Me, My Selfie, and I - a Child Abuse Survivor's Take on Selfies

 

While studies may suggest a link between selfie-taking and mental illness, my experience has been anything but detrimental to my mental health.

I would hazard to guess  many people who  suffer from PTSD find selfie-taking a healing, rather than damaging activity.
 

Growing up, I was discouraged from looking in the mirror and, as a result,
was not able to identify with myself in ways that many people take for granted.

I do not have happy pictures of birthday parties or pictures of any other traditionally happy moments that I can refer back to. These kinds of pictures were simply not available to me. As a result, I grew up lacking a key foundational element in my development. 

Selfies take the place of what should have been a happy childhood and provide a grounding emotion that cannot be experienced in any other way. I am able to document my various emotions as a way of identifying growth, sadness, elation, introspection.

When you grow up without positive family role-models, child abuse survivors have to find a way to identify with themselves. It is unfortunate when these activities are labeled selfish or as precursors of narcissism. Having dedicated my life to the cause of child abuse awareness, I feel entitled to a selfie-or two if that makes me feel better. Believe me, you would not want to have the memories I (and others like me) have.

Selfies are an excellent way of accomplishing a kinder relationship with self. Some will ask why a "selfie" as opposed to someone else taking my picture. My simple answer, is that taking a selfie (with the right intention and motivation), is a private experience that is meant to serve as a personal reflection without the distraction of anyone else's energy in the room. I happen to share the result of my private time with the world because people find them/me funny and uplifting. The social benefits of sharing selfies replaces family for me. That might seem sad to some, but I am grateful for one of the few vices I have in this world.
 

REFERENCES:  

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2014/03/25/selfie-addiction-mental-illness_n_5022090.html

Is Mercy Owed to Us?

mer·cy .

1. Compassionate treatment, especially of those under one's power; clemency.

2. A disposition to be kind and forgiving: a heart full of mercy.

3. Something for which to be thankful; a blessing:

Is mercy owed to us?

Do people "deserve" to have a happy childhood, good parents, memorable birthdays and holidays? I often wonder what my life could have been like had I not been a victim of my adopted mother. I wonder if my perception on life would change and if the idea of "forgiveness" would be a little less difficult to swallow. I have definitely let my child abuse story define me in ways that I am not so sure I have ever had control over.
 

My mother felt that I should be grateful that I had "things" in my life. She felt that I should take comfort in the peace of mind that comes from her variety of structure. Everything had to be orderly. 

Even the most mundane chores had elaborate processes attached to them. Whether her process was logical or practical was entirely beside the point. Somehow my mother had earned the right to call the shots and define her happy memories her way. Who was I to judge what happiness meant for her? I was just a child and if I didn't like it, I knew where the door was.

For many years, I bought into her process and her methods in the hopes that one day she would be happy. I thought that the happiness she would attain by my following her process would not only be noticed, but praised. Such would never be the case. Over the years, it slowly dawned on me that happiness was really not her goal to begin with. To this day, I still don't know what her goal was. 


I no longer lose sleep over the fact that I couldn't please her. Instead, I have witnessed too many women, like my mother, who have elected to be consumers of life instead of producers. Who am I to judge which roles others choose for themselves? I can only measure ME.

My mother decided that she would seek her validation from the shows she watched on television. The rush she would get from outdoing her other socialite peers was nauseating to me and reminded me  of episodes of Real Housewives of Orange County. How many people REALLY want to come from families like that? Are those ladies happy, fulfilled, solid role models, good parents? Who am I to judge?

How do you define child abuse when mercy is a matter of perspective in our culture?

In my mother's mind she was being more than merciful as she tried to make me her variety of perfect. Because she didn't feel she fit in, she tried to find a way to fit in by adopting me. When she discovered that she had no real control over making me, "perfect," she resorted to other means of control in order to feel more worthwhile.

As I got older, I knew in my heart that she just wanted me to go away. That is single-handedly the worst part of my child abuse story. In an odd way, the physical abuse was her sick way of showing me that she cared. It was when she wanted to make me invisible, that is when I feel she was her least merciful.  

Had she been merciful, I wouldn't be who I am today though. I wouldn't be able to talk about the unfairness of the word, "deserve." I wouldn't be able to identify the slackers and the underachievers. I wouldn't be outraged enough to pave the path I am creating for myself. I wouldn't be able to fully realize the pride I feel when I have REALLY changed someone's life for the better.

 

While I hate words like "owed," I am grateful because it is the easiest way to filter out people who lack a crucial lens. People who lack this lens are not able to fully appreciate the life they have. 

Those who feel like they are owed something, fight for all of the wrong reasons. 
I am not a fan of people who feel owed because most lack gratitude.

Once we start talking about what is owed or how we deserve a lifestyle or anyTHING else for that matter, I have to ask, "Why do other tremendously amazing people deserve a life of poverty or illness?" I am grateful for the way I was neglected because it prepared me for the brutal world in front of me. 

It is my job to find happiness where I can find it and when I do, I haven't earned it.. it hasn't been OWED to me. It is a deliberate choice I make to feel an emotion and nothing else. 

There are plenty of people who have "done the right thing" only to have life bitch slap them in the face. In the wake of life's disappointments, so many of us look for reasons and point fingers at those who have more than they do. So much progress is lost in our attempt at reasoning our foibles without really looking at the task at hand. 

What makes you happy?... if you can't find happiness in your life no matter what awful circumstance is presently at hand, then you are in some serious trouble. While THINGS matter little to me, positive relationships with people do. The right people won't expect you to earn their affection and the right people won't feel owed yours. Mercy isn't owed to us... neither is happiness. We are merely the mood we choose for ourselves on any given day. On the days when my adopted mom would bleach me and scream at me about how repulsive I was, I found happiness at the hands of my toilet paper people dolls. Had my mother never abused me, I wouldn't have had that experience. Being owed or earning had nothing to do with the equation. My choice to be happy despite her was all that mattered. God Bless.

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