The force behind “shouldn’t you have …?” and “responsibility”

Today, discussing my “The Mask” in a session, a few dots were connected, in an unexpected way.

I’m not casting blame, or looking for a cause without myself. I am talking about a chicken and egg situation in which a certain dynamic playing out could, and in my case quite likely did, lead to an inevitable outcome.

It’s pretty clear that I have a higher sense of moral or ethical responsibility than people around me, and I mean that in a non-arrogant manner. Let’s call it “trying to do the right thing”, and not in a personal or hedonistic way, but in an “objectively and universally right” way. Or in Freud’s language; Id – Ego – Superego. What I am talking about is definitely Superego territory. But I’m not sure whether Superego is and was simply the dominant part, or that the Id is very suppressed, or that the Id was and is absent.

I do think the Id is there, but very suppressed. I don’t recognise it, and wouldn’t recognise it; even if it sat on my lap and told me: “Hi, I’m your Id”; that’s what it’s a subconscious for, right? I don’t know if that is nature or nurture. I do know that thinking about my Id evokes a fear reaction, but it might be shame or guilt. I definitely avoid it.

When I learned about hedonism (it was a psychology college about different ways of how we are motivated as humans), I had a shock reaction. I didn’t really know or understand the word until then, but it gave a word to a feeling I knew all too well. It gave me a feeling of disgust, being motivated by satisfying short term (personal) needs and wants; especially on the physical plane, in the broadest sense; whether it was food, self care, or fairly obviously sex.
But the more I think about it, I think I did a “moral high ground there”, like “that is below me, I don’t let myself be motivated by that”, while I think I secretly wanted – needed – to have that be a motivator. To protect myself. Protect myself from actually enjoying something? Or scold myself for wanting to enjoy something? I’d feel guilty for craving pleasure. And that was enough of a motivator to shut that down.
Acknowledging that craving would send the whole house of cards crashing, and I don’t think I felt even remotely strong and supported enough to allow it to crumble and then rebuild.

Dealing with that craving and simultaneously suppressing it, has been a constant struggle, and still is. One that is best visualised by an angel and a devil in those cartoons whispering in the main character’s ears as they sat on opposite shoulders, with opposing suggestions, typically along the “do the right thing” versus “do the pleasurable thing” line.
I find it so hard to actually and genuinely enjoy something guilt-free. There’s still that angel whispering: “don’t let yourself be tempted, you were doing so great, depriving yourself; if you let go now, there’s no saving you.”, and it drowns out the devil every single time.
Even just using the softer or larger towel to dry myself with after a shower, or applying body lotion with a gentle hand… No, can’t do it. I still can’t. And I so *want* to just enjoy it. Glow from the feeling I am able, and am self-allowed, to give myself. And that’s where I get stuck. Every time.

A child would be expected to react in a transactional manner when it comes to following (or experimenting with) boundaries when it comes to rules being set by “their” significant adults. Think “okay, I’ll do it if I get a cookie” and a multitude of variations on that theme. I am not sure I ever ticked that way, and that is where that “do the right thing” rather than “satisfaction of a need (or want)” might be at the root.

This is where “shouldn’t you have done that in a different way instead?” comes into play. Forcefully. Without going into detail about my upbringing aside from saying that “authority” was a theme (in reality it was “a lack of authority”), think of the caricatural “I’m not upset, I am disappointed.” It’s not authoritarian on its face, but that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t still come with the same (judgmental or emotional) weight. It did. And, I was very susceptible to it.

My feeling unsafe is something that I mentioned earlier already. Getting applauded for certain behaviour, and – not rejected or scolded, but – simply “not seen, of acknowledged” for other behaviour (I know now, I have craved to be seen and acknowledged), I mistook being applauded for being seen and appreciated. And in turn mistook that for safety. So I adjusted my repertoire of behaviour accordingly.

In wanting to do the right thing, I saw things as “I did it right” or “I did it wrong”. There wasn’t and couldn’t be any in-between. In not being seen or acknowledged, but my responsible and adult behaviour being applauded (I was still well in single digits age, at this point), I grew up quickly (did I choose to? did I feel compelled to? did I need to? did I want to?), I became afraid of, or reluctant to, experimenting, to test boundaries, and only tried to be the good kid, do the good thing. Already too much guilt; can’t handle even more.

During my adolescense, I didn’t act out. I still haven’t. I acted responsibly, performed conflict avoidance and fawning to a tee, and together with escaping in my work, that became my trauma response modus operandi for the next decades.

To my detriment, I can say now.

What I heard today, and that shook me to my core, but it only hit me when cycling back home: that the behaviour I displayed and “improved” upon, should maybe have been discouraged rather than encouraged.

It’s decades too late to turn that around now, but as per the Chinese “planting that tree” proverb, the best thing I can do for myself from today onward, is to make sure I use what I learned.

I have no clue how to do that, but I owe it to myself to give it my best.