I heart Linus.

I’m generally uneasy in social situations. It’s not that I don’t like people; it’s that to feign normalcy I have to muster up conversation and some of it has to be about me.

It makes me feel like this guy:


Sharing opinions or personal information like whether I like crunchy or smooth peanut butter is lost on me. I mean, who cares?

Healer Lady would probably suggest that I fear intimacy. She’s never actually said this, but she recommended a therapy group that focuses on communication and intimacy. I can take a hint.

Still, I have solid proof that…

…I don’t fear intimacy:

Exhibit A

Yep. That’s a family and it happens to be mine.

Apparently this doesn’t satisfy Healer Lady.  She’s informed me that adults who were abused as children generally don’t believe that other people value or care about them. This from the woman who gets paid to listen to me. (Don’t judge my cynicism.)

Her statement reminded me of the year I read The Diary of Ann Frank.  That same year I received a diary for my birthday. As a family, we weren’t the most introspective bunch, so I’m unsure what inspired this gift of blank pages (no pictures even) for the purpose of documenting my thoughts and feelings when I preferred that they fork over a remote control car.

If I were to find that diary today it would be as good as new, because I didn’t think I was worth writing about, (enter violins here) even on pages dedicated solely to me. It felt like it took a lot of nerve to write about myself when compared to a child of the holocaust who so eloquently and soulfully documented her life.

Lately, I’ve been practicing the intimacy thing face-to-face and I gotta say, the verdict is still out. I constantly feel like the jerk who chokes while trying to hit a 3-pointer in overtime to win the game.

Ahhh, so awkward!

Cyberspace provides a refuge and a community of support. Here, the exchange is controlled. I don’t have to tolerate someone minimizing my feelings or ignoring what’s important to me.  Writing gives me a voice and anybody reading can take it or leave it, but I don’t have to witness their decision.

Is that attitude a product of my childhood as Healer Lady indicated? Maybe. And maybe online is exactly the remedy.  I just know that Linus has his thumb and security blanket, Nugget has Blankie and Doggie and I have my laptop.


About Mama's Tantrum

Midlife tantrum: Mothering a toddler while healing from childhood trauma. And trying not to throw a full-blown tantrum. View all posts by Mama's Tantrum

2 responses to “I heart Linus.

  • Nanuq

    The effect of the abuse in my childhood was slightly different, but the expression of it was similar for a long time. I didn’t keep diaries because I didn’t want anyone to know what I was thinking, so they couldn’t use it against me. Or use it to justify running in the other direction once they had found out the “real” me.

    And lookit me now! Can hardly shut me up. And been that way since about 1981.

    It’s good you’ve got a Healer Lady for reality checks, and Nugget and sweetie for hugs and love and amusement (at least some of the time).

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