The Shame that Binds You

My name is Cristina Johnson

Been reading Healing The Shame that Binds You by John Bradshaw. Just got it this morning and haven't been able to put it down. Shame is something that I've struggled with immensely - especially lately, but really all my life. This book is doing a good job of explaining why.

I'd even recommend this book for my recent ex - he would benefit from it - or anyone who's been through any form of child abuse.

There's a section that deals exclusively with sexual abuse and incest and I've been trying really hard to understand why I - a child - would feel ashamed over something that I had no control over. I mean, we - incest survivors - hear that all the time and cognitively we know it's true - it wasn't our fault - but internally we still carry this huge shame that we can't make sense of.

In the book, it talks about how children in varying stages but particularly at young ages, idealize and idolize their parents and their parents' behaviors. My parents are perfect so there must be something wrong with me. It must be my fault that I'm being abused because my parents are perfect. I must be bad!

For me it started with abandonment (not sure about other abuse) when I was preverbal...when bonds are created. But it begins with being not worthy enough for mommy or daddy to pay attention to you. I and my brother ended up in a foster home when I was very young - I don't know how young - but obviously this had a psychological affect on my psyche. And, given the circumstances under which we were living, I wouldn't doubt there was a lot of neglect on my mother's part. I do have one memory of it and it wasn't pretty. I was probably two or three.

And so it says in this book, the foundational years - first six months, then six to 18 months - there should be 'mirroring' but instead  what happens is our parents pass down their own shame, which was handed down to them, and so on. This can be in the form of any type of abuse - mild to severe, neglect to mental, to physical, to sexual abuse. All of which I and my brother endured.

My father's temper was violent and unpredictable. We were beaten a lot, indiscriminately, and without regard for dignity. We often endured punishments that kept us up until we were falling asleep standing up. I don't recall ever living with him, and not having holes in the walls.

But I idolized him.

And when he molested us, he would cry and I would go along because I couldn't stand to see him cry, even though I didn't want to do it, even though I knew it was bad and dirty. It must be my fault, though, right? Because Daddy's perfect.

So it is to this day...with everyone, until it just floods me...until I give in and allow myself to be vulnerable with someone, and then inevitably I shove them away because it's wrong to be weak. Wrong to show emotion. Bad, bad, bad. (Daddy would often chastise us for crying).

So in trying to understand shame, this deep, deep shame, I've been reading this book and it explains how you become your shame and that is exactly what I've been going through. Explains how - from being abused at such a young age - you lose your self. I have no sense of self. Who am I?

There's a part of me that I admit was hopeful that I would learn from the women in this area. I would learn sophistication and I would learn to be proper. I have a severe handicap but I really counted on compassion but without exposing myself, you know? I'd hoped I could sail through it, watching - observing - and learn to be "likeable" and "worthy".

I exposed myself to him, reluctantly... and I was met with exactly what I feared. This, I won't forget. It simply compounded my shame here - in this place, in these towns - and only made me more afraid to show my face anywhere.

I - like so many survivors - just want to be accepted and loved but the shame that grabs you and follows you and growls at you in your mind, keeps you from reaching out. 

God, if only people knew.