There’s a scene in the bio-pic miniseries Feud: Bette and Joan, that touches me in sore truth spot. If you’re unfamiliar, Bette Davis and Joan Crawford were two of the biggest Hollywood stars of the golden age. When people talk about the brightest of that era in Hollywood, they’re talking about them.
The blinding shame that accompanies these feelings - besides the feelings themselves - is something we should talk more about. It’s paralyzing, feeling stuck on that ladder three rungs behind.
I identify with this feeling, but not nearly as much as I did when I was younger. I have ideas about why I've changed, but can I ask, have you ever felt the opposite? Have you ever felt, upon doing something, or achieving something that it was enough? That you'd lived up to whatever standard the little voice in your head seemed to have in mind when it whispered that you weren't good enough?
Only for a period of time. Sure, there are pieces of work I've done that I think, "That's great. Good one. I'll feature that in a collection." I'm satisfied with the quality of some of the stuff I've done.
It's that it doesn't translate so easily for me into a lasting sense of peace and contentment in myself.
Right. It's like the good the things we do never really chip away at that feeling of not being good enough. Almost like they aren't even really measuring the same thing. My therapist had identified three of what she called "core evaluations" that she believed were formed in childhood. One of them was a person's sense of their own fundamental worthiness. The mistake I was making she argued (and I think she was right) was that I was pursuing all the things I did: being a good student, taking a hard major, working several jobs to come out of school with less debt, etc. because I had the need to change my core evaluation. Problem was that it took ever increasing amounts of work and achievement to even ease my anxiety, and even the smallest thing could "confirm" that core evaluation lurking in my head, and send me into a spiral of self-doubt. Does any of that square with your experience?
Josh, we are all a little crazy. When I was raising our kids I remember everyone talking about dysfunctional families and I really wanted someone to show me a functional one because I wanted to know what that fictional family looked like. No one ever could because we are all dysfunctional, just some more than others.
I don’t actually believe “we are all a little crazy.” That minimizes the experiences of people who grew up steeped in abuse and dysfunction.
Functional, healthy families exist. Those of us who did not come from such a family know this better than anyone, because we saw them. We longed to be a part of them. We couldn’t understand why it wasn’t possible.
Now, we understand. But “understanding” is a small comfort when dealing with the consequences, and knowing what it’s continuing to cost us, well into middle age.
I believe all families are dysfunctional at times. I was trying for a light tone. I had just come from some very serious, depressing discussions with friends about the state of the world. I stand by my “we are all a bit crazy and dysfunctional” however.Overall my upbringing was within the norm but there were definitely times of dysfunction (my mother was an alcoholic). Crazy does not always mean insane, it can be out of the ordinary as well-my kind of crazy at times.
Yes, no parent or family is perfect. However, some parents wreak absolute havoc on their children's developing brains and nervous systems. This havoc lives on into adulthood.
You see, there's a reason why gay men come back to these women, these cultural icons, over and over. Everyone knows "the gays love old Hollywood bitches/Madonna/Lady Gaga/Etc", but no one ever stops to ask, "why?"
I think I know now. They're our mothers, they're us. We sympathize with them and project ourselves into them, even when we fear them when they're incarnate in our real life. They're the safe fantasy version of examining our minds, and our deranged mothers.
It's a way of shielding ourselves from the full truth. It's looking at an eclipse through an amber glass, or only by a filtered optical lens projection on a wall.
And the way each actress speaks - Joan, flowery and emotional; Bette, clipped and almost gritting her teeth in order not to cry - shows how people of different backgrounds and temperaments approach, and try to manage, this chronic “not-enough” feeling.
We can achieve all kinds of great things that show the feeling isn’t based in reality; yet it remains.
As an aside, the modern nonsense, the typical caricature of the past, about a lack of “strong female characters” is as if the careers of Bette Davis, Joan Crawford and Mae West never existed.
Furiosa was the first female lead I felt a connection/kinship to since Ellen Ripley. Neither one was feminized to make them more palatable. I don’t mind feminine characters, but I just don’t *feel* them, if that makes sense.
That said, I *adore* watching snarky, Machiavellian bitches. I think I can relate to how you feel about them. My mother was bipolar and borderline, and when she was manic she’d dress like a drag queen and you really had to watch yourself, and only give praise and support. If she sensed insincerity or sarcasm, or Heaven forbid, your *mood* got in the way of her grandiosity, she’d insult and cajole until you faked enthusiasm. I think I saw Mommy Dearest for the first time when I was nine, and well... nothing was unfamiliar.
For older/classic movies, I love me some Lauren Bacall.
When you grow up without the nurture of unconditional love you always feel you are not good enough. Accomplishments carry you only so far, but love and acceptance you can only experience at a discount price.
People that learned what it means to be unconditionally loved, can regulate emotions better. And... they do not expect any shortcomings to be the end of anything. Failure is not a catastrophe and people accusing you of some wrongdoings can be shoulder-shrugged away.
People who are not feeling like their self is enough, they treat every shortcoming or criticism as a life or death situation: they often loudly react and fight back. Even in situations that for others may be minor. They do not have the luxury of being able to be less or make mistakes.
Well Josh, I think you are extremely handsome, extraordinary talented, smart, witty, funny, sweet, kind, have a great sense of humor, and I wish you were my friend! (I cannot even sign into the darn Discord!) You are still so young. I used to feel like this; nothing I did was good enough. Even when I stopped drinking 30 years ago, it took me years and years to repair my brain from that toxicity. I've never felt better than I do now. I don't want to be younger. I feel just right. I feel great about myself. I rarely doubt myself; I know I'm right, and it's a wonderful feeling. I've lost almost all my friends due to the gender porn industry, but I don't care. As Stuart Smalley said, I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and doggone it, people [don't] like me, and I don't give a shit. I'm much better than them, and I like my own company (what other choice do I have!?) I recently watched this Exulansic video, it's new, about an insane young woman, who is so entitled, and self... Well, you've just GOT to watch it. It explains why employers put resumes w/ "they/them" pronouns straight into the shredder. https://exulansic.substack.com/p/mastectochism-tiny-dog-ears A commenter Just Another Voice on the previous video took the words out of my mouth: "I want to be clear about this: I do not care about these people. I have zero compassion for them. I am not even slightly moved or concerned about their self-removal statistics. When I hear threats of suicide, my only thought is that I know those are idle threats and I wish someone would publicize that fact. And I will say this too, even though some will hate me for it; if their public suicidal ideation were true, I would be just fine with that, provided they just did it instead of yelling about it all day every day and forcing us to listen." https://exulansic.substack.com/p/mastectochism-people-meat
It’s me. Nothing’s ever enough. And no, I don’t have a personality disorder - verified by several treating physicians. I did, as I have outlined elsewhere, have a tough childhood, for a variety of reasons, including disability, and sexual abuse by an extended family member. But then, at least I’m alive. Ho hum.
Relatable, and it's something I've had to work on massively since having a child. I have to tell myself quite forcefully that I am doing enough, I am good enough, and make myself focus on moments of joy and contentment.
Relatedly, I do think having non-tangible (for want of a better phrase) interests or goals can make it worse. Hands-on projects where I see and feel the end product IRL seem to quiet the negative brain chatter whereas anything on a screen leaves me chasing dopamine and questioning myself more.
Yes, the “never enough” syndrome is alive and well in those of us who have sought external validation, first from our parents and then from society in general. But, one thing I have finally learned after all these 78 years is that I am “enough.”
The blinding shame that accompanies these feelings - besides the feelings themselves - is something we should talk more about. It’s paralyzing, feeling stuck on that ladder three rungs behind.
I identify with this feeling, but not nearly as much as I did when I was younger. I have ideas about why I've changed, but can I ask, have you ever felt the opposite? Have you ever felt, upon doing something, or achieving something that it was enough? That you'd lived up to whatever standard the little voice in your head seemed to have in mind when it whispered that you weren't good enough?
Only for a period of time. Sure, there are pieces of work I've done that I think, "That's great. Good one. I'll feature that in a collection." I'm satisfied with the quality of some of the stuff I've done.
It's that it doesn't translate so easily for me into a lasting sense of peace and contentment in myself.
Right. It's like the good the things we do never really chip away at that feeling of not being good enough. Almost like they aren't even really measuring the same thing. My therapist had identified three of what she called "core evaluations" that she believed were formed in childhood. One of them was a person's sense of their own fundamental worthiness. The mistake I was making she argued (and I think she was right) was that I was pursuing all the things I did: being a good student, taking a hard major, working several jobs to come out of school with less debt, etc. because I had the need to change my core evaluation. Problem was that it took ever increasing amounts of work and achievement to even ease my anxiety, and even the smallest thing could "confirm" that core evaluation lurking in my head, and send me into a spiral of self-doubt. Does any of that square with your experience?
Josh, we are all a little crazy. When I was raising our kids I remember everyone talking about dysfunctional families and I really wanted someone to show me a functional one because I wanted to know what that fictional family looked like. No one ever could because we are all dysfunctional, just some more than others.
There's definitely a line between normal adjacent and.. .well, what I went through. And what millions have gone through.
We all have our issues, yes. But there really is a difference in kind and severity when you've lived in a world far beyond the line.
Oh, no doubt.
I don’t actually believe “we are all a little crazy.” That minimizes the experiences of people who grew up steeped in abuse and dysfunction.
Functional, healthy families exist. Those of us who did not come from such a family know this better than anyone, because we saw them. We longed to be a part of them. We couldn’t understand why it wasn’t possible.
Now, we understand. But “understanding” is a small comfort when dealing with the consequences, and knowing what it’s continuing to cost us, well into middle age.
I believe all families are dysfunctional at times. I was trying for a light tone. I had just come from some very serious, depressing discussions with friends about the state of the world. I stand by my “we are all a bit crazy and dysfunctional” however.Overall my upbringing was within the norm but there were definitely times of dysfunction (my mother was an alcoholic). Crazy does not always mean insane, it can be out of the ordinary as well-my kind of crazy at times.
"Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way" --Leo Tolstoy
Yes, no parent or family is perfect. However, some parents wreak absolute havoc on their children's developing brains and nervous systems. This havoc lives on into adulthood.
I know these feelings to the core of my being. The only constant in my life. That awful alien-like emptiness.
You see, there's a reason why gay men come back to these women, these cultural icons, over and over. Everyone knows "the gays love old Hollywood bitches/Madonna/Lady Gaga/Etc", but no one ever stops to ask, "why?"
I think I know now. They're our mothers, they're us. We sympathize with them and project ourselves into them, even when we fear them when they're incarnate in our real life. They're the safe fantasy version of examining our minds, and our deranged mothers.
It's a way of shielding ourselves from the full truth. It's looking at an eclipse through an amber glass, or only by a filtered optical lens projection on a wall.
And the way each actress speaks - Joan, flowery and emotional; Bette, clipped and almost gritting her teeth in order not to cry - shows how people of different backgrounds and temperaments approach, and try to manage, this chronic “not-enough” feeling.
We can achieve all kinds of great things that show the feeling isn’t based in reality; yet it remains.
As an aside, the modern nonsense, the typical caricature of the past, about a lack of “strong female characters” is as if the careers of Bette Davis, Joan Crawford and Mae West never existed.
You can say that again, and quadruple. There have been countless tough broads, swell dames, crackshot Annies, and strong women throughout the decades.
Furiosa was the first female lead I felt a connection/kinship to since Ellen Ripley. Neither one was feminized to make them more palatable. I don’t mind feminine characters, but I just don’t *feel* them, if that makes sense.
That said, I *adore* watching snarky, Machiavellian bitches. I think I can relate to how you feel about them. My mother was bipolar and borderline, and when she was manic she’d dress like a drag queen and you really had to watch yourself, and only give praise and support. If she sensed insincerity or sarcasm, or Heaven forbid, your *mood* got in the way of her grandiosity, she’d insult and cajole until you faked enthusiasm. I think I saw Mommy Dearest for the first time when I was nine, and well... nothing was unfamiliar.
For older/classic movies, I love me some Lauren Bacall.
When you grow up without the nurture of unconditional love you always feel you are not good enough. Accomplishments carry you only so far, but love and acceptance you can only experience at a discount price.
People that learned what it means to be unconditionally loved, can regulate emotions better. And... they do not expect any shortcomings to be the end of anything. Failure is not a catastrophe and people accusing you of some wrongdoings can be shoulder-shrugged away.
People who are not feeling like their self is enough, they treat every shortcoming or criticism as a life or death situation: they often loudly react and fight back. Even in situations that for others may be minor. They do not have the luxury of being able to be less or make mistakes.
Well Josh, I think you are extremely handsome, extraordinary talented, smart, witty, funny, sweet, kind, have a great sense of humor, and I wish you were my friend! (I cannot even sign into the darn Discord!) You are still so young. I used to feel like this; nothing I did was good enough. Even when I stopped drinking 30 years ago, it took me years and years to repair my brain from that toxicity. I've never felt better than I do now. I don't want to be younger. I feel just right. I feel great about myself. I rarely doubt myself; I know I'm right, and it's a wonderful feeling. I've lost almost all my friends due to the gender porn industry, but I don't care. As Stuart Smalley said, I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and doggone it, people [don't] like me, and I don't give a shit. I'm much better than them, and I like my own company (what other choice do I have!?) I recently watched this Exulansic video, it's new, about an insane young woman, who is so entitled, and self... Well, you've just GOT to watch it. It explains why employers put resumes w/ "they/them" pronouns straight into the shredder. https://exulansic.substack.com/p/mastectochism-tiny-dog-ears A commenter Just Another Voice on the previous video took the words out of my mouth: "I want to be clear about this: I do not care about these people. I have zero compassion for them. I am not even slightly moved or concerned about their self-removal statistics. When I hear threats of suicide, my only thought is that I know those are idle threats and I wish someone would publicize that fact. And I will say this too, even though some will hate me for it; if their public suicidal ideation were true, I would be just fine with that, provided they just did it instead of yelling about it all day every day and forcing us to listen." https://exulansic.substack.com/p/mastectochism-people-meat
It’s me. Nothing’s ever enough. And no, I don’t have a personality disorder - verified by several treating physicians. I did, as I have outlined elsewhere, have a tough childhood, for a variety of reasons, including disability, and sexual abuse by an extended family member. But then, at least I’m alive. Ho hum.
Relatable, and it's something I've had to work on massively since having a child. I have to tell myself quite forcefully that I am doing enough, I am good enough, and make myself focus on moments of joy and contentment.
Relatedly, I do think having non-tangible (for want of a better phrase) interests or goals can make it worse. Hands-on projects where I see and feel the end product IRL seem to quiet the negative brain chatter whereas anything on a screen leaves me chasing dopamine and questioning myself more.
Like street cats unable to self-regulate their food intake. They’re so insecure that it’s never enough.
I so love your writing, Josh. I can’t think of another writer who has helped me more with my personal growth. I’m forever grateful.
Yes, the “never enough” syndrome is alive and well in those of us who have sought external validation, first from our parents and then from society in general. But, one thing I have finally learned after all these 78 years is that I am “enough.”
I hope I get where you are, Kathy. :)