Torture of Being Silenced
In a healthy, close relationship, each person freely talks about their feelings, ideas, interests, desires, problems, healing, learning, regrets, struggles, issues, passions, frustrations, weaknesses, strengths, experiences, relationships, goals, plans, dreams, imagination, history, etc. It’s an ongoing dialog, with both people bringing thoughts to the table. It’s sharing.
I grew up in an environment where expressing oneself with anything other than a song-and-dance expression of blind loyalty was punished. What I thought, felt and observed was always wrong. This led me to doubt myself, my worthiness to live, well into adulthood.
Because of all the healing work I did for decades, I can barely remember what it was like to doubt myself every moment of the day. At the end of the day in bed, I would go over my day and see if there was anything I did wrong and should feel guilty about.
To me, back then, ‘doing wrong’ could be something so small as not using a friendly enough voice with a stranger or co-worker.
As an adult, I battled anxiety when going to family-of-origin events. No matter how friendly and light-hearted I was, I was always punished afterwards with silent treatments, back-stabbing, and not being invited to future events.
There are so many things I could discuss with family members who grew up in the same household, with the same people. We could share our experiences, struggles, how adult life has been affected, our hindsight vantage points, and how we found our way through. We could discuss what we each can’t seem to resolve due to blind spots. We could be empathetic and trouble-shoot together. I have long since given up on being able to do this with family.
In my adult relationships, I managed to replicate the portion of my childhood where the other person was too fragile (even in the form of being intimidating and tough), in too much in denial—basically avoiding pain at all cost—to be able to share authentic open communication with me.
The missed opportunities for this type of closeness is deeply sad. It’s deeply sad to be around people who go through the motions of life, but aren’t really there.
Sure, I have been in relationships where the other person would allow me to speak as much as I wanted to, as if they are doing me a favor in letting me hear my own voice. But this is really no different than being silenced. And it never fails, if I’m doing all the talking, I’m also doing all the exposing of myself. If I’m doing all the exposing, the other person has lots of material to use to manipulate. It’s so much easier to sit in the audience and watch someone on stage, than it is to be an active, vulnerable, exposed participant.
I can speak to myself, by myself. What I can’t do by myself is to be included in someone else’s experiences, thoughts, ideas, and to feel the honor of someone else including me into their life. What I can’t do by myself is enjoy the mixing of my mind with another mind in order to create something so unique and new. Without being able to do this in a relationship, it is yet again experiencing torture by being silenced.
A sure way to try to destroy someone who wants to share is to refuse to talk to them. Torture them with silence. Refuse to talk about anything that matters. Refuse to get to the bottom of anything. It’s a very effective way to project one’s pain onto another. Just be aware of this method of pain projection, and don’t take it as your own.
Being someone who likes a communicative, sharing relationship is an asset; so, don’t shut down this side of yourself. Know where to apply it.
I learned the answer isn’t to pressure the other person. The answer is to be there for myself. To express myself in healthy ways, through other outlets.
When the feeling of being tortured comes up, I know immediately to be there for myself. I know to pray for help. I know to do that which makes me feel peace. I know to compassionately and lovingly take care of myself. Doing these things makes me feel powerful over my own life and not the victim of someone else’s dysfunction and unwillingness to grow and learn.
It’s not an easy journey. But it’s a rich and fulfilling one. Do you need help? Contact me.