While reading an article on doubt today, I realized, I've somehow let the unhappy me become more real that the happy me. I'm not alone in this habit of remembering the failures and not the successes, it's become a standard in society.
It made my mind go back to all the crappy things I've believed about myself for so long....from my childhood, that I was uncomfortable socially from a few missteps, and unseen by parents in the times I needed understanding. Which completely dismisses that on the whole, growing up I was pretty blessed.
My marriage ended in divorce, a failure. At least that is what society has labeled it. And I judge myself for that relationship, not just how it ended, but getting into it in the first place and staying in it. Instead of looking at the positives from that time.
What feels worse is that when you go to therapy, they dig to find what's "wrong" with you. I was shocked when I first went to therapy for depression and was told I had a dysfunctional family growing up. Wow, I thought we were pretty normal. Of course I understand some of that dynamic now, but it still leaves me with a bad taste in my mouth for what I thought was a fairly happy childhood.
It makes me have to ask myself, would it be better to be blissfully unaware? Does it help to know the issues with my father, husband and trauma inducing incidents? It's supposed to help me alleviate my own blame, but it just changes it to judging myself in a different way. I feel like we aren't really shown how to heal.
You know the super crazy thing about it all? I've known who I was all along. It was when I was held up to the yardstick of society, albeit the community, friends, family, or a therapist, that I seemed to fall short.