Thinking about my childhood increasingly confuses me since last autumn – until I started seeing a therapist I had the impression that my childhood was an exceptionally happy one. I had caring parents, all my grandparents did a lot of funny stuff with me, I was good at school and violence was something that happened in movies. Yes, I was an only child and my parents seperated when I was 7, my dad worked quite much and my mum suffered from depression but everyone has something that wasn’t ideal in their childhood!
My therapist made me see that I always was under a lot of pressure to please everyone and that I had to grow up way too early in order to cope with going from one place to another all the time (after my parents’ divorce I spent one week with my mum, then one week with my dad and so on). That’s not just a bad thing – it made me more independent.
My parents’ divorce was better than most as it was extremely civilized – nobody argued or was angry, they just had enough of each other and had been living seperate lives for years anyway. When they wanted to tell me about the divorce, I said “I don’t want to hear, I know it already – you want to be seperated.” And that was it, basically. We discussed it on a very unemotional level, which was a two-edged sword I guess. I’m very glad that I got along very well with my parents’ new partners – they are all still together and happier than my parents could ever have made each other.
Also, a relative of mine didn’t respect my personal boundaries. That happened under the cloak of love and affection, so it took quite much time for me to see that it traumatized me. I’m still working on that…most of the memories are out-of body ones which makes it difficult for me to tell what I felt.
Being pestered at school wasn’t nice but as I preferred reading my books instead of playing with the others I wasn’t completely unhappy. I had my social environment: The family organisation my mum worked and still works for gave me a sense of belonging and there were lots of activities that made me happy there.
Panic attacks started when I was about nine. I was terribly afraid of losing my mum but the attacks stopped after seeing a therapist a few times.
A few close people died when I was quite young and I spent a lot of time in hospitals. Now, I hate hospitals but I guess that I have the ability of coping with people dying better than many other people. It’s just a part of life…
I said before that thinking about my childhood confuses me, that’s because of the splitting: I can only see the difficult stuff I just mentioned or I can see all the great things I had the privilege of experiencing. It’s black and white again and I am unable to see all the stuff in between, I hate the average.
Here are some awesome things about my childhood:
- My parents read book to me all the time, therefore I knew how to read at a very young age, books were my first big love and I thank my parents for that.
- We did lots of stuff – going to the zoo, going on adventurous night hikes, baking cookies and tinkering.
- My family was really patient with me, although I was jumping around and talking and asking something every waking minute 🙂
- I was allowed to eat as much chocolate as I liked.
- My mum and dad took lots of pictures and they even made a movie about me, with a proper soundtrack and everything. That’s one of the most precious gifts I have ever gotten.
- My parents where honest with me. Always.
And although we seemed to be this perfect family, I always felt I was “different”, people told me so as well. Somehow, I never really fitted the picture, as if I was an alien that just looked like the other children…
So that’s it about my childhood so far, I might write more about it but I guess this is enough for a first impression.