« Unless and until I am seen, I don’t want to see others. »

When I used to be hyper-traumatized and completely unaware and amnesiac, I could not for the life of me, have any kind of empathy for someone else’s issues. I couldn’t put myself in their shoes, I couldn’t shush and listen. I did have compassion, but it was coated in rage and jealousy – why did I have to again be compassionate? Who would cater to my needs? It was a deep need that it would all be centered around me. 

My mother used to always say that we should consider ourselves lucky because our lives were easy. That translated in her behavior into dismissing our claims and demands for special or differentiated treatment. According to her, we were given enough and needed to stop asking for more. She was a clear example of someone who dismissed all of her needs to cater for others – while dismissing others’ needs too for being too much for her to handle. I was always too much for her to handle and she was very vocal about it. 

As a young adult, when I used to talk about my issues, back before my therapist was around, friends constantly dismissed my situation and my requests for compassion and understanding. Some of them pointed out to me that my life was great overall and I should quit complaining. Others told me I had an amazing boyfriend and everything seemed to be great in the love department. I have had people tell me  « at least you’re smart » or « stop thinking about yourself », « you can’t listen ». 

My blog when I was a teenager was literally called « life according to others », but sure, I’ll stop talking about myself… I even had a therapist (not mine) tell me they were so used to stories like mine they weren’t even shocked anymore. I was just « another one ». But then much later, I actually did shock her with one of my stories… careful what you wish for, I guess. 

After starting (helpful) therapy, I realized all these people never really cared about me. I hated being told others have it worst and I am not unique. It made me unbelievably angry to be told others go through the same thing as me or that my story wasn’t all that special, or that everyone has trauma. It made me feel so invisible and unimportant. It didn’t matter that it was true or that the person talking was asking to be seen too. It didn’t matter that there are so many incest survivors or trafficking survivors out there. My knee-jerk reaction was : « I get that – but what about me? » which then in turn made me feel self-centered and a jerk. Shouldn’t I care if others have it worst? Why am I this angry? What is wrong with me? Why can’t I do what I am told is « good » and listen to others? 

My mother always put « listening to others » on the top of her « honorable tasks » and because she was a doctor, she thought her listening skills were great. My dad was a therapist, he was literally paid to listen to others well. Listening to others seemed to be the paramount requirement for going to heaven in my family, this kind of « good human / bad human » categorization. If you listen, you are good. If you don’t listen, you are bad. I wonder now what that makes them considering they never ever listened to what I really actually had to say. Ugh… 

« You could be a manager one day, but you have to learn to listen ». My mother’s cousin told this to me once in a restaurant. I was 20 years old. I literally stopped chewing to stare at her. I was shocked she’d even dare to say something like this to me. « She is one to talk » I thought deeply wounded and ashamed. She’d been talking nonstop the entire meal… I tried to argue against her and I lost the fight. I wasn’t listening. She didn’t feel heard. 

My lack of listening skills and my deep hatred for others generalizing my pain go hand in hand. 

When I was hurting and when in today time, I hurt deeply – I still can’t listen. I don’t want to listen. I don’t want to be told about generic words and statistics about how good I have it. I also don’t want to be told about how bad I have it because honestly, that doesn’t help either. I just want to be heard and seen for where I’m at. 

These past two weeks have been monumentally hard. It’s been one crisis after another. We are struggling so hard. And all I can hear in my head is « others have it worst, others have been through the same thing, others… others… others… » and I haven’t been able to see me for me. I haven’t been able to look myself in the mirror and witness what is happening to me. All I hear is that others have DID and are lawyers, others have programming and struggle… I park myself in a group of people who hurt while I hurt and stay there as if they could help me but they don’t, they don’t help me. People who have it worst don’t help me by having it worst and people who struggle don’t help me by struggling. We’re in this « together » but we’re seriously apart. I need compassion for me but all I am doing is creating silence by listening to others from the past who have very little compassion for me. 

If and when I finally manage to look at myself as a person who needs help for my pain and my situation, I will be better for it and finally, I will also be able to listen to others’ pain and situation. I will show up for them because I showed up for myself.