Trust – 88/366

Who do I trust?

First, go watch this – it is thought-provoking.

http://www.oprah.com/video_embed.html?article_id=59794

Trust is a hard one. I trust my husband, especially in the light of the points in the video.

I think that trust has a continuum, and that it includes places like “distrust but there is a smidge of some  willingness to trust”, “no small moments can ever build trust”, and “constant state of common enemy intimacy”.

I think that the one point that struck home is that loss of self-trust when there has been a break with someone you trust.

I know some people who must have grown up with “constant state of common enemy intimacy” and constant states of shattered trust as the household norm. It is how they (these people I know are siblings) relate to the world. The stories I have heard about how they grew up break my heart, I have reached this point of such intense loathing for their parents that I can barely breathe. They both manifest it very differently, but trust is so much at its core.   One learned how create friendships on mean gossip, the instant forge of friendship. I was so taken in by this, the feelings it creates are pretty powerful… but they are so twisted. I am no longer friends with this sibling, they found me as untrustworthy as I found them. In part because I relished having that feeling of friendship that I listened to the gossip. In hindsight, I should have known it was not a strong friendship in that it was based on deprecating others Ugh, this is so mortifying.  I try to tell myself that it is a lesson learned and not to be ashamed, my personal standards are too high to completely forgive myself though.

:: deep breath ::

The other sibling is more complicated. I don’t think they trust anyone. Being vulnerable is not a value they understand, but at the same time I can see in them a deep need to be accepted.  I think they bore the brunt of ridicule and feigned intimacy while growing up. They constantly make fun of people and things, making it their personal right to  shove imperfection in the face of others.  It isn’t gentle, and it hurts to watch… even more when I am the brunt of it.

I can’t imagine what this family was like to grow up in. I have told them that I consider their parents to be some among the worst of child abusers.  These parents made their children so functionally dysfunctional it is bewildering. In hind sight, I should not have done that, tell them how awful I thought the parents were. Maybe I needed them to see where it came from but in a family so empty of love based on trust and acceptance  that my threatening the small ties that remain must have been difficult to hear.

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