Unborn Worthy To Live

Building Emotional Walls

Once upon a time there was a family who lived in a beautiful house. The family had lots of the material things that many people think are important for contentment. The family, however, was not contented. With one misunderstanding and another, the situation grew worse and worse. Nobody would give way an inch in their bitter arguments, until at last the family's love turned to hate. Finally certain ones in the family insisted that inside the house they would build brick walls to divide other family members. Each went his and her own way, and each never spoke to the others again as long as they lived. The family had many wretched years in their isolation.

Today's Reminder
Am I unknowingly building walls between myself and the people in my family? Are the walls being made of stubbornness, self-will, self-righteousness and a desire to punish? Such walls can be as hard and unyielding as though they were made of real bricks. It would leave me no space in which to grow.

"God grant me the wisdom to recognize the faults I am building into walls, such walls as cannot be penetrated even by love."

[Taken and fashioned from "One Day At A Time In Al-Anon
for general family relationships by Jim Hogue, MA, MFTI]

The Role of Father in Raising Children

A father must “come between” a mother and her child to sever the child’s natural bond of dependence on the mother and to lead the child out into the world so that the child can develop his or her talents and take up a meaningful, productive life of honesty and integrity.

All of us have experienced the delight of being fed and protected when we were helpless infants. In fact, if we don’t experience it, we die. And the delight of this early infantile experience, which makes no demands on us and leaves us free simply to enjoy it, is at the root of our adult yearnings for a “utopia” in which all of our needs are taken care of effortlessly.

But to function responsibly as an adult, a child must pass beyond this care-free infantile state of dependence. If this task fails, the child will remain neurotically dependent on maternal protection and will be afflicted with doubts and anxieties about assuming personal responsibility in the world. Moreover, the child’s talents will either remain buried in fear or will be expressed largely through an unconscious grandiosity. And, in its most severe manifestations, alcoholism and drug addictions can develop in adolescence and adulthood, because all addictions have their roots in a desire to escape the demands of personal responsibilities and return to an idyllic feeling of care-free bliss.

A child, therefore, has three essential tasks which must be accomplished under the guidance of a father.

1. To learn how the world works.
The father must teach the child not only about the abstract—and often dangerous—dynamics of social relationships beyond the family itself but must also provide instruction in the practical rules governing the physical world, including honest, productive work in the world.

Imagine a primitive society of forest dwellers. To teach the child how the world “works,” the father must take the child out into the depths of the forest and show the child how to survive and eat by using weapons, building fires, and making shelters. Now, the modern world may not be a forest anymore—though it is often enough called a jungle—yet the forest metaphor aptly describes the process by which a father must teach a child “how the world works.”

2. To learn to trust.

Yes, a child will more-or-less “trust” a nurturing mother. This sort of trust, though, is a necessary part of mother-infant bonding for the sake of the infant’s physical survival.

Real trust requires that the child grow to depend on and respect the father, a person different from the mother from whom the child originated; that is, the father is a different body and a different gender from the mother. The father—and only a father—can therefore teach the child to enter the world and encounter difference confidently. But, to be a successful teacher, the father must teach this from the place of his own faith and obedience. In other words, the father must live from his heart by the rules he teaches to his children. In this way the children can learn to trust him through his own integrity. Otherwise, the children will see him for a hypocrite and will disavow—openly or secretly—everything he represents.

3. To learn to trust oneself.

As a child receives instruction from a trustworthy father and develops a sense of confidence under the father’s compassionate guidance, the child will then be able to function more and more independently, assimilating the father’s external guidance into an internal, psychological confidence.

First the father builds a fire, saying to the child, “Watch me.” Then the father encourages the child to build the fire. Finally the child goes off into the forest alone, and builds a fire on his own, confident in what he learned from his father.

*Lack*

Now, considering all of this about the role of a father, look about you and see how many fathers fail miserably in their responsibilities. How many fathers are absent from the family because they were nothing more than sperm donors in a moment of lust? How many fathers are absent from the family because of divorce? How many fathers are absent from the family because their adultery draws them away to another woman? How many fathers are absent from the family because they are emotionally insensitive to their children’s needs? How many fathers are absent from the family because they are preoccupied with work or sports? How many fathers are absent from the family because they are preoccupied with their own pride and arrogance? How many fathers are absent from the family because of alcoholism? How many fathers are absent from the family because of illness? How many fathers are absent from the family because a woman decided she didn’t need a man to have a child? It can go on and on. And it does.

And the sad thing is that when a father is absent—whether physically or emotionally—his lack causes a lack in the children. Lacking understanding of how the world works, lacking trust in others, and lacking trust in themselves, children—whether they be boys or girls—become lost, insecure, and confused. They lack confidence. They lack real faith. They lack a spiritually meaningful future. They lack life. All because their fathers were lacking.

Please note, though, that all of this lack resulting from the lack of a father is, in many cases, largely unconscious.

Yes, some persons are truly crippled—both emotionally and socially—by the lack of a father, and their lives become dysfunctional and stuck.

But other persons are able to keep up a surface appearance of functionality; they hold jobs, they get married, and they have children. Yet under the surface of normality a deep secret of anger and victimization is buried. Here are the dark roots of symptom after symptom of secret resentment for the father. Argumentativeness. Passive-aggression. Suspiciousness. Trying to make others “face the truth.” Being late for appointments. Procrastination. Learning disorders. Difficulty following directions or reading maps. Getting lost. Mental confusion at just the times when clarity of thought is needed. And all addictions—not just drug and alcohol addiction, but also obesity, cigarette smoking, and pornography. This list can go on and on. And it does. All because a father, in his physical, emotional, or spiritual absence, failed to instill in a child a sense of inner stability, trust, and confidence.

(This article is again a work of Dr. Raymond Lloyd Richmond.
For this and other writings by him, go to The Role Of Father .)

Depression & Suicide

He was about 7 years old. It was after dinner, and the evening sun of midsummer still hung low in the sky. Suddenly, he ran into the house and threw himself onto his bed, crying, saying, over and over through his tears, “I wish I were dead.”

Dr. Raymond Lloyd Richmond continues to write: ... As I look back on this event, I can now also recall the rest of the story. My mother had denied me something I wanted (though what it was is long forgotten), I felt unrecognized and unloved, and I was angry at her. In my mind, I began to wish she were dead—but only for a split second, because on the edge of consciousness it occurred to me that if she were to die, I would have no mother and that I would be left all alone in the world with no one to take care of me. So my mind quickly turned away from that wish for her death, with all of it’s lonely implications, and, feeling quite guilty about the whole thing, I began to wish for my own death. After all, what kind of a person could be so dependent on someone else, so helpless and afraid? A no good piece of nothing, that’s who, and he deserves to die.

In psychological terms, I repressed my anger for my mother and ended up turning my frustration against myself. The proverb “Don’t bite the hand that feeds you” sums this up nicely. It’s a terrible bind for a child. And, if it happens often enough, it can prevent the child from being able to express emotions appropriately—because with every angry thought comes the fear of losing someone’s love or protection.

In my own life, beginning with my psychoanalysis as a student, I have had to come to terms with this event and how it has affected my life. I, like many of my own patients, have been forced as an adult to learn how to come to terms honestly with feelings of insult and hurt.

Now, the fleeting suicidal fantasy that I encountered in that moment of childhood frustration was not a clinical case of suicidal depression. Nevertheless, in my professional experience I have seen the dynamic of suppressed anger as a major motive behind clinical depression, and ultimately, as the unconscious motive for serious suicidal thoughts. Someone close to you hurts you, and “Don’t bite the hand that feeds you” kicks in from childhood. Fearing the loss of that person’s love, you keep silent about your feelings and ultimately—as a way to escape the guilt of your dependency—you begin wishing for your own destruction. (Which, as an adult, you actually have the power to bring about.)

But there is one other element to the process.

It isn’t just that a person fails to communicate with others honestly. If you are hurt often enough, in keeping silent about it, and in feeling guilty about being so dependent on someone’s love, you can begin to believe not just that you are unloved but that you are despised. If you ever reach this point you then seemingly become a “partner” in your own destruction.

In fact, some persons will even kill themselves to avoid admitting that their parents did not love them—that is, that the parents did not acknowledge the child’s individual needs with true love.

Has anyone ever pushed you away when you wanted to be held? Has anyone ever given more attention to a bottle of alcohol than to you? Has anyone ever laughed at you when you were hurt? Has anyone ever told you that you were too dumb to succeed? Has anyone ever refused you help when you asked for it? Do you get the idea? No one may have actually told you to kill yourself, but all these sorts of behavioral cues give a clear impression: “You are of no importance to me.” “I have no concern for you.” “You’re not special.” “You don’t deserve to be alive.” “You are garbage.”

So, to the “Other,” you (and all of us, for that matter) are just an object to be manipulated to satisfy someone else. It’s a losing game to try to make the “Other” love you. It’s a losing game to make the “Other” say you’re special. Sure, you can try to do all the right things, like drink the right brand of cola, eat at the right fast-food place, wear the right jeans, expose all the right pieces of flesh, pierce and tattoo yourself in the right places, use the right lingo, work for the right company—but once you slip up, then it’s the garbage can for you.

Thus you can “tune in” to the resentment of others subliminally, and, if you’re not psychologically aware, you can come to believe that these perceptions you receive from others are truth and reality about your personal value—or lack of it.

I’m not trying to tell you here that no one feels affection for you. You can argue all you want that your mother and father care about you somehow, and I won’t object, because on some level they do care about you. The real point is that many persons who claim to care about you also give indications, through behaviors and things they say and think, that their affection for you is mixed with resentment. Thus, instead of teaching you how to love by the example of true love, they “infect” you emotionally with a fear of love. It’s not pretty to see this directly, so that’s why you have defenses that blind you to it. But it’s real. At the core, that’s where suicidal feelings originate. Not that anyone is necessarily literally wishing you to die, but that the feeling of resentment that they project can get so strong that you end up feeling like garbage. And from there it is only one small step to make yourself garbage.

So, once your psychotherapy drags you through the pain of this realization about human nature—and you accept it all without defense and resistance—you will then have the strength to “see through” the illusions of the “Other” and claim your own right to exist.

(For the above quote, go to Depression And Suicide by Dr. Raymond Lloyd Richmond.)