1063 NO! NO! NOT AGAIN! REVISITED 6

6
2002
Introspection led me to ask my mother several questions:

Mom, isn’t it possible that after Grandpa’s and Janet’s abrupt ‘disappearances’, those traumatic changes may have caused my next stage of development to swerve away from the norm? I've often heard how Grandpa Yacob adored me. That he'd brag to anyone with an ear. That he'd bound into the apartment, so eager to see me that no one could stop him from waking me.  Each time I’ve listened to you tell someone that as a small child I'd never said—no—I've always wondered why that was true.  And I've yet to figure out why I'd eat till I threw up—until you called the doctor, who asked how much was placed on my plate.  Aren't you curious as to why I didn’t just close my mouth and push my plate away?  Whenever you tell someone how I'd walk quietly away, scratching at my arms while complying with any request that displeased me, I wonder—why did I do whatever was asked of me?”

We swung in silence for a few seconds before I continued: That level of cooperation isn’t natural for any child, Mom, especially not a first-born, as fully spirited as I was.  Character traits, which shape up during our first five years, weave ever more deeply into our personality patterns throughout every stage of life. Even now, inner conflict arises whenever I need to refuse a request. ‘People pleasers aren’t born, Mom; people pleasers develop for a reason.

But Annie, no one demanded anything more of you than of any other child.  You were just very agreeable.

No one had to be demanding of me, Mom.  I'm questioning what made me so demanding of myself. Remember the home movie that always makes us laugh?

They all make us laugh, Annie (this wins my smile)

I know, Mom.  I mean the movie where I can't be more than three. My hands are on my hips; my body language is clearly declaring an angrily assertive stance, and my mouth is motoring a mile a minute, giving Uncle Jerry 'what for'!  Uncle Jerry was a big guy with a temper.  Not the kind of guy a docile little girl would mess with. The fact that I gave myself clearance to mess with his disposition suggests a shift in my self confidence, soon after that.  My swerve away from any confrontation suggests detachment from some strength, which had been mine.  I need to know which strength got lost, so I can win it back.

I can't believe what keeps your mind busy, Annie. Like, why are you asking so many questions about Janet, lately?

Actually, I'm not sure, Mom.  Maybe it's because one thing leads to another.  Ever since I read Rudolph Dreikur's book, CHILDREN THE CHALLENGE, when my kids were small, I've been fasinated by the interactive workings of the brain.  While one part of the brain allows us to carve pathways toward reaching difficult goals, our defense system builds walls that blind us to how often dismiss our needs and frustrate ourselves.  As Dreikur's book inspired me to read many more, I came to understand how uniquely channeled each person's thought processor becomes during our earliest developmental years. Lately, I've been drawn toward learning about denial and self awareness, and recently, 'something' sparked my need to know how Janet's death may have influenced personality changes within me ...