“When an Al-Anon wife describes her grievances at a meeting, and explains “what she did because of what he did,” it is very possible that we can see through her motivations more clearly than she can. We see the bitterness, the self-pity and self-deception that have built a wall between her and reality. The suffering is real, but we wonder how much of the hurt is self-inflicted.” (ODAT, 9 May)
As soon as I attribute anything internal to anything external, it’s game over. There’s no way out then, because the external cannot be changed, or, at least, whilst I can take certain actions that bring about a change in circumstances, there is much that is external that is not susceptible to my intervention.
Even claiming that one ‘learned particular lessons in childhood’, as though they were forcibly drilled into one’s mind, is a subtle and apparently credible way of diverting blame I’ve unwittingly engaged in.
The fact is, I had good and bad influences in terms of ideas, values, beliefs, and attitudes; I was exposed to a range of stimuli. I was certainly given the option to believe in God and rely on God as a child, but I rejected it. I met lots of people over the first couple of decades who were supremely rational, reasonable, moral and wise. I just didn’t pay the remotest bit of attention to them, the dullards, the bores, the milksops, the popinjays, I thought. There was even a pretty emotionally balanced person in the household. But there was someone who was very unwell. I used to blame the lessons I learned on the unwell one. The truth is, I might have learned other lessons or even simply rebelled, but I didn’t. That person was the person I mimicked in my ideas, values, beliefs, and attitudes.
The great thing about recognising my responsibility is that it really does give me the freedom to make a decision to change, because the power was always mine.