Photo Credit: "I always felt that I needed to work much harder than other people did in order to feel and be loved." -- Christine Anne Platel
Connecting feeling to the past is painful because my father didn't know how to connect with me. Men of his generation (and before) had to be tough and just bear the hardships without complaining. No one had any right to enjoy anything for very long without a dark long shadow looming large. Now, as an adult survivor I have a hard time believing anyone wants me around. I never acknowledged this state-of affairs. How would you called it? The loss of...?
The best title I can offer is the "the loss of feeling wanted" Perhaps it's not a loss, because I don't know if I ever had the feeling in the first place. Now, my wounded inner child screams for attention, seeking ways to compensate for the love deficit of my childhood -- hypervigilantly looking for signs of rejection: long pauses in conversations, bored looks, short replies or smiles that are meant to create distance.