, not after years of received punishments, and then adopting self-punishing as a normal act. I know that healing isn't a quick process. It takes time, patience, self-love, accepting help and support, accepting crossroads, bumps and mud on the path... 

Onward I go, as much as possible, and so should you, if you struggle with anything (dis)similar.