(the first post in this series is here: On Being A Social Outcast )
There is a link at the bottom of this post
that will take you to the next post in this series.
Going through this process, I’ve been thinking in metaphor a lot.
Lately, in the process of my recovery path through the minefield of no addictions or obsessions, the word ‘introject’ has been coming to my mind a great deal. An introject is a group of personality characteristics that are infused into someone from the personality of another person. From what I’ve read, it is quite common for children to acquire introjects of their parents. I had a real father, but I also have an ‘introject-father’. Though it may seem like they are one and the same, these are actually two very different types of entities, and so can be related to in two entirely different ways. It’s because of this difference that I’m seeing that there actually is a possibility for recovery.
As I am going through the hurricane experience of my friend’s total rejection of me, and dealing with this without the use of any addictions or obsessions to dull the pain, the introject-father I carry inside me, is really beginning to stand out very clearly. It’s as if my real-father was actually communicating to me. With hell fire in his eyes, I can hear him screaming, yelling what a scumbag I am… a toxic waste dump. Gobs, and gobs, and gobs of fiery hatred. Blaming me for everything wrong in his life. Spewing venom in my direction at every opportunity. Because my real-father was so powerful a personality and presence, this reflection of him, the introject-father inside, appears to me like the incredible hulk on a rampage. I also see this introject as being the age of a teenager. This introject-father is a huge, loud, and powerful teenage incredible hulk, who hates me.
I can also see a hundred other little introjects standing behind him. One for each person who rejected me, ridiculed me, humiliated me, and ultimately abandoned me.
When my father spewed the venom at me, because he was separate from me, he could walk away from the damage he caused. He didn’t have to deal with any flack from it. But the introject-father is different. The introject-father can not get away. It’s just as much of a prisoner inside my body as the rest of me that was forced to endure the venom spewing. The addictions I’ve been resorting to have been acting like a shield protecting the introject-father so that it hasn’t had to deal with it’s venomous acid splashing back in it’s own face. This is what I’ve discovered by not resorting to addictions or obsessions. The venom my introject-father has been spewing out day and night is being splashed back in it’s own face. And this is finally getting the introject’s attention.
This is why this teenage, incredible hulk, type introject is finally backing down. Without using an addiction or obsession to act as a protective shield, it’s finally beginning to feel the terrible impact of it’s own rage. The pain of what it’s doing is splashing right back on itself so that it’s beginning to back down… ~to change it’s tune~.
I can’t even begin to describe the difference this has made inside. There’s a sense of incredible relief and release. For instance, I discovered that I can finally read. I read a whole book, cover to cover… in one day! With out the introject-father’s continual screaming, I was able to really concentrate. I don’t think I’ve ever before experienced such a sense of freedom, calm and silence in my head. It’s really quite strange… and wonderful.
But what’s next on the agenda in the continuing saga of recovery from all addictions and obsessions. I don’t know. I guess I’ll find out when I get there.
The next post in this series is here: She Talked