I remember being inpatient at Bradley Hospital in the days leading up to Christmas. Initially it’s startling how many children require acute psychiatric care for the holidays. I had been there since before thanksgiving, so I was ending my days there, but December 21st, 22nd, 23rd…children were happy to be there and came in troves. I just wanted to go home, I couldn’t understand why they chose to be there.
When those kids opened up in process group, a common thread was among them. Many had attempted suicide, those same children were all affiliated with an adoption agency or in a foster care program.
I never lived without my parents physically being planted on Earth, but I know how it feels to be neglected and down trodden from those very same entities the other kids on the unit lacked. And in a sense, our feelings towards family were quite similar. A question, “What’s the point?” was often asked.
When I feel unconditional love coming my way I question it as well. For those times it isn’t, “What’s the point?” but rather, “What’s the expiration date on these niceties?”
Because of my childhood I’m literally waiting for something to explode from others around me. I take compliments lightly, store them away, and hope they are true. This gets in the way sometimes and I truly feel terrible about it. When my boyfriend says anything flattering or love-y to me, I test it to no end, so to call his bluff, or something. Waiting for that explosion, waiting for the untimely curtain call.
I’m hoping that over time I will put a stop to my insecurities tied to insecure upbringings.