Avoided having my own kids knowing that they would be at risk of having a horrible childhood. Knew it was 'wrong-headed', but everything in life made no sense - everything which made no sense made sense. Perhaps I would not have the fortitude to overcome my own infancy (destruction of self-esteem) - (upbringing) and by loving any potential kids I might have so much, could not let them suffer as I did. I felt deep inside that whatever was done to me to make me feel so much agony had to be stopped genetically, for lack of actual conscious remembering.
Early Sensitive Caregiving Has Lasting Influence on Child’s Development:
http://psychcentral.com/news/2014/12/19/early-sensitive-caregiving-has-lasting-influence-on-childs-development/78842.html
My first husband wanted kids, but he's way better off without me, especially as a mother. He wouldn't hold down the old 'day job' anyway and that also turned me off to becoming so dependent. I have a nephew. He is autistic. We live on opposite coasts. I don't know him. But I love him.
Pathological anxiety permeated my life, the idea of carrying a child and the worry of if it was going to be ok or not seemed too much to bear. It was the 70s/80s, politically, sociologically, environmentally, so many growing reasons to not have kids (population explosion, ongoing degradation of environment.)
Took 50 years, but these 3 or so years into detoxing from (evil Rx) prescription drugs and resulting terrifying manic episode opened my eyes (reliving) my past and regaining memory, even the dreaded high chair. The farther back I went (in memory) the more I realized why I despised myself so much. It stemmed from infancy.
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