Responsibility

Therapy today was interesting. I updated her on all the work drama. I talked about how it reminds me of what happened at the bank. She talked about how far I've come. That I actually care what I am doing now. When I worked at the bank, I cared very little about how my behaviors affected my coworkers. A large part is I like my current job, and I hated the bank. Honestly, it became almost a trauma thing. I associated the bank with my eating disorder and self harm. I associated it with ending up in the psych ward. I remember walking in after getting out of hospital and panicking and looking for something to buy and cut with.

She kept asking why I don't want people caring about me. I tried to emphasize that it is people worrying that bothers me, but I realize those are the same. I don't like causing any kind of hurt or negative emotions. This applies to friends, family, and coworkers. She asked what it would take for me to feel worthy. I don't think anything can at this point. I feel I have caused so much damage with the drinking and self harm. I feel I have failed at school and work. So many things I feel like I have to make up for.

So we ended up talking about feeling responsible for things that I shouldn't. A lot has to do with my parents. I think of myself as the identified patient (can't remember where I learned that term). I am not the only one with some amount of mental illness. My Dad clearly has at least mild clinical depression. Both parents and my brother have anxiety. I am just the only one ever to be diagnosed and gotten treatment. I remember sometime after getting home from residential in 2009 realizing how much progress I had made and how much my parents were the same. It made/makes me sad and angry. When we did a couple family sessions while I was a teenager, they were told they needed to get counselling before trying to do therapy with me. My therapist gave them a list of names for therapists, but they never went. That wasn't the only time it was recommended to them. They still have never gone. I have pretty much refused to do family therapy because of this. My mom has for a long time complained to me about my dad, brother, coworkers. I have fought the urge to tell her maybe she should see a therapist (that would not go well). I think it's why I feel responsible for her happiness. It didn't help that as an adult she told me that I was the reason that we moved to Texas. My dad got a job here, but apparently the decision also had to do with me. I was threatened with a knife at school when I was 8. I have zero memory of this incident. I know about it because she mentioned it to my therapist. They moved to get me away from that school (that I do have bad memories from).

My mom was very unhappy after we moved because she was far away from her friends. Honestly, I had no real friends in Maryland, so it didn't affect me that way. She got a job and hated her coworkers. I somehow felt guilty even though I didn't know I was responsible for the move then. I wanted her to be happy. I wanted my parents not to fight. When my brother got in trouble at school, I focused on not causing any problems. I got less attention because I didn't cause problems. That lasted until I was 15 and they found out about my cutting. Then I got attention. Then I felt guilty for worrying them.

I went to college and started feeling responsible for my roommate's happiness. I developed my habit of buying people gifts to try to make them happy. In high school, I would bake things or bring people food to make them happy. I am still doing both.. I buy chips or other snacks to bring to work. I am the only one who does it. It makes me a little less anxious about coworkers liking me. The manager complained about being hungry once, and I told her she could eat anything in my lunch box.

So yeah.. I have a problem with feeling responsible for things and people that I am really not responsible for. My therapist wants to start doing work on the stuff with my parents. Honestly, we have been talking a lot about them recently. I have made progress in recent years with realizing that I am not the only one with mental illness. My mom complaining to me about my dad when I was a child was not ok. I love them and see them frequently, but I do not see them as part of my support system. They have failed on several occasions as being a support system. Ever since I relapsed with the bulimia in 2007 and my mom told me it was because I didn't try hard enough in treatment. Or when she told me I knew I would become an alcoholic when I started drinking and wanted to get as bad as I did. Or maybe when they visited me in the psych ward and she was angry that I hadn't told them sooner that things were bad. Yeah... there's a few things that she has said that are why I tell them I am fine and not the truth. I mentioned those first two in a meeting recently and I can tell by people's reactions that I am not overreacting about this. When I was in treatment in 2009 or 2010, I was taught about levels of support. I am so glad I learned and had validated that I get to choose who is in it, and my parents don't have to be part of it. It's like in AA people talk about your family of origin and family of choice. Admittedly, the latter has fallen apart lately. I really only have a few people in AA (though a lot more would be there if I actually asked). I have a few friends that I never talk to, but I know they will be there if I ever get over this social anxiety and self hatred.

Sorry for rambling a bit. I don't know how much of this I have written about before, but it's what is on my mind today so I feel like saying it. Not really looking forward to working on this in therapy, but I clearly am not over the responsibility thing.