This is a billboard sized sign that there's something I need to deal with.
My experience with my mother has always been frustrating. I have never felt loved, have never felt understood, never felt supported. Or at least in ways that would satisfy me. Kind of like speaking different languages. I spent a lot of time as a child trying to figure out what I could do that would make my mother pay attention and love me. I tried being a perfectly behaved child, tried being a boy, was an overachiever, did more, flew higher than anyone ever in the family, but there was still never that feeling of connectedness, of actually being family, not just the fake family in the pictures.
I have spent my whole life looking for my people!
How does this correspond to BB? I dance around trying for connection - and I do believe it is there - but somehow, I'm the only showing up. I provide the emotional (and often actual) sustenance, while what he offers is smoke and mirrors. Talking about emotions isn't experiencing emotions. Me crying is me experiencing emotions, and I got to do this often this past six months - grief, frustration, heartbreak, sadness, even beauty. But no outreach, no comfort. I was even met with annoyance one night when I was having a particularly bad time. Echoes childhood, my tears a bother, my illness a bother, always a burden. Rolled eyes when there were school events, all just too much effort.
When BB needed something, anything, I was always there. Needed a ride, needed to eat, needed money. Always. The few times I said no caused huge tantrums, and a desire to punish me in some way. The hurt eyes, so disappointed that I would refuse him something. The weight of feeling that his whole outlook depended on my supporting him.. Too much for me to carry!
And for all the talk of reciprocity - I got so little back. I got support which was what he felt like doing, not what I needed. It was just all messed up!
So what do I get out of this? People have suggested that I want to rescue them. I don't know. Maybe.
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