Society would have us believe that people are solely responsible for their own actions, and that how they were raised is not so much a factor. For a time, I believed this, but in the last few years, while thinking over my life, I come to see it as not true. The way children are raised, the values they are taught, the things they hear and experience all play a major part in shaping them as adults.
I was taken away from my birth parents around age two..While I can not remember any of that part of my life, I have been told that they would leave myself and my younger sister alone, sometimes a few hours, sometimes a few days while they were out partying and socializing. They were drug addicts and alcoholics. So, we were removed and placed in foster care. From there until age 6, I went through around 6 different foster homes. A few wanted to adopt us, but after a short while realized they were unprepared for two children, so back to the foster home we would go. Another had an older son, and it wasn't until my open house when I graduated the truth on that situation was revealed. The family returned us to the home because I was seen as a danger. I had set fire to the camper they had in the yard. This wasn't true though. Apparently the older brother was the first to discover that I was a sleep walker, and used it to his advantage, being jealous of the new arrivals. He set the fire, placed the rest of the matches in my hand, then played the "first on the scene" role. He finally admitted this when I was 17..years to late to prevent the family sending me back to foster care. When I was 6, I was finally adopted into my current family.
As an adult, I now begin to realize what impact this had on me and my personality. I often compare the feeling to being a product in a store. Someone comes in, buys you, when they get home and try you out they realize you don't work the way they wanted, or wasn't what they expected, so they pack you back up and return you to the store..It left me with an overwhelming need to please. When I was in the hospital recovering after my suicide attempt, I kept going over where had I gone so wrong that I was willing to die to escape. The answer finally came to me, it was that I tried so hard to be what everyone wanted that I had no idea who or what I was as a person. My parents wanted me to be perfect, straight A's, be outgoing and social. I tried, for a while I succeeded, but each time I didn't get that A, they would come down on me for not trying hard enough. I was a very shy person, quiet, spent alot of time reading, and when I didn't fit in with the "in" cliques at school, my parents would always always put it back on me, I wasn't trying, I was at fault. The kids in school wanted me to be whatever the in thing was at the time. My friends wanted me to be a sneak, lie to my parents, sneak around, etc. And in some ways I was trying to be all of these at once. The thing was, it was just never enough for any of them. My parents rarely showed affection, or attention unless it was to put me down. Most of the friends I had were only friends with me when it was convenient for them, but ignored me for better friends. I could go on, but suffice to say it all built up to the point where I was convinced everyone would be better off if the "failure and dissapointment" were gone from their lives. So I swallowed an entire large bottle of aspirin and when my sister took me in to the hospital, they said I had about one hour before I would have drowned and been dead.
It was then I realized that I needed to be who I was, not what I should be. Not that I am putting all the blame on others, or making excuses, just that I realized that those early incidents did play a big role in my development. Those early feelings of inadequacy and failure simply got worse over the years, and that to fix them, I needed to find out who I wanted to be. I went back home to live for a bit after that, until my father decided I should have sex with him, then moved out and got a place. From that day on, I have become my own person. I still have my days of feeling worthless, like a failure, but for the most part have learned to cope and bury it.
Now that I have my own children, I spend each day remembering what I went through and how it affected me, and do my best to see they know I love them, and show them I do, so they don't feel anything of how I did as a child. While we may be responsible for our own actions as adults, those early years have alot to do with shaping us and how we perform as adults.
